Thursday, June 7, 2012

42 miles of Grand Canyon in 49 hours


My last hiking trip to Arizona

March is the best time to go to the Grand Canyon, and everyone in Arizona knows it, so March is, consequently not really the best time to go to the Grand Canyon.  Go a week earlier and permits can be had for the asking, campsites are easy and less crowded, and the weather is almost as good.  You may still even catch a few flowers.

The last week of February I headed to the Grand Canyon because it sounded like fun, and it wasn't a mountain.  Its the reciprocal of my usual adventure actually; down down down forever, and then up up up eventually.  I started down at 7:30 am via South Kaibob Trail, hoping I had enough along, because I had been packing still when the bus came, and didn't want to miss it, so I locked my car and bolted and hoped for the best.  The Kaibob was beautiful mostly, though a few weeks from blooming I think.  I saw snow, greenery, wide views, and great collections of differing rock, and also a tour group on horses, whom I snapped a great panorama of, while they took pictures of me, apparently amused by these "backpackers" they had heard so much about.  I probably did not look hot or miserable enough when we got closer together though, to entertain them and encourage them in their opinion that paying to ride a mule was a better life choice.  I complimented the horses and was corrected that they were "mules" by one of the leaders, who seemed to find my error cute.  Hey, they're all horses to me.  I made it to the river in a little over 2 hours, which was pretty impressive I thought, though there were no horses around to compare speed and times with.  The trail is around 10 miles long to Bright Angel, where I dropped a few things and picked the best campsite.  Then I ate quickly and took my lighter pack off for Ribbon Falls on the North side of the river.

Ribbon Falls is 6 miles from the river along the North Kaibob Trail, which was very interesting for 4 miles, and then got hot, exposed, and dull.  It stayed near flat the whole time.  It passes through some beautiful black walled canyons which tower over you on all sides.  I found a side canyon that was cool and wet and dark to explore another time, and made it to the Falls at the heat of the day, having run out of water and feeling ready for it.  I refreshed myself with the icy waters of the falls, purified of course, then began snapping lots of pics of one of my favorite waterfalls to date.  Ribbon Falls is a split stream of water gushing over a sharp cliff, and tumbling and splattering down on a huge, 100 ft tall green egg pyramid of moss.  At the bottom where a little pool forms, there was a "face" cut in which was not quite sized right to fit in one photograph, though I tried.  The falls are in a shaded big wall oasis, much cooler and shadier than the surrounding areas, about 1/2 mile from the North Kaibob Trail.  No one on this day had stopped I think.  I passed a lot of flushed, bright red faces huffing under heavy packs and making for Bright Angel.  So I had the little nook to myself and stayed in the garden over an hour, refreshed and happy I had pressed on.  I got back to camp right around 7 as things were getting dark, and had to eat in the dark, then slept pretty well, though the night was chilly.

I only carried my 1 lb sleeping bag, with a 1 lb liner, and 1 lb bivy sack, rather than a tent.  So I was a little cold and knew the next night I would be in perhaps some trouble.  The night before heading down I camped at the upper rim and that was the coldest night of my life.  There was snow all about, coyotes calling and echoing all around and I could not wait for morning.  I did not expect to be warm enough as it was still the end of winter, but I liked the idea of cold nights better than that of carrying one of the 100 pound packs I saw some people with.  You've never seen so many miserable people as you do hiking the Grand Canyon.  People who are not usual in the habit struggle beneath all the latest "essential" gear which malfunctions more than performs.

Well I was beat next morning, but got myself moving without any breakfast.  I took a handful of granola and headed back along the North Kaibob for my side canyon.  It was 2 miles along and I felt pretty loose by the time I reached its mouth.  I boulder hopped the creek and then had to play on some side walls to keep dry for a few feet.  I followed the creek around some small pretty unimpressive waterfalls into a lush dark canyon few see.  Some light climbing was required, and after a few of these falls, 5 deer and I surprised one another quite suddenly.  We kept to our own sides of the creek, and I eventually moved along, after the deer performed a parade of leaping across the creek before me, one after another.  My camera caught none of it though.  I almost got one deer, but they are fast creatures.  I followed the creek past more falls and canyoneered until I was bored with it, and also when to go on would have required climbing a wet cliff around a bigger fall.  I had done at least 1.5 miles and I did have to go halfway up the canyon that day still.  So I turned back and found my deer again, more relaxed this time, who performed some tricks for me.  I got my feet wet only once when I made a poor leap and slipped one foot in, but my good old trusty orange Wengers stayed mostly dry.  I made quick time back to Bright Angel and was out with my 18 lb load by around 9 am, having lightly snacked.

