The genius of the Box Canyon concept is the simplicity of it. That is what we were laughing about as we attempted to scale a canyon wall with a heavy, custom-built tap floor on our shoulders. Below, at the base of the climb, three cameras, multiple gear cases and backpacks, cables, and a brand new (and very fragile) hammered dulcimer all waited their turn. So much for the elegance of an easy post-lunch stroll with a camera or two in tow.
We were hiking in to a smoother spot, one that seemed fit for the stage, much deeper in the canyon than previous shoots. Once there, Andrew swapped his boots for his tap shoes. “Soft leather, metal, and water is not a good combination,” he explained. Max tuned his dulcimer and helped get the sound right. A few stray rocks fell from above, narrowly missing the body of his instrument and leaving him unamused.
It’s easy to imagine all varieties of visitors passing through these stone walls: Native Americans, countless animals, generations of campers, and recurring flash floods among them. But we’re confident in saying this was the first time the sounds of a tap dancer and a hammered dulcimer ricocheted down Box Canyon.