"The Important Thing Is the Path"
It all started with a video. I was scrolling through the web when, out of nowhere, I saw it: a woman seen from behind, wading waist-deep through a still, turquoise creek tucked between canyon walls covered with lush vegetation. That was all it took - the view instantly transformed into a calling. The Havasupai Reservation wouldn't leave my mind, especially after I realized that the scene from the video was "only" one wonder among many. As I dug deeper, a whole network of famous and less-known waterfalls and breathtaking spots revealed itself. The full potential of this land began to unfold before me, and the curiosity sparked by that video turned into a full-scale mission. The Havasupai land, with all its surreal scenery, became my primary goal.
I finally managed to obtain a permit - a significant milestone that brought my primary goal within reach. But just one month later, a pandemic changed everything, and the reservation shut down, much like the rest of the world. Two years passed, and I had built a long and complex itinerary, where the Havasupai land was the key pillar. This destination was the very reason for my Arizona trip; it was the starting point from which everything else would follow. But while the rest of the world began to reopen, this tribal land remained closed. As the area stayed off-limits, I had no choice but to skip this place of wonders. My heart truly ached as I had to find another spot for those days.
Still, I had to drive the route leading to the road that approaches the Havasupai trailhead, as my complex itinerary and two years of postponed bookings left no more room for change. Passing the fork that leads to the start of the hike deeply hurt. Later that afternoon, I drove back from my hotel, turned onto that road, and pulled over immediately. I just sat there in the car, listening to a song and watching the horizon. I had been waiting three years to reach the Havasupai tribal lands; I was standing at the "gate", yet I couldn't go any further. It was one of the most emotional moments of my life. I felt a deep longing to connect with the Earth in that specific place. Yet, at the same time, I was overwhelmed with joy: for the first time in my life, I was driving Route 66 - alone and free. Exploring it while the big hits of the 60s filled the car was one of the absolute highlights of my journey. I have rarely felt such a sense of liberation as I did during that time. It was a storm of mixed emotions.
That day, I had my doubts. I wondered if I'd ever return to this point, cross that line, and finally fulfill my Havasupai mission. I told the lady at my accommodation how heartbroken I was to miss the trail, though I still hoped to find my way back the following year. She just smiled encouragingly and said: "Sure, you'll be here next year."
She was right. A year later, I returned to that very fork, and this time, I could finally pass it to reach that magic land. I saw many similar scenes just like the one in the video - probably the exact same location as well - but I also discovered stunning blue falls and breathtaking spots, like where the turquoise creek meets the muddy Colorado River. I finally felt that connection to the Earth I had longed for. Every Havasupai goal of mine was achieved. Yet, through the years of waiting and the journey itself, I learned something deeper: "The important thing is the path. The real goals...you discover them along the way." [13]
Learn to let things go and lean into new chances as they come, without ever having to forget your original goals. Keep your patience, cherish the present, and try not to worry in advance; it never helps, it only creates more problems. Recognize when you've done everything you could; it is this very knowledge that allows you to find peace, even when things don't go as planned. Focus only on the pursuit of happiness [14] in the present and the people that are truly worth it. Realize when you're in a moment you'll likely never have again, and try to keep it going as long as possible. And if we are like-minded, strive to capture that moment - to be spellbound by it later. This is how we all come to know that the most important thing is the path.
However, I would be lying if I said I no longer have ambitions or that I didn't want to see every corner of that reservation as I had planned (the milestones of my primary goal). After four years of uncertainty, I entered one of the most peaceful states of my life the moment I laid eyes on Havasu Falls and was overwhelmed by complete tranquility (this particular waterfall is perhaps the most iconic natural wonder of the reservation, located next to the campground). But I truly realized the real goals along the "way", and I feel very lucky.
And honestly, despite everything I've written, it is still hard for me to accept when things don't go as planned. But I always keep trying to improve, enjoying each moment as much as possible even through difficulties. I strive to learn from and use every opportunity I have, living by these simple, personal lessons.
First, I’ll show you the chapters of my path before entering Havasupai:
Next, let's explore why my path led to the Havasupai Reservation and the incredible areas beyond its borders:
As a final touch, I made a special friend in Arizona along the way, so let me introduce a very funny buddy of mine!
Do you see anybody in the picture below? If you're looking for a clue, just check the next picture.

So, the arrow shows a little guy. Still don't see him? Ok, check the next picture to see my friend zoomed-in.

Ok, it looks like this chipmunk has already spotted me and...

...it’s threateningly staring me down, telling me to stop taking photos. He’s probably thinking: "Just come a bit closer! I might be a tiny creature, but I can show you the bottom of the canyon!"

Despite the threats, I decided to be brave and approached the chipmunk anyway.

Zoomed in once more. Seeing this close-up as he stares out over the canyon made me look back at the previous photo; I just realized what an incredible view this little guy gets to enjoy every day. I’m not sure he can truly appreciate the landscape, but I’d like to think he does.

Anyway, I couldn't help myself - I wanted more photos even if it made him angrier. I switched back to zoom, only to see him staring me down again. It wasn't a friendly look. It was more like: "Wasn't I clear enough? Do you want to see the real Grand Canyon?"

So, to keep our friendship intact, I took one last shot and decided it was best to leave. I still think of this encounter as a true friendship whenever I look back on these moments.

So, how about you? Are you ready to find your own little buddy in Arizona?






