Black Canyon of the Gunnison National Park

I awoke last Friday in Salida, Colorado to some unexpected and earth-shattering news: my Grandma Ruth had passed away. She was almost 93, but had been in relatively good health up until last week. Thankfully, I had just been back to Wisconsin the week before and spent a lot of time with her. Exactly a year ago, my sister and I had gone on a road trip with her to Tennessee.

Although I knew immediately I would be returning to Wisconsin for the funeral, I decided to spend the day in Black Canyon of the Gunnison National Park since I was so close and hurrying back would serve little purpose. Taking the day to reflect on the many happy memories with my grandma at one of the most spectacular places in the world proved to be the right call. After hiking until 3:00 p.m. I pointed my wheels east and drove 22 hours straight through Colorado, Nebraska, and Iowa back to Wisconsin.

Black Canyon of the Gunnison holds a special place in my heart because it was somewhere I almost didn't visit but which began my fixation with America's national parks. When I was there in January 2012, only the first two lookouts were open, but the canyon's epic depth and eerie shadows made a lasting impression. Ever since I first cast eyes on the monumental opening in the earth, I had a desire to explore its ancient floor far below.

The easiest, but by no means easy, path to the edge of the Gunnison River is the Gunnison Route (intentionally not called a "trail"), which descends 1,800 feet in a mile. A backcountry permit is required, I think mostly so rangers can explain what would-be hikers are getting themselves into. Much of the route is covered in loose rock or "scree," making the descent tricky and the ascent arduous. The thin mountain air also slows down hikers who aren't acclimated to it.

I safely made it from the canyon rim to the river and back in just over two hours. By the time I reached the visitor's center I was covered in dirt and dust and gasping for breath. The hike was worth it though. The immensity of the dark sheer walls can be more easily grasped when seen from below. Another sight only possible on the canyon floor: slowly disintegrating rocks at river's edge, frozen sculptures of the flowing water's unceasing erosive power.

Back up on the south rim, I drove along the six-mile park road to most of the canyon's southern lookouts. Pulpit Rock offers a panoramic vista of the Gunnison Route and the north rim's vertical walls. Chasm View is where the canyon is at its narrowest--less than a quarter of a mile across, deeper than it is wide. Painted Wall, infused with pearly white gypsum streaks, is the tallest cliff in Colorado at 2,250 feet. One large white streak near the top of Painted Wall resembles a snarling dragon.