A month later we went back to the canyon, parked at the edge, and started walking.
My wife, Certified Wild Thing.
I hope her mom doesn't see this picture, it'll give her a nervous attack.
We had water, food, camera -- we were all set to go.
And then I saw this sign, threatening dire consequences for anyone trying to do exactly what we were going to do!
Nadia had already started down the trail when I yelled at her about the sign, so we kept on going...
... until we came to another one just like it. They must mean business, I thought.
Nadia disagreed. "That sign doesn't mean us," she said. "That's for normal people."
Normal people? She had a point.
Behind us Bright Angel Trail winds down into the canyon.
We headed on down the trail and within a few miles came to "Indian Gardens."
We quit laughing (just for a sec) when we saw this little fella, about 20 yards past the place we were in the last photo.
Maybe they should name this area "Rattlesnake Gardens."
He was a beauty. We took a few close-ups and then let him be. The Grand Canyon is a popular place to be bitten by rattlesnakes, and the vast majority of victims are males who get too close.
"Idiots like you," said Nadia, reading over my shoulder.
"Right." I didn't want to become a statistic, especially that far from a road, an ambulance, a hospital, and vials of antivenin and painkillers, so we moved on.
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