That was the year I turned 57 and my Aquarian slash old slash adventure-prone personality completely ignored our tour guide's warning:

"Hold onto your phones. If a sudden gust of wind snatches your phone and blows it into the canyon, I'm not going in there after it."

But I didn't plan any risky, dangerous moves. I was just soooo excited — like I always get when I travel; more if it's a special occasion.

Let me explain.

It was my birthday trip to Arizona — my very first visit there.

I did just enough research to book my flight/hotel package (I love Expedia) and reserve my spot on the tour bus to the Grand Canyon.

Oh, and I researched tarantulas. 🕷️

Where are the tarantulas — and are they gonna visit my hotel?

Apparently, there's some late summer/early fall tarantula schedule that they leave the desert and wander into people's yards looking for a mate.

Because Google said so, I was relatively sure that my arachnophobia was safe from worrying about big, hairy, desert tarantulas leaving their burrows to wander around Phoenix looking for mates.

At least that's what I hoped since it was February.

A cold, snowy February 1st to be exact — and I couldn't wait to step off the plane into the 70-degree Phoenix temps.

But a bit more weather research would've been helpful.

Had I not been fixated on where the spiders were so I could stay away from them, maybe I might've discovered that the Grand Canyon wasn't in Phoenix.

But I'm an adventure woman.

Too much planning irritates me.

Yeah, that sounds good, but the bottom line is, it never crossed my mind that to get to the Grand Canyon, we'd have to leave the warm, 70-plus temps in Phoenix to get to the ice and snow decorating the canyon.

Seriously?! I left Baltimore's cold, snowy temps for this?

I had money though. And at each rest stop, I bought another layer of clothes to put on under my thin jean jacket.

Even still I was underdressed — passing by other visitors bundled up in warm weather gear against temperatures that kept the snow and ice in tact.

I don't even recall feeling the cold though.

It's amazing how a full-on adrenaline rush can warm your body.

But here's where my adventure crashed headlong into stupid.

You know the rails surrounding the canyon? The ones that keep you from falling in? I didn't want them in my pictures.

I wanted a picture of me with the canyon behind me — and no rail to mess up the view.

When I saw the concrete embankment that I could climb up and get what I want, that's all it took.

I gave my phone to a lady in another group of tourists to take my picture.

"We told her No!" they'd probably say later, gleefully snapping pictures in the moment as a sudden gust of wind snatched me up and blew me into the canyon.

I tip-toed across ice and snow toward the unprotected edge of the Grand Canyon, then dropped to my knees to crawl within about 10 feet of the edge.

Stupid mission accomplished.

Sometimes you just gotta do what your excitement tells you to do — and pray for the best.

I turned 63 on Feb 1, 2025 — no risky adventures this year.

But I can't promise that I'm done.

Vicki 🪷