Stepping onto the Skywalk

The taste of vinegar soiled the roof of Jade’s dry mouth. No amount of tongue smacking would moisten her cracked lips. The harsh, Arizona desert heat wafted in from the open doors ahead of them, flooding over the throng of people standing in line.

“All cellphones, purses, cameras and any other loose personal items go in the lockers!” one of the Hualapai tribe members yelled out over the loud crowd.

Jade and her husband arrived at the row of cabinets, and the fear was growing ever deeper within her chest. Heart pumping and hands shaking, she managed to get her purse and phone into the small locker, leaving her husband to hold the key. The last thing her mind could handle right now was more pressure, even trivial amounts in that of the simple task of carrying a key.

Sweat lathered her palms, oozing out oily anxiety. Rubbing them on her hiking pants would temporarily remedy the wetness, only for the damp intrusion to manifest once again a few seconds later. Looking down, she noticed her fingers were trembling even more.

They were eight deep from the prepping area now. She could see the bright sunlight pouring through the open doors where other visitors laughed and smiled while putting on the shoe coverings provided by the reservation. How they could smile, let alone laugh at such a horrific endeavor, Jade would never know.

Forth in line to the entrance.

It was at the moment she noticed the roiling in her stomach. Her guts were swimming in a sea of doubt and panic. Her hand rubbed her bubbling tummy, accidently squeezing out an errant bulb of nervous flatulence that thankfully went unnoticed among the other guests. She closed her eyes and began swaying from side-to-side, focusing on enforcing her stoicism.

Then she felt two hands gently clasp her shoulders, massaging them with those strong, long fingers she so loved. She reached back, placing a hand on one of her husband’s as he rubbed the tension out of her neck. It worked. She could feel the negative energy swirling out of her, hopefully out into the ether rather than into him. A kiss on the top her head said it was probably the former.

Second in line now. One more minute and they would be putting on those well-used shoe coverings. Her toes began tapping. She could see outside the door at that point. Most people slowly stumbled about the clear platform, holding onto the railing as if their life depended on it. Others, mainly the attendants, walked around freely, as if they were having just a normal morning stroll.

She dared not look down at the floor of the platform, lest she lose her nerve. She told herself she would do this. She promised herself, and her husband. For she was Jade—a woman of purpose, a woman of strength and commitment. She couldn’t let herself or her husband down. She had to do this.  

She felt someone nudge her out of her trance. Her husband was handing her two shoe coverings. This was it. The last plank of the pier before plunging into the water; the horrifying, frightful water.

They sat on the bench, struggling to put on the soiled coverings. Her hands wouldn’t stop shaking. Each gust of hot wind rushing through the door fluttered her hair about like Medusa’s snakes. The dark brown strands stuck to her forehead, also covered in sweat. She sniffed sharply, trying to compose herself. It was then that her husband reached over and helped her put the shoe coverings on her dusty boots as she leaned back against the wall, exhaling through pursed lips.

Hand in hand, the couple stood and stepped up to the entrance of the Grand Canyon Skywalk. Although the hot breeze pushed back against them, it felt to Jade that it was trying to suck them out—scolding tendrils ushering them forth into this terrifying adventure. Her breathing grew heavy as she closed her eyes once more. The other visitors gently pushed past them, understanding her predicament. At first, she thought the natives on the reservation were hosting a drum circle outside, but she soon realized it was simply the blood pumping inside her head, beating her eardrums with a heart-fueled tempest.

A squeeze of her hand. She opened her eyes and looked up to see her husband smiling back at her, his eyes warm and patient. He then nodded. A nod that told her everything was going to be okay. A nod that told her not to be afraid.

One last deep breath. Then a step. And another. The bright sunlight barraged her retinas as they passed the threshold onto the Skywalk, stepping into a glowing realm of simultaneous wonder and trepidation. As her wobbling feet met the clear platform, the wind blew her hair back even harder, causing her to grasp the railing on her right and squeeze it so hard the blood rushed out her fingers, leaving them pale and numb. The pounding in her chest grew ever louder.

But she did not relent. Husband in one hand, railing in the other, Jade slowly slid her feet forward, taking one small step at a time. Her eyes stayed glued to the railing, not quite ready to take in her surroundings, or lack thereof. She simply focused on those small steps.

Suddenly, she felt a small gap underneath her feet. Looking down and slightly panicking, she noticed the intentional space between the thick glass panels, as well as the cliff face below. Immediately, her head began to swoon. The thumping in her chest no longer a steady beat of drums, but now a full-blown orchestra, rattling her rib cage and chattering her teeth. But she didn’t look away. No, she forced herself to stare down through the glass plates. Granted, this was only the entrance, and she was looking at the side of the cliff that was only a few meters below them. And she was thankful, as it was a good warmup to the full experience. But her debilitating fear of heights was in full effect despite the shorter distance.  

Her sweaty hand was squeezed gently once more. She looked up to see her smiling husband giving her a thumbs up with his free hand. He was standing directly in the middle of the glass panels. He whistled out jokingly. It was obvious he was nervous as well, but not fearful. He never had a major problem with heights. But even this was enough to rustle his feathers. But his calm demeanor and big smile comforted her. She would push forward.

