“Tomorrow is another day.”—Scarlett O’Hara
When we were kids at St. Patrick’s School, eleven o’clock meant Religion Period, time to get out our shiny catechisms and read about God, the angels and Heaven, where everybody lived. Well, for a while. Then one day, the arcangel Lucifer had a run-in with The Big Guy and was cast out of Heaven and consigned to a new residence in a much murkier neighborhood. Down, he glided, lower and lower, the temperatures rising with every sinking mile until he finally reached the bottom of the canyon. “What the Hell?” complained Lucifer. “It’s 107 degrees down here!” If I was never able to relate to Lucifer in Religion Period, I could now, roasting at the bottom of the Grand Canyon. Sympathy For The Devil? I had it. Fortunately for me, unlike Lucifer I had an exit visa named Maddie. And, like Scarlett promised, tomorrow was another day.
Tuesday, June 28th, started out a bright, sunny morning, a few clouds scattered through the firmament. Learning from the previous day’s inadequate meal, we enjoyed a generous breakfast and arrived at the mule corral promptly at 6:15. The wranglers had decided to alter the processional order and now Siobhan was first after Noah and I followed her. There would be no more chasing Twinky and I was grateful for that. Today’s ride up the South Kaibab Trail was shorter in miles—seven—but just as long in duration, 5 1/2 hours, due to the steepness of the trail and the fact that the mules were now climbing and required more brief rest periods (24). There was no water source on the South Kaibab so there was no refill point—every drop had to be hauled in the saddlebags, making them heavier than on the way down.
While temperatures rose on the ride down the canyon, they dropped on the way up, especially when the clouds gathered to eventually shut out the sun. With the stress level reduced, there was more time and inclination to enjoy the scenery, and the extra rest periods allowed additional minutes for picture-taking. The South Kaibab Trail is a tougher climb up than the Bright Angel but is also more scenic, with broader and more colorful vistas. From the South Rim, the canyon might seem similar throughout to the average viewer but a hike into the depths will reveal many differences. A first-time Grand Canyon hiker might prefer the Bright Angel, an experienced photographer will choose the South Kaibab every time.
Four hours into the climb, we enjoyed a light breeze and a hint of rain appeared on the horizon. Forty-five minutes later, the hint was realized as the skies began to spit a few drops. A few of us, including me, untied our yellow rain slickers with MULE RIDER inscribed on the back and put them on. The rain picked up but never became more than a modest shower, not uncomfortable and relegating temperatures to the seventies. The ride was not a walk in the park but much easier than the laborious slog down. The wranglers called the climb up the canyon our reward for the previous day’s discomforts. We rose to the rim on schedule, dispensed thanks and rewards to the wranglers and took the park shuttle back to the Bright Angel Lodge for a quick lunch. The rains came again bringing winds and the fickle temperatures quickly scurried into the sixties. “Tomorrow” was, indeed, another day.
If, after serious reflection, I had a few brief sentences of advice to impart to future mule riders, they would be these:
(1) Treat the trip the same way you would a marathon or any other difficult physical test. With prior training and carbohydrate loading.
(2) Go in the Spring or Fall, never in summer.
(3) Find some rubber underwear.
And most important of all: Don’t be on the mule behind Twinky.
Ooh Aah Point on the South Kaibab Trail. One of the few places on Earth where it’s still acceptable to use the word “Awesome.”
The Sedona Experience
The discriminating vacation planner might weigh the implications of eleven hours on a mule in dubious weather conditions and schedule an ensuing rest stop, a quiet reprieve in a land of beauty and wonder and comfort, an eden where the spirits might climb and weary bodies undergo celeritous reparation. We are nothing if not discriminating vacation planners so we hit the road for Sedona, a mere two hours in the distance. Sedona is, after all, home to luxurious spas which shower you off in cavernous marble baths, wrap you in feathery white robes and summon in fleets of women gifted in the ways of shampooing, massage, reflexology.
Mysterious palm-readers will take your hand, ingest information and quickly put you on the right path. Aura photographers will produce a picture which illuminates areas in need of improvement. Crystal-bearers will wave their glassy magic wands over you and evict the evil spirits. And then, for the ultimate refresher, you will take yourself to one of Sedona’s famed Energy Vortexes to power up. And yes, that’s “vortexes,” not “vortices,” which is the plural in other parts of the world. When they live in your town, you can call them anything you want but right now they’ve taken up residence in Sedona, and when in Rome….
Now, some people might have a tendency to dismiss these vortexes out of hand. “Oh, pish-tosh!” they might sniff, shaking their hankies at the absurdity of it all. “Power vortexes? PUH-leeze!” But that’s because these doubting Thomases have not met Eddie and Marge of “upper” New Jersey. We have. We met them on the Airport Mesa Trail, one of the Big Four Vortex Areas of Sedona. Eddie was scampering around like an orangutan.
“I have COPD, emphysema, you name it,” reports Eddie. “When I’m back in Jersey, I can’t do nothin’. But when I get to Sedona, I’m all over the place. I can breathe and I never get tired. Don’t tell me the vortexes don’t work! Marge and I are moving here next year.” Marge replies with a bright smile and a spiffy thumbs-up. Okay, we know all that stuff about mind over matter—but mind over emphysema? Tell me how that one works.
