This is Lower Antelope Canyon. I have never seen a space like this in my life. It makes you marvel at nature in some of the deepest and most sincere ways. I loved everything about it and hate that they farm tourists through it pointing out beams of light, or curves that look like Nemo or an elephant or whatever — even though, ironically, the fact that they farm tourists through is the only reason I was able to see the space.
I was talking with the owner of the motel where I stayed in Page, and he said that when he was in high school, this slot canyon was essentially ignored, and he and his friends would come down into it to goof around, start fires, and dare each other to do stupid things like jump from one side to another. He said they called the two canyons “upper crack” and “lower crack” back then.
Tourism industries in places like these are double-edged swords; I find myself struggling to come to terms with it. Places like this have become so much more accessible. As a traveler, I love it. At the same time, as a seeker of authentic experiences, I don’t like it very much.
What is the happy medium?