The Grand View
Seeing Beyond What is Visible
In a post from 2022, I reflected on a moment in the Grand Canyon as we approached Horseshoe Mesa on the last day of our “five-day” backpacking trip along the trail-less Escalante Route. The other day, I remembered another part of that story— what happened after we ascended to the mesa.
Our plan was to climb 2,000 feet up to Horseshoe Mesa and set up camp for the night before tackling the remaining 3,000 feet out of the canyon the next day. Before our trip, park rangers had warned us that a group of guys from Indiana ought not to be so ambitious in attempting the route in five days. They told us most people should plan for six or seven days. But when we reached Horseshoe Mesa by 1 p.m. on our fourth day, we decided to eat lunch and finish the climb out.
The Indiana boys crushed it—and we treated ourselves to pizza that evening.
But I remember those last couple hundred feet of switchbacks leading to Grandview Point. As we got closer, we could see what seemed like a hundred people standing above us, watching. I honestly thought they were there to cheer us on. We were rough and dirty, probably a little red from constant sun exposure. I’m certain we picked up the pace for our observers. But as we reached the top, it became clear—no one cared what we had just accomplished. They were just taking in the “Grand View,” if you will.
I sat on the stone wall, away from the crowd, catching my breath and resting my legs. An older woman approached and asked what we had just done. I told her, and she responded, “I thought I would be able to see the Colorado River from here.”
I smiled, stood, and told her to follow me. When we got to the edge, I pointed into the distance.
“Do you see that tiny streak of green far off in the distance?”
“Yes.”
“That’s the Colorado River,” I said. “That’s where we started—thirty-five miles away. What everyone sees from this point is only 2,000 feet down. There’s another 3,000 feet you can’t see from here.”
I think about that brief encounter often and what it reveals about perspective and wisdom. Sometimes, you may believe you have the full and most expansive view from where you stand. You believe you have the “Grand View.” But if you take a humble, contemplative stance and open yourself to questioning the reality of your truly limited view, you may expand your perspective and grow in wisdom from those who have walked paths you have not yet taken. Humble seekers always understand that their perspective is narrow—and they are eager to expand it.
Question
Where in my life do I assume I have the full picture, and how might I expand my perspective by learning from those who have traveled paths I have not?
Peace,
Brandon
Go West, Young Man!
The farthest west I had traveled until 2006, when I was 32 years old, was Nebraska. Looking at my pictures and hearing my backpacking stories now, you’d have a hard time believing it took me so long to cross the Continental Divide.