It’s All In the Magnetite
According to their advocates, the vortexes are either electrical (positive), magnetic (negative) or electro-magnetic (a balance of the two). There are seven vortexes scattered throughout the red rock hills of Sedona, but four are paramount. The largest is at Boynton Canyon, electric with a powerful energy that promotes physical and emotional healing. Cathedral Rock is an astral, magnetic vortex promoting past life recall as an extra-special bonus (Ma and Pa Kettle live on the property as their original selves, Caesar and Cleopatra). The earlier mentioned Airport Vortex is electrical and particularly responsive to people from New Jersey.
Bell Rock, however, is the most interesting vortex. It is electrical and powerful, not only resembling a bell, but also—according to experts in the field—the Gemini Space Capsule, of all the dang things. Energy emanates from the center of the rock straight up to the heavens. “It is a goddam BEACON!” says Luke Fowler, a True Believer from West Sedona, and who’s to argue?
For over ten years, Phoenix-based electrical engineer Benjamin Lonetree has examined many of the claims promoting the powers of the vortexes using various scientific instruments and methods. His conclusion is that there are actually measurable outflows and inflows of magnetic energy in the Sedona area that do affect the environment of the region, including human consciousness. Whoa!
Lonetree opines that the area’s geology is a key factor. The high content of iron oxide which causes the red rock and soil around Sedona combined with substantial quartz deposits seem to play important roles in this phenomena. Lonetree has attempted to correlate connections between magnetic energy activities in the Sedona area and human consciousness.
By measuring human brainwaves including his own in the vortex areas using a portable EEG device and matching that data with real-time measurements of environmental magnetic energies using a magnetometer, Lonetree has deducted what appears to be clear relationships between the vortex energy and human brainwaves.
Since the human body and the bodies of many other mammals contains magnetically sensitive magnetite, there is a logical mainstream explanation for some of the possible effects on people from Sedona’s magnetic energies. Magnetite in the beaks of migratory birds is critical in avian navigation. It is only in the past 20 years that magnetite has been discovered to be present in the human brain. Researchers have documented the presence of magnetite nanocrystals in the brain using magnetometric methods and transmission electron microscopy. While their exact role on human cerebral physiology has yet to be determined, scientists suspect magnetite plays a significant role in the human nervous system.
If one were to travel about Sedona seeking anecdotal evidence to confirm or deny the power of the vortexes, he would get a murky montage of evidence. The average visitor with ten minutes to spend in search of his own expectations of nirvana may well claim the vortexes were a disappointment. The people who live around Sedona mostly feel different. One after another, they describe a subtle buoyancy which elevates their existence, smooths life’s rough edges, lessens the stress. “I wouldn’t live anywhere else,” is a common reply. These are mostly intelligent people not given to foolishness. And even the cynics have a vortex tale or two to tell.
The Ultimate Cynic, blushing bride Siobhan Ellison, even traipsed down the Airport Mesa Trail, an octet of newly-bought candles in hand, seeking the blessing of that particular vortex on the gifts for her Thursday night yoga group. Each candle held its own unique aspect, one offering “courage,” another “determination to prevail,” etc. Finding a likely spot in a little garden, she sat down with her properties in hand and let the power of the vortex wash over her little collection, enhancing the innate power of each candle, as vortexes are wont to do.
After a few minutes, she smiled, arose and exclaimed, “The deed is done. There is no turning back.” I was surprised at her endorsement of the vortex. “You are the ultimate scientist,” I thought to mention. “You don’t believe in any of this stuff.”
“Well, not really” she replied. “But the yoga group does.”
It’s Another Sedona Sunrise
You won’t have any trouble staying busy in Sedona, vortexes or not. The tour entrepreneurs are ready at the crack of dawn, dispatching fleets of little pink jeeps into the hinterlands, most of them chock-full of tourists. There are galleries galore, many of them in the fastidious Tlaquepaque Village, there are shopping opportunities in the expansive uptown area, there are spas of all descriptions. But maybe you came for the psychics. In Sedona, you can’t walk down the sidewalk without bumping into a psychic. I kept trying to see Madam Alexandra, but she was never in. Madam Alexandra did leave a phone number on her door and promised to respond immediately but I figured a really good psychic should know I was coming. If you’re not satisfied with a mere run-of-the-mill psychic, you can get a guy who will read your Akashic Records. Who even knew I had any? There are psychics who will lure you in with a free three-minute-chat. I can see it now: “Oh-oh, we have BIG problems here! This could take an hour or more. Better sit down, we’ll bring you some chai tea.”
The Center For New Age is in Sedona, as is the Mystical Bazaar, as well as a flock of other places. On the move? You can get a telephone reading while you drive. Looking for a soulmate? It’s a snap for psychic Nirup. Oh, and don’t forget those Intuitive Past Life Readings….you might find out you were once Gene Autry. They even have big discounts on off days so make sure your bring in those coupons.
If you travel to Sedona, it’s best (and more fun) to go there with an open mind. Negativity reduces your opportunities for new adventures in self-discovery. You could approach it like minimal gamblers approach Las Vegas—reserve a couple hundred dollars for token gambling and then go about your business. Two hundred dollars for psychic consultations might be a lot more fun. And who knows, maybe you’ll be one of the lucky ones boosted up by the vortexes. Maybe the doggone things will cure your lumbago, eradicate your hives, dispatch your hypertrichosis. Maybe you’ll meet Marge and Eddie on the Airport Mesa Trail and hoist a glass or two to the wonder of it all….to the magical red rock canyons, to the exotic mysteries of life, to our capacity for wonder….oh yes, and don’t forget….to the possibilities of magnetite.
That’s all, folks….
