Greg and I at Plateau Point overlooking the Colorado. |
We slept in a bit Monday morning at Greg’s place in Phoenix, and didn’t get on the road until about 10am. This led to us not arriving at the Grand Canyon until almost 2pm. With a 5:37pm sunset looming, Greg and I knew we’d have to limit our afternoon hike. We checked into our room at the Bright Angel Lodge on the south rim and made the drive toward the South Kaibab trailhead east of Grand Canyon Village. The sun was out and the weather was ideal — mid-50s. We knew it would only get warmer, at least during daylight, as we hiked down.
After a few navigational errors by yours truly, we parked on the side of Desert View Drive and began walking on the rim path toward the South Kaibab trailhead. This was my second Grand Canyon experience, but Greg’s first — his initial look into one of the Seven Wonders of the World. As we would discuss several times during our trip, it’s impossible to describe the place or do it justice with photos. You just have to go. Period.
Fifteen minutes into our walk, we reached the South Kaibab trailhead, which sits at 7,200 feet, nearly 5,000 feet above the Colorado River. Not that we were thinking about it, but a hike down to the river would have been 7.1 miles and 4,780 feet of elevation climb. And then, of course, you have to come back up! We were certainly conscious of that as we began down the winding, switchback-heavy trail.
I was surprised that there were but a few little patches of ice underneath the red sand. It was January, but signs of winter were few and far between. I hiked in my Nike sneakers with no issues. The biggest danger, of course, was not looking at the trail. With the gaping canyon and its endless views spread out in front of us, it was a constant battle to keep my eyes on the trail. There was too much to take in — the high-reaching canyon walls on either side of the narrow trail; the multicolored buttes down, down below us in the canyon’s depths; the winding trail laid out before us.
After about 45 minutes of hiking, we came to a flat area with tremendous views in all directions, and decided it was about time we enjoy our packed lunch. We found a rocky ledge and settled in for cheese and crackers, rice cakes and sunflower butter — all staples of trail lunches. The wind picked up as we ate, chilling my bones. I could tell the drastic temperature changes that occur when the Grand Canyon’s sunlight wanes were not far away. We finished eating, packed up, and walked back to the trial. It was a few minutes after 4pm. No sense in pushing things. It was time to ascend.
As it turned out, the ascent was quicker than hiking down. Go figure. If I had checked my journal entry from two years prior, I would have known such a thing. But I hadn’t, and we arrived at the trailhead before 5pm. We walked back toward the Mountaineer on the asphalt path, keeping our eyes on the sky as the colors changed. We drove west on Desert View Drive and stopped at Mather Point, where we joined throngs of people to watch as the sky to the east turned a layered blue below pink. The last rays of sun cast large shadows on the canyon walls. We soaked it all in, trying to stay warm as the temperature plummeted. We also saw our first signs of wildlife by the parking lot — a cast of animals that we thought might be mule or elk (although they lacked horns). The jury is still out on them.
We returned to the room and then walked to the main lodge. At the bar, we enjoyed a couple drinks while chatting with a friendly bartender from Nebraska. He seemed to love his job away from the cornfields, remarking that when he gets tired of the cold and snow — what snow? — of the Grand Canyon, he can always drive a few hours south to Phoenix. Exactly. When we informed him that Nebraska had defeated Ohio State while we sat at the bar, he was stunned. Good night for the Huskers.
Then it was time to grub, and all we had to do was walk down the hall to the Bright Angel Restaurant. Unlike my experience two years ago when there was a wait and the service was slow, the restaurant was pretty empty and we had a great server — his name has slipped my mind — who treated us well. We wined and dined, before heading back out to the rim to brave the temperatures and gaze up at the millions of stars in the pitch-black night. Living in a city, it’s always a luxury when I can see the stars. This was one of those nights.
Day 2!
We arose at 6:30am with sunris on the mind. I was a bit sleepy — probably from all that wine — but it’s a lot easier to wake up when you’re doing it for sunrise at the Grand Canyon as opposed to, say, a work meeting. I layered up — undershirt, longsleeve, fleece, 800-down jacket, rain coat as my outer shell, mittens, hat — and headed outside in the darkness. The temperature was probably in the mid-20s. We drove west on Hermit Road — NOTE: the road is usually only open to the Grand Canyon shuttles, with the exception being December-February — to Hopi Point, the recommended spot for sunrise viewing.
Not surprisingly, a dozen people were already there when we arrived. Sunrise wasn’t until 7:37am, and it wasn’t 7 yet, so we had quite awhile until we’d see the bright yellow sphere. But the sky was already turning interesting colors. We also smartly brought our breakfast, so we sat on some rocks at the guard-railed lookout and munched on gluten-free cereal and keifer. It was good, but I could have used a hot beverage, too. It was cold — especially for sitting on a rock.
