Skip to main content

Over the Rim

In this episode – Over the Rim . . .



Early dawn breaks in Arizona; with both arms frantically flailing, I grab to catch my hat. An enormous blast of wind snatched it off my head in a split second. My well-worn "Indiana Jones" style fedora plummets end-over-end hundreds of feet over the rim of the Grand Canyon. Flabbergasted - the moment felt ageless, like a scene from an ole' western movie in slow motion, "Well, there's no way I'll find that hat again!"


Tenacity! photo by - Patrick Ball
We've just crested Ooh Aah Point on the South Kaibab Trail in the Grand Canyon in northern Arizona. It's a cool crisp morning, and the wind whips through the canyon like a cyclone. You experience slight dizziness and are somewhat giddy from vertigo, afraid to get too close to the rim. The sheer drops plummet over 3,000 feet. But as time passes, you become accustomed to the wind and the comfort and security of the wide multipurpose trail.

Magically you're drawn into views of spires, buttes, mesas, and talus slopes from different vantage points along the mile-and-one-half trail to Yaki Point. Panoramic vistas of reds, oranges, gold, and sand against a turquoise blue sky with puffy white clouds.

"It seems a gigantic statement for even nature to make." John Muir.

Since the 1870s, visitors have flocked to the south rim on foot, horseback, wagons, and stagecoaches, by rail, automobiles, and busses. Grand Canyon National Park was established in 1919, only three years after the creation of the National Park Service. Today environmentally friendly shuttle buses transport you to trailheads, viewpoints, hotels, and architectural works of art.

If you're there for a few days, any conversation with the locals goes like this, "Most visitors today spend about two hours on average, then move on."


"I can relate to that; my first visit was no different."


While moving west to California in 1985, the three-day drive from Illinois took me across I-40. Approaching Williams, Arizona, the thought occurred: I'll detour north and see the Grand Canyon; why not? After about an hour of driving through flat desert scrub on Route 64, you begin to question your decision, "Where is this big hole in the ground anyway?" Finally, you arrive-breathtaking panoramic reds, oranges, and gold vistas against a clear blue sky. It's mid-afternoon, with the sun high in the sky, and the features are flat – but you've made the trip, so you're determined to take a few photos at the rim. Nothing extraordinary, proof you were there.


Twenty-six years later, grasping for your hat as it plummets over the rim, you calmly grin and experience the delight of re-discovery!


Here’s a tip; if you're looking for framable photos, spend the night, get out early, and experience how the morning shadows cause the light to dance through the canyon. It's spectacular!


Today's Thought for the Day; "The mystery of life is not a problem to be solved but a reality to be experienced." - Aart van dee Leeuwa.


I’m Patrick Ball; thanks for listening; see you in the next episode.


Updated: March 9, 2023

Comments

Most Popular of All Time

Confidently Wrong: The Art of the AI Tall Tale

In this episode, A chat with Adamas the Chef on hidden recipes causing digital hallucinations. Pull up a chair and pour yourself a fresh cup of coffee—and please, for your own sake, taste it first. We need to have a quiet chat about why your computer sometimes decides to reinvent reality with the confidence of a five-star chef who has clearly lost his mind. In the world of technology, we call it a  hallucination . It sounds pretty dramatic, doesn’t it? As if the computer decided to ignore your instructions altogether in favor of a vivid, technicolor imagination that simply hasn’t met reality yet. But in truth, an AI hallucination isn’t a breakdown; it’s just a very confident, very polite mistake. Think of it like our friend Adamas , the Chef. Adamas is a master of the kitchen, but he is also a bit of a romantic who refuses to say “I don’t know.” When you ask him for a classic recipe he hasn’t made in years, he doesn’t stop to consult a cookbook—that’s far too pedestrian. Instead, ...

Opening Day Magic 2026 . . .

It’s back. Baseball—yes, baseball ! If you’re someone who finds themselves inexplicably drawn to this peculiar ritual, let’s be honest with each other: it’s a bit odd, right? I mean, 162 games. That’s a lot of hot dogs, a lot of standing around, and a lot of grown men in oddly tailored trousers spitting with remarkable precision. And yet, here we are, poised on the precipice of another season. Thursday, March 26, 2026, to be precise—Opening Day. It’s a curious thing, this Opening Day. You walk into a stadium, or turn on the TV, and suddenly, everyone is infected with a highly contagious strain of . . . Optimism . It’s a spectacular form of collective amnesia. All of last year’s fumbles, the endless losing streaks, the existential dread of watching your bullpen implode in the eighth inning—poof. Gone. It’s entirely replaced by a wide-eyed, childlike belief that this year, finally, the baseball gods will smile upon us. The Cycle of Hope and Despair As a Cubs fan, I know this cycle intim...

Overcooking the Grid

In this episode, terrified of smart toasters, yet demanding infinite electricity for potato personality tests. Pull up that chair again, and let’s hope your coffee is safe this time. In our last chat, we talked about our well-meaning but occasionally delusional AI friend, Chef Adamas, and his penchant for hallucinating blueberries into your Carbonara. We learned how to manage his quirks by keeping our “digital pantry” organized. But today, we need to look past the chef and take a hard look at the sheer size of the kitchen we are building for him. And folks, that kitchen has gotten completely out of hand. Down in Louisiana, tech companies are currently building an artificial intelligence data center the size of 70 football fields. It is a four-million-square-foot digital brain that requires so much electricity they are building three new natural gas power plants just to keep the servers from literally melting down into a puddle of expensive silicon. And what are we using this god-like, ...

Richard T. Liddicoat–Mr. GIA

In this episode, Mr. GIA . . . Can you name one person who, during your lifetime, changed your life in an extraordinary way? Was it a parent, a teacher, a historical figure, or maybe a serendipitous acquaintance? One person stands out among all others -  Richard T. Liddicoat . Sunday, March 2, 2025, would have been Mr. Liddicoat’s 107th birthday. Although he passed away in 2002, his memory lives on in me. In 1985, as a resident student at the Gemological Institute of America (GIA) in Santa Monica, CA, I was invited by Richard T. Liddicoat Jr. (then Chairman of the Board) to his office. Liddicoat was a student of human nature, a lover of gemstones, and a lifetime GIA advocate. He would visit every Resident (on campus) Colored Stone/Gem Identification classroom just before each class was to graduate. He would often bring samples of remarkable gems submitted to the GIA Gem Trade Laboratory for the students to see. He would also stop by a classroom to discuss industry trends, the ...