A beautiful and terrifying place. I’m not particularly afraid of heights – although, as I get older, my self-confidence with balance is faltering and my relationship with mobility workouts is intensifying – but this place was not without risk. My brother drove, and this is no knock to his driving, but not having control of the vehicle as we serpentined down the switchback road or along the cliff’s edge, closer than I would have cared to drive, it is hard not to feel a bit uneasy.

This, mind you, is from someone who has experienced riding in a large bus on a narrow, two lane path up the Mama Mia road in Capri, hiked to a cliff-side restaurant in the Swiss Alps, and stood before the Grand Canyon as a child and an adult, amongst other incredible adventures high above. The problem wasn’t the canyon or the road or the driver. It was the complete lack of guard rails and the sometimes precarious look-out points. One thing that has always set America above other countries has been our dedication to providing a great experience to all abilities, but most look-out points were certainly not wheelchair accessible and several were barely accessible for anyone outside of peak physical condition.

This post was originally going to be about the beauty of the Gunnison area, alone, but it was just yesterday that I learned about stolen funds meant to install guard rails all around the Black Canyon of the Gunnison. Unsurprisingly, just over $400,000 was re-appropriated within the Parks Services from the Black Canyon to Washington D.C. to complete the myriad of vanity projects requested by Trump. Three unexpected parts about our trip to the Black Canyon left a mark on me. First was the lack of guard rails, second was the evidence of a wildfire in the area, and third was the death from a fatal fall that occurred just five days before our visit. Each of these issues are bound to worsen under this current administration. Funding cuts to provide safety, fire protection, and manpower/staffing to enforce park rules will all result in harm to visitors, wildlife, and the ecosystems before any perils or devastation ever reaches D.C. or the wealthy people in this country. These three marks have been lingering in my thoughts since we returned.

But they are not the only thoughts upon which I have dwelled. The beauty of the Canyon was beyond words and a small, but powerful, reminder of just how incredible this country is. We have so much to explore and to care for. So much to protect for the generations to come. I don’t want these places to exist merely in pictures for future beings; I hope they exist such that they can be experienced, smelled, hiked, and wondered at. For those who can not or may never have the chance to visit, here are a few photos from my journey.

You can see the Earth is reseeding and reinventing the scorched ground, but it will take time before new trees reappear. This is about a year after the fires now.

There is something about seeing the terrain, the expanse of the canyon, as if it is waiting to swallow us all up, and knowing there was a loss here.

The only thing that seems unfazed by the canyon was the river that cut through it.