We live vicariously through adventurers, explorers, parents of the most adorable and apparently perfect children, and the people who inspire us through social media. For me, this happens primarily within the beautiful world of Instagram. Insta-moments, experiences that are captured perfectly through a cell phone camera, run through a simple filter or two to enhance the image, transform it into something slightly better than real life, are even woven into our day-to-day lives. We look for Instagrammable frames, the often simple beauty in the things that surround us. Our Insta-lives allow us to share the things that delight, inspire and challenge us. And they allow us to discover places and things we may never have discovered otherwise.
Sometime in the last few years, down an Instagram rabbit hole, I stumbled upon photos of an amazing, mystical place. A slot canyon in Arizona (technically two, I would learn later) that can be visited only with a Navajo guide. When plans for this vision quest began to fall into place, there was never any doubt - Antelope Canyon would be one of my destinations.
Less than 2 hours after leaving my $5 campground in Utah and passing the cows on the side of the road, the excitement began to build as I crossed the border into Arizona. I arrived at Upper Antelope Canyon a few minutes after 9, when tours began for the day. The parking lot was already moderately full, and when I walked up to a picnic table where two women were selling tour tickets, I learned that arriving at 9 was not, in fact, arriving early. The earliest available spot was at 11 - all earlier tours were already sold out. With no shade and a blazing sun already intensifying the desert heat, the idea of waiting for two hours was far from appealing. I headed back to my car, and thought maybe, just maybe, if I could get into the next tour for Lower Antelope Canyon, I might be able to experience both in one day. I drove across the highway to a larger parking lot, and ran up to the first counter to ask if I could get into the next tour. Luck was on my side - another tour was starting in 10 minutes and they had a spot open! I joined the group and we followed our young tour guide across the desert and began climbing down a tall staircase into the canyon.
It was exactly what Instagram had promised. Undulating curves of red rock twisting and turning, playing with light and shadow to create an other-worldly experience. But what Instagram so carefully hides are the crowds of people just out of frame.
Two young Ukrainian women who posed for pictures at every opportunity with deadpan pouts and a tilted head. The photographer, one of their boyfriends, always shot from a lower angle looking up. Clearly they decided this must be their best angle and had trained him to flatter them with his shoot. Many times, they ignored the tour guide's request to not climb on the rocks.
A German family of four took photos at every turn, the father asking his wife and two children to pose so he could take many shots at each location, holding up the groups behind them.
While not all visitors behaved poorly, we all were swept up in the challenge of capturing this experience on film. I fell into the same pattern as all Instagrammers before me, and avoided including other people in my shots at all cost. A few moments I wondered - are we really experiencing this? Really soaking it in, when the person next to us is elbowing us in hopes of getting a better shot?
It felt so wrong, and yet this place was so spectacular, I was able to be shuffled along by the sea of people around me, and still appreciate it. I could still look up and wonder if this was actually happening, if I was actually here, Instagram come to life before me. Yet all of the truths masked by a carefully framed shot surrounded me, and it lost some of the magic I felt when I first looked at photo after photo tagged with #antelopecanyon.
As time ticked by, I began to feel anxious. I figured I'd be in the lower canyon for an hour or so, back with plenty of time to make my 11:00 tour at the upper canyon. But the German family slowed us all down, and before I knew it, it was 10:30, and then 10:40. I began to bypass people, including my tour guide, and headed toward the front of the canyon, slipping into the tour group in front. When we emerged from the canyon, it was already 10:50. I had been told to meet where I had bought my ticket for the upper canyon at 10:45. After what felt like serendipity, getting into a tour at the lower canyon, would I miss the original tour I had paid for after all?
I sprinted to my car, ignoring the smiling man offering bottled water, and sped back across the highway. 10:55. Please let me make it! I parked and ran to the group of open safari-style vehicles. A man with a clipboard appeared to be getting ready to tell the drivers to head out, and when I told him my name he said "girl, I've been looking for you!" and directed me to the last vehicle. I breathed a huge sigh of relief as we took off toward the canyon.
Lower Antelope Canyon is known for its vibrant red rocks, illuminated by an abundance of daylight. My tour guide had explained that the lower canyon is shaped like a V, with the bottom of the canyon as the point, and the top of the canyon opening up to the sky. Upper Antelope Canyon is the opposite, she said, with the opening to the sky much smaller than the base of the canyon. Because light is limited, this canyon is favored by professional and amateur photographers hoping to capture an infamous beam of light streaming into the canyon.
The tour at this canyon was even busier, with multiple tours from multiple companies entering at the same time. We inched by people ending their tours, for unlike the lower canyon, here you entered and exited in the same place. A young Japanese tourist walked behind me, her selfie stick extended over my shoulder, completely bursting any semblance of a personal bubble of space. Here I knew photos would hardly do this place justice. I stopped and allowed people to pass me at times so I could soak up a moment of chiaroscuro before me. The light changed so quickly, shadows and beams of light had changed character by the time I was making the return trip.
I was incredibly grateful to see both canyons, recognizable Instagram moments brought to life. But it made me wonder, is it disingenuous to show only what we want to see? To highlight the beautiful and conceal the mess? Or is it simply the lens we choose to use on our lives? My morning excursion was both delightful and frustrating all at once. As if the Instagram filters had been lifted, and I could see that while real life is beautiful, to see and appreciate that beauty you may have to ignore the crowds and disrespectful tourists just out of frame.
So beautifully written, as always! I had so many of the same thoughts at The Grand Canyon, I had wanted to visit it so badly and the excitement was squashed when I realized it really was just an “amusement park”. And as a photographer who specializes in branding, I’ve become an expert in concealing the mess and only capturing the beauty which really troubles me sometimes, so I really appreciate I’m not the only ones who thinks of these things.Thank you for sharing!