The best views were had when the sun eclipsed the east rim of the canyon and splashed light on the walls and buttes to the west. I alternated between snapping photos of the changing landscape and putting my mittens back on to stay warm. In no other place are the sun’s rays so impressively reflected, and with each passing minute, a new rock wall or butte was bathed in light. We took it all in for several minutes before hopping back in the Mountaineer and turning on the seat/butt warmers. It was still frigid out.
But we weren’t going to sit around to wait for warmth. This was our last day at the Grand Canyon, and we were going to make the most of it. After packing up the room and loading the car, we walked over to the rim and the the high point of the Bright Angel Trail at 6,850 feet. I had hiked the trail in 2012, but just 3 miles down. Our plan, as recommended by our Nebraskan bartender the night before, was to tramp 6 miles and 3,105 feet to Plateau Point overlooking the Colorado River — before turning around and hiking up. It was an ambitious hike, which, of course, is my favorite kind of hike.
We got on the trail at 8:52am, which was both good and bad. First, the bad: It was still cold; I would later regret only wearing my fleece and gloves. The good: The morning light was fantastic, as the rising sun cast large, impressive shadows across the land below us. I soaked it all in as we descended long switchbacks, stopping occasionally to take photos. Soon, we spotted ahead of us on the trail two five-packs of mules descending. My guess was they were en route to Phantom Ranch, which is just on the north side of the river (and where I plan on staying with the Dad during our planned April 2015 rim-to-rim-to-rim hike). For a few minutes, I thought we might need to try passing the mules, but they sped up — or we slowed down — and it was never an issue.
A great thing about the Bright Angel Trail is how segmented it is. The fact that there are 1.5- and 3-mile “resthouses” that have bathrooms and even a small shelter, if needed, helps break up the hike. When you reach one of them, you feel like you’ve completed the first quarter, or half. The descent is pretty steady during those first 3 miles, but then begins leveling off during the 1.8 miles to the Indian Garden campground — a huge, sprawling complex, I wanted to call it a village, shaded by trees.
Upon reaching the campground, I felt like we were entering a new ecosystem. There was still the occasional cactus, but trees were ubiquitous. And Greg heard running water. Wait … running water in the Grand Canyon?? As we found out a minute later, yes, there was a small stream by the campground, cabins, outhouses, and mule stable tucked 3,050 feet below the rim.
The Bright Angel Trail continued right toward the Colorado River, and we swung a left on the 1.2-mile spur trail to Plateau Point. And once again, in a matter of two minutes, the scenery changed. We emerged from the trees into a flat desert. For the first time all morning, I felt warm. The sun had just risen above the towering walls we had gazed at while descending the canyon, and it now baked us. I couldn’t be happier. Finally, I could unball my hands inside my gloves, which I finally removed. I even shed my fleece layer. As we walked, I quickly noticed the color of the cacti — purple! I couldn’t believe it. Every few feet, I’d spot another purple prickly pear cactus patch. There was also sage brush as far as the eye could see.
The only negative? Telephone lines that I surmised were connected to Phantom Ranch. It seemed surreal to me to be in such an outdoor wonder and mythical place, and see phone lines! But the scenery was too amazing, the thought of being in such a cathedral too grand (pardon the pun) to let such a thing ruin the experience.
Soon we reached Plateau Point, and it didn’t disappoint. The large, multilayered rocky ledge overlooked the Colorado River at 2,480 feet — only some 1,300 feet below us. I had seen the river before, but from almost 5,000 feet above. This was different. I was amazed at just how narrow it was — maybe 50 feet? We found a rocky ledge and settled down for a well-deserved lunch — and fuel for the climb back up! We had to be aware of our surroundings, though, as a trio of ravens eyed our cheese and crackers. Ravens have been known to scoop up food in one smooth swoop, and we weren’t about to get ours snatched.
We ate two lunches in two spots, admiring not only the scenery around us but just where we were — period. I gazed across the river at the northern cliffs, wondering where the heck the trail went. In half an hour of looking, I had no idea. Finally, after about an hour, it was time to head up. We were emboldened by our experience the day before, but also realized a 6-mile ascent was a much more daunting task.
There’s not too much to say about the ascent except that it was steady, we passed a pack of two mules — and beat them to the top! — and we saw five mule deer just off the trail who weren’t at all perturbed by our presence. We stopped and snapped several photos of them. They were the wildlife highlight of our trip. We also talked briefly with a backpacker heading into the canyon for a week who told us he’d spotted a pair of condors while descending. Sadly, the huge birds didn’t show for us.
We reached the rim by about 3:30pm, completing the hike in less than seven hours. It was an impressive accomplishment, but one that also left us tired, a bit sore, and ready for a big meal. We would get that a couple hours later at the Lumberjack in Flagstaff, where we devoured a large meal and watched the Michigan State-Indiana game.
But my mind often wandered back to the incredible place we’d just left, which, really, is indescribable — even if I tried.
Go to the Grand Canyon when you can. It will undoubtedly be a memorable trip.
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