The creaking from the panel’s edges didn’t bring her any peace, however, as every step sent a jolt of anxiety shooting up her legs and spine. Everything in her body was telling her to turn back, run away, get to safety! But how could she look herself in the mirror if she turned back now? They came all this way, standing in line in one-hundred-degree weather. How foolish would it be to run when she was right there with her goal just within reach.

Another small step. Then another. Before she knew it, they were nearly halfway to their destination: the apex of the Skywalk’s tip. The wind was much calmer the further they got from the main building. Her hair now mostly rested on her shoulders. This too helped calm her.

A little girl rushed past them, bumping into Jade’s husband. She squealed happily, thoroughly enjoying the sights and sounds of the magnificence that was the Grand Canyon. She stepped to the side and plastered her face against one of the glass panels, looking off into the distance. Jade and her husband laughed, Jade more nervously than humorously. How could she let this little girl beat her? She snickered to herself.

Looking around the Skywalk, she found that she wasn’t the only one struggling. There were several other visitors grasping the railing with iron grips. But many of them were laughing, at themselves, and the situation. Others walked around without a care in the world. She used that—made it her inspiration. Chose to allow it to give her strength rather than envy. She would finish this task.

More steps. Faster this time. Her husband let out a surprised chuckle, not expecting her to pick up the pace. She was still holding the railing on the inner curve of the ‘U’ that made up the Skywalk. And when they arrived to the middle, there was simply one last task to complete. She had to cross the glass panels to make it to the outer curve, and thus the apex. But the ten feet across the clear platform might as well have been ten miles.

That was when she unintentionally looked down for the first time since she moved from the entrance. Below them, her sight was graced with the most intensely horrifying yet captivating view. Some four thousand feet below was the canyon floor, covered in brush and crevices of all sorts. The pristine cliff faces of the Grand Canyon was a sight to behold. And off some two miles to the north, ran the Colorado River—a beacon of hope in this stifling yet beautiful desert. And she froze. Terrified at the view beneath her, but not able to look away.

Her fingers began to ache from gripping the railing so tightly. But then her husband stepped out in front of her, and reached out to take both her hands this time. She shook her head no. But like her, he wouldn’t give up either. He nodded, and slid his hand down her arm until they reached the vice grip that was her fingers. It took some coaxing, but he eventually was able to get her to open them and place her trust in him.

With no railing to hold onto, his hands became the new lifeline. She squeezed them to the point of him wincing in pain. But he continued to usher her forward. With little steps, she moved to the middle of the glass platform, looking into his bright eyes rather than down. How funny she must look, like an infant learning to walk.

It was only a few seconds, but it seemed like minutes before she arrived to the outer curve of the platform. She had done it! Both her hands clasped the railing with a death grip. The sweaty palms and fingers made the metal feel oily on her skin. But then her husband put an arm around her and waved a hand before them, presenting her with the whole world.

An involuntary gasp escaped her lips. For never before had she seen such a sight. Looking through the glass from the inner curve of the Skywalk was one thing, but seeing the canyon from the apex with no barrier was truly wondrous. Before her was a view so breathtaking that she thought she would faint. Grandiose plateaus, as far as the eye could see. Red cliffs, lined with weathered wrinkles; the old men of the canyon. Gigantic depths of astronomical proportions. And the Colorado River cutting through it all—the life’s blood of the canyon paving a path to adventure. And as if on cue, a lone condor soared overhead, somewhat close by, no doubt hoping for treats from the noisy tourists.

A tear slid down Jade’s cheek. All thoughts of fear from the height vanished, as she was instead enraptured with something far more powerful in that moment. Her racing heart had slowed, even becoming calm. Although briefly, she felt she was soaring over the canyon, wind blowing through her hair, the cliffs and plateaus greeting her as she sailed past them. The river below beckoning for her to dive in and shed the outer world’s stress. In that moment, it was just her and the wondrous nature of the canyon enveloping her. She had done it. She had won, and it congratulated her.

A particularly sharp gust of hot wind pushed her back slightly, causing her to tighten her grip on the railing even more. Back to reality. She looked to her husband who understood immediately. He took her in arm and they slowly made their way around the Skywalk, eventually arriving at the exit back into the main building.

Jade plopped down on the bench and exhaled with a big sigh. The sweat on her brow gathered enough to cause a drip down to her chin. Her husband had taken his shoe coverings off and was now helping with hers.

“You did it babe,” he said in that deep but gentle voice of his. “You got to the end. You did awesome!”

“Yeah,” Jade replied, exhausted. “I did, didn’t I?”

“Mm-hmm.” He dumped the shoe coverings in the large bin next to the benches and sat down next to her. “Well? What do you think? Was it worth the trip?”

“Oh yeah. Completely. It was amazing. Who would’ve thought the Grand Canyon would be so…grand! Ha!” She leaned her head against his shoulder, not quite ready to stand up as her legs were still somewhat wobbly.

“Heh. I know, right?” He patted her knee. “Ya know? We still got some time. We can go back out again if you want.”

“Uh, no thanks. I'm good.”

Her husband chuckled.

“No. I conquered this one. I'm content. I think I’ll just take the win. Now let’s go home.”