Antelope Canyon Archives 004: Has the Internet Ruined Nature?

The most common question I get asked before taking guests out on tour is: “Will I see this?” and the person shows me their phone with a heavily edited photo of Antelope Canyon with a light beam coming in from the top.

“No,” I reply honestly.

They are usually disappointed. As if paddling on Lake Powell and hiking in a red rock canyon isn’t beautiful enough. 

Theodore Roosevelt said, “Expectations are the thief of joy,” and he was right but he couldn’t imagine what the Internet would do to people’s expectations. 

It is normal for people to book tours with us because “I saw it on Instagram.”

Social media has transformed the world, making a check list of photos high on the priority list. 

The famous light beam in Antelope Canyon that guests seek only happens at a certain time of day in a certain season of the year, and it’s in a different section of the canyon. 

There are walking tours in the Upper and Lower section of the canyon that are more akin to a line in Disney World or a red tour bus in London where the goal is to snap 1,000 photos in 45 minutes and leave. 

I guide tours in the lowest section of Antelope Canyon, the only portion of the canyon that’s accessible by water and kayaking. It’s more of a wilderness adventure that includes five miles of paddling and up to six miles of hiking.

After living in Page for two years, I finally took a walking tour of the Upper and Lower Section of Antelope Canyon to see what all the hype was about. As we walked through the canyon, the guide pointed to the red wavy walls and said, “That’s the Nokia screensaver from 2007,” and “That’s the Windows 14 screensaver,” as if that matters.

My review of the walking tours where the famous light beams appear is a thumbs up for beauty and thumbs down for experience. After our tour guide had us pose for 50 pictures, enough was enough.

“We’re good on the pictures. We just want to look around,” I said. 

The guide laughed and seemed surprised. 

Has the world become so obsessed with taking pictures that people have forgotten how to experience beauty?

One day I was guiding guests through the canyon. We left our kayaks on the beach, grabbed snacks and started hiking. 

When we encountered the narrowest section (big enough for about one person to comfortably go through at a time), a woman was blocking the path. She was wearing high heel and knee high cowgirl boots, a short white tennis skirt and a push up bra posing in the narrow part of the canyon. 

Three boys accompanied her, all with multiple cameras around their neck. One was in front of her taking photos, one was behind her, and the other had climbed up on a rock to snap photos from above with his cell phone. One of the boys had music blasting from a speaker. 

Rolling my eyes, I waited for them to take her photo and move along. Only they didn’t move along. She struck about fifteen more poses before I said, “Hello, we have a group waiting to come through.”

She looked at me, nodded, then leaned up against the wall with her arms over her head and posed again. 

“Excuse me, we’d like to come through,” I said, less patient this time. 

“Just one more,” she said. But one more photo was not enough. She continued to change positions with her hand on her hip and her foot popping to one side. My guests started to giggle and sigh and whisper. 

Another guide with another tour group came up on the other side of the narrows. He immediately shouted, “Hey! Can you turn the music off?” and when the boy didn’t stop snapping photos, the guide shouted again, “Hey! You’re ruining the sanctity of this canyon! People come here for peace and quiet- can you please turn the music off?”

“Oh. Okay,” the boy said, turning the music off. My guests and I smiled, glad that he said it. 

“Okay, we’re coming through,” I said. “Move along.” 

The group of photo fanatics finally started walking out of the narrows so we could pass through. Once we were on the other side, I offered to take a photo for each of my guests in the most scenic part of the canyon, because there’s nothing wrong with taking a picture to remember a beautiful place and a fun family vacation.

But there’s certainly a line that gets crossed when you forget to experience the place and are only thinking about how you look in the canyon.

A family of four smiled as I took their photo, but when I turned around I saw Cowgirl Boots Girl posing again, only this time she handed one of my guests her phone to take her picture. The kind guest tried handing her phone back after taking a photo.

“More,” Cowgirl Boots said. 

My guests’ eyes widened. Her boyfriend couldn’t contain his laughter when she tried handing the phone back again and Cowgirl Boots said again, “More.”

This was beyond strange behavior. Downright rude in my opinion. Overly self indulgent, especially when she brought three boys with a total of seven cameras to take her photo. 

“Okay, no. That’s enough.” I said, taking her phone and passing it back to her. “Have a nice day.”

My guests looked at me and asked, “Does this happen often?” 

“Too often,” I said, shaking my head. 

Taking a few photos is okay. Taking 100 photos in the exact same spot is too much. 

To be perfectly clear, this attitude of dress hot so I can look good in nature for photos for social media disturbs me deeply.

I worry about the state of humanity when they aren’t even interested in saying hello to people as they pass. Who see other people as in the way of their photo, or ruining their picture because they’re in the background which shatters the illusion that they are in this canyon all alone. 

Most people Google thousands of photos of Antelope Canyon before coming to see it. Why- just to make sure they’re gonna like it? As if nature is only good to be in if it’s pretty enough to take a photo? 

There is something humanity is losing and that’s the ability to explore. Part of exploring is not knowing the outcome but going out to discover something new. Part of discovery is disappointment. Getting lost or not getting to see the best view because you don’t know where it is or how far away you are from it. 

But the other part of discovery is experiencing awe and wonder. Walking around a corner and having no idea what you’ll see is one of the most alluring feelings.

When we let the world surprise us instead of expecting the world to show us exactly what we saw on the Internet, we can start exploring again. 

And to breathe some empathy into this post, the Internet has changed our daily lives forever. We are tasked with being the guinea pigs of a new technological era, and it’s hard to explore when most of the trails have names, photos, and GPS tags on them. But we can choose how we interact with the technological and natural world around us. 

We don’t need to smash our smartphones and refuse to capture any photos in order to be present with the landscape and the people we’re exploring with. We only need to find the right balance of living in the moment and capturing a sliver of time to share with others.


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