It's not the fall that'll kill you.

Just to see if we could overcome the gravity of Flagstaff, we headed towards some random Natural Wonder of the World.

 

 I can't believe this isn't more photographed.

 

Nobody goes there anymore; it's too crowded.

Navajo (Diné) victory dance.

It was wonderful. Instead of resenting the crowds, I felt happy we were all there to see this. It rained on us considerably, which I didn't mind nearly as much as the thunder while we were at the Rim. Annie pointed out all the trees that were taller than us and had never been struck by lightening, so I got off the ground and kept walking.

We plan to head up with the Duck and claim a spot nearish the South Rim. I guess there's no such thing as parking AT the Rim on that side of the Canyon (correct me if I'm wrong, PLEASE), so we'll get as close as we can.

Hey, didja year the one about nighttime Duck hunting with paintball guns? It's a screamer. 

We thought it was hail, but really we were being shot at. The clever marksmen were camping half a mile down the road, with yellow paint everywhere, so it was easy for law enforcement to track down the group.

It ends with sheriff's deputies running the warriors out of the forest. No arrests were made. For a little while, it looked like the Duck had egged itself. We blame the bad behavior on the fire ban being lifted, so it's more appealing for a certain undesirable element to head for the forest. The other undesirable element is already here.