I took Bright Angel Trail up, which is more popular, more graded, a little better for anyone with a fear of heights, and also, in my opinion, less pleasant.  I got some nice breezes and the trail follows a creek, but at no time do you ever have a wilderness feeling.  There are telephone poles along North Kaibob also, but on Bright Angel they are closer and really never go away.  At least the Park Service made them brown to blend in a little.  I took one detour cutting over to some falls a little way from the trail.  They were worth the stop and I refilled water.  My target was Indian Gardens, a lush little alcove of a campsite on the Tonto Plateau, halfway to the top and bottom of the canyon.  I passed a few dozen people who had a few hours lead on me, but never boogied too hurriedly.  I had time, and I wanted to go one trip without wearing myself out.  Indian Gardens was not quite ripe yet for the year.  That is, it still looked dead, more like fall, than spring, and is probably more beautiful in April and May, but also swarming with pests, otherwise known as other hikers.  Take your poison, you know?  I again snacked leisurely while a herd of small baby deer fed just next to my campsite.  I rested for a bit and took off the shoes.  (I had brown ankle supporting boots for the treks on the steep sections).  Switching to my day fanny pack and my lighter hiking shoes, I headed off for Panorama Point, a 3 mile round trip from Indian Gardens.

Panorama Point is my favorite spot so far in the whole canyon.  Beautiful with expansive views, well worth the name.  It offers the best sunset and sunrise spot probably in the park, at least, the best with a trail right to it.  Another group was there eating dinner and ignoring me, as if to suggest they were superior and had friends in life, while I was a lonely vagabond, so for their "benefit", I put on a little show.  I jumped off a cliff in front of them to give them a little spook, though it was just a 5 foot drop, then climbed a rock tower hanging out into space.  I got a few decent pictures from out there and scared those folks, so both goals were accomplished.  The wind was strong and I got great shadow play a few hours before sunset, and also, the sky was too clear for great photos anyway, so I headed back after a bit and followed the Tonto Trail for awhile.  I saw my baby deer friends again and think if I go back to the Canyon, I will take more of the Tonto.  This is an interesting trail was you can see the river, and the sheer cliffs below you and more above.  The Grand Canyon can be thought of as 3 tiers, or steps.  You have an upper level where the crowds and tour buses are, the Tonto Plateau, 1500 feet below, and then the river level down 1500 feet or so from there.  So on Tonto, its like having mountains above you while being on a mesa.  Quite exhilarating with wide views, but very exposed.  In the hot part of the year, you'll know you're in a desert and you'll need to pack water.  There is none.  You can also take the Tonto Plateau from the North side of the river but for a mere 9 miles.  This goes out to Deer Creek, which can then be followed down stream for 3 miles to the Colorado, or upstream via a nasty advanced bushwack to another falls, which only flows in some years, and for about 2 months per year.  Sounds daunting.  I had planned on that trip for the 2nd day, but skipped it because of a broken toe.  I broke that toe the week before I left playing darts in my room.  I usually get my injuries when doing "safe" activities, actually.  And I stubbed another toe on a jagged rock which nearly broke it even through a shoe the night before.  A wise choice.  So I settled for some of the Tonto, which goes I think 90 miles on the South Rim.  And all of it cactus filled.

The night was cold.  The air cleared and dropped down into the low 30s, and Indian Gardens is cooler than Bright Angel due to elevation anyway.  I slept until about 2 am and then was too cold to sleep.  I threw some hand warmers in my pockets and listened to the Essays of Montaigne, until I dozed a bit.  I got up very early and broke camp without eating before sunup.  There was no one to pass this day.  I made great time until about 2 miles from the South Rim, where ice took over.  This was unexpected after the Kaibob which is more exposed at the top and had no snow and because I was carrying 2 pairs of shoes and had planned on doing over 50 miles, I did not have crampons, or ice cleats.  Nor did I have my ice axe, though I did have 2 trekking poles, which were of limited use.  The going got slow and the tedium and cold of it was relieved only by Japanese tourists, most of them silly girls, going down the trail on flip flops and dress shoes, mostly on their bellies or backs.  They may still be down there.  I had little hope they would get back up the trail later as dressed.  A ranger was going down, not throwing salt, and thus, being useless.  After passing him I took one hard fall that I knew I was going to take on a particularly steep and bald patch of ice.  I hit my shoulder hard, and slid down on my back rapidly for about 50 feet, head first, then self arrested myself by digging in with fingers, after realizing as I tried to dig in my ice axe instinctively, that I did not have it with me.  So I laid there for a little moaning, all four limbs sprawled out, then picked myself up, sniffling from cold, and made another attempt at the bad spot, which was on the trail at a narrow point and could not be avoided.  I zigged and zagged carefully and made it the second time, then limped the last mile out of the canyon.  I was on a bus heading back to my car by 9 am, and totalled 42 miles in a hair over 49 hours.  Not too bad.  I mostly enjoyed it.  Still, I hate the South Rim and didn't linger.  I drove off filthy and tired without even eating, and ate while I drove.  I went without stopping to Phoenix, where I passed a day pleasantly enough in unseasonable warmth waiting for a friend to get done with work at a fine art museum and the library.  I have a few pics here, but run over to thestillwildwest.com for more under my Arizona gallery, or contact me about a Grand Canyon panorama, or my Aint It Grand poster with 26 fine photos from the trip.

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