i pulled into the gas station (somewhere in utah) and saw a weathered, elderly man sitting on the curb next to the door of the station.  i figured he was there to ask for money or food.  while i approached the door, and him, he pulled out a banana from what looked like an old backpackers pack.  you know what, this guy isn't here to ask for money; he's here taking a break from wherever he's come.  as i meandered through the station's inside looking for who knows what, i decided i needed to talk to that man to find out where's been and where's going -- he might have some wisdom for me: traveler to traveler.  i walked out to...but i was too late.  he had already left. dang. 
well, i jumped into the car and headed west again.  yet there he was at the entrance ramp to the interstate with his thumb up.  you better believe i pulled over (my mother gasped when i relayed to her what i did).  "where you headed, sir," i asked.  "hanksville, but you can just take me to state road 24."  "well, hop in."  boy was he elated.  he said no one really wanted to pick him -- i was a little apprehensive myself.  he was a stranger, and he appeared a little...you know. 
"headed toward san rafael reef" he told me.  "what's that?"  "oh, you'll see."  we came upon it and i saw.  i saw a wall.  a wall not meant to be touched, not even looked upon without an immediate appreciation for God's power.  'OH', i thought, 'OH WOW.'  i told him that i was a photographer driving this car, my brother's car which was an old struggling of a thing, out to san diego so my brother had some transportation there.  he loved the car, and thought it was such a nice car and wondered why my brother would let me even drive it.  i didn't think of his comment as an 'ouch', as if i didn't have the capabilities to drive it.  but rather i thought of it as a moment to agree even though it truly was a beat-up car.  many a people don't even have cars.  for instance, Jack Flash, my new friend riding next to me, took a bus from georgia to utah.  he didn't mind the long trip on a greyhound.  so he was quick to note that i had a car and this to him was a luxury.  Jack was right.
i pulled out my camera, held it with one hand and turned to Jack.  "don't worry i'm a professional," and quickly snapped a few fotos of the mammoth reef.  "there's a place up near the reef to take some pictures," he said.  "great, i'll do that...so, what's your name?"  "Jack Something-or-rather, but my trail name is Jack Flash."  obviously, i could only remember his trail name.  he told me, "Jonathan, i live in georgia and i don't want to sit inside all day not doing a thing besides collecting social security.  so i come here." 
Jack described the reef and it's glory.  "there's a stream," he started, "that you need to stay near otherwise you'll die of the thirst.  you have to be careful, for the path goes up and down, up and down which means i only do a mile a day."  come to think of it he didn't describe it's glory much past that, how could he?  have you tried to describe the grand canyon?  'ah, it's a big hole.'  well, of course the grand canyon is more than a big hole. and the san rafael reef is more than a few paths and a stream.  it's a rock stampede that blazes through the desert.  it can and should evoke all emotion.
we arrived at his exit.  "are you sure you want me to just let you off here?" i asked him one last time.  his finally destination i found out was still ten more miles down the road toward hanksville.  "no, this is plenty enough.  thank you."  "tough, i'm taking you to wherever you need to go."  "well, i won't deny you.  thank you again, i really do appreciate your kindness to an old man."  Jack's not old.  he's living the dream.  with a backpack he's decided to just take his time and absorb, be enveloped by creation.  "when you see the three hilletts, that's a-where you can drop me off."  sure enough, there were the three 'hilletts'.  i slowed down, pulled over and let him out.  the reef was still a good three miles away.  yet, no road or path led directly to it.  only a fence next to the road was the closest man-made thing in sight; however, the fence was meant to keep people out. 
"Jack, can i take your picture?"  "well, sure. go right ahead."  "it's just that you're all i hope to be one day."  "thank you. and thank you once more for all that you've done for a stranger."  i made a few pictures, he gathered his things. i then watched him hop the fence and walk toward the reef.  "see ya, Jack," i shouted.  "we'll be seeing you, Jonathan."

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i decided to hold out on pictures for this post.  you'll see photographs of Jack and the reef soon enough.

these few pictures are scenes of colorado along and near the colorado river.  it was gorgeous, ah, to say the least.  really, (this is kind of morbid) i wouldn't mind dying in areas like this.  it would just make for a happy ending, ha!  nevertheless, colorado is a wanderland, asking people like you and me to just wander with no real direction or ambition as long as we can simply appreciate the creation.  please, enjoy them.

the glory of God. 
my first time visiting the gc, not my last.  i couldn't go again for only a few hours.  i need to explore the depth of the canyon.  i need to walk in it, sleep in it, live in it. here are my interpretations of this glorious untamable. 
(only the north rim).

a few pictures.  one from a creepy abandoned town that said there was a cafe. well, there was, it was just closed.  picture two: i stayed at the top of this cliff where i watched the moon fall and the sun rise.  it was absolutely stunning. the last picture is from a storm in nevada with heavy winds (much sand in the eyes) that was right next to i-15.