I had just spent 6 months in the dry deserts of Phoenix, Arizona and knew it was time to head home to the Pacific Northwest. But not before stopping and seeing the mighty Grand Canyon. I traveled to Williams, Arizona where I boarded the Grand Canyon Railway. Winter was abundant in the high plateaus of Northern Arizona. Snow fell silently and covered the tracks in a blanket of white. I glided through the vastness of the American West toward my destination, the sugar pines weighted down in their winter coat, who knew the high desert could be so beautiful? I took my last drink of apple cider and stepped onto the platform. The snow crunched under my feet and the wind whipped the snow against my cheeks. I walked to rim and looked, it was enclosed in clouds. I traveled the edge of the rim undeterred by the winter storm, I walked and I waited and I was rewarded. Underneath the clouds was the single most amazing sight I have seen. A mile below the canyon was untouched by the snow and the sun poking through the clouds reflected the red rocks of the canyon floor. The contrast in both weather and light made for spectacular photography and a hike I will never forget.