The day before - Tourist Internationale

Last week me and my Sierra Club friends, Myron, Dorcas, and Tony, went to the Grand Canyon for a 7 day long backpacking trip. We arrived a day early to get our gear together and do all the tourist things. The temperature the first night got down to 29 degrees, which we were not prepared for. On Saturday we went to rim to catch the view. Theodore Roosevelt said that every American should see the Grand Canyon. Apparently everybody took his advice - all on the same day we were there. It wasn't just the Americans, either. English was just another language at this place. Most of the foreigners had mastered three key phrases though. "Where is the bathroom", "where is the water", and "can you take my picture".

We stopped at the Ranger station to inquire about trail conditions. We were informed that the trail we were taking from the rim to the river had been covered in places by rock slides. Oh boy. We were told that the trail was still passable. Not being a group to limit ourselves to the donkey trails, we sucked up some courage and went for it. The ranger also told us that all of the streams along a 11 mile stretch of trail were dry. Unfortunately, our second campsite was located along this stretch. To do our hike, we'd have to carry enough water from Monument creek to last the better part of two days and a night.

Day 1 - Defying Gravity

Sunday we took the Shuttle bus out to the end of West Rim drive. We hit the trail a little before 9AM, lugging packs ranging from 50-70 pounds. We started our 3800' descent on the Hermit trail, which was composed entirely of loose rocks. Great big loose rocks, and tiny little ball-bearing sized rocks that could send one of us to the bottom of Hermit Canyon the fast way. The trail hugged the edge of a deep chasm, where one wrong step could send you into a 2000' free fall. This was no AT, but it was a trail with some character to it. One that will bring you a step or two closer to God. At one point we looked back and couldn't imagine where the trail had passed. All we could see was sheer cliffs in all directions. I know if I had been coming the other way and seen that ahead, my legs would have been shaking.

By mid-day mother nature had turned the ovens on. Then we hit the biggest rock slide. It happened right through a set of switchbacks, so we had climb right down the side of the rock slide. We all took it slow, and everyone made it through. With the footing the way it was, we were moving real slow all day. Also the views were so distracting, we were stopping every third step to take it all in. We finally reached our campsite around 5:30. It had taken us 9 hours to go 8 miles from the rim. Although it had been slow, we were just grateful to have made it.

Day 2 - Beach

On Monday we left the comforts of Hermit creek canyon and headed out into the desert. We hiked along the Tonto plateau, which is essentially the rim of the inner canyon, above the Colorado River. The Buttes and Mesas of the Grand Canyon were all around us. We couldn't believe how alive the desert was. Far from the Sahara, it was full of lizards, mice, birds, and a wide variety of plants and cacti. The prickly pear cactus were in bloom, too. As I look back now, hiking along the Tonto was probably the highlight of the trip for me.

We reached Monument creek around noon. As we looked down into the canyon from above, all we could see was rock, dirt, and dust. Since this was the water source that was supposed to get us through the next day and a half, we were just a bit concerned. We got to the creek bottom and found it dry. Luckily though, after some investigation, we found water flowing a short distance upstream. Apparently Monument creek goes underground in places. We were certainly relieved. We could have gotten our water at the River, but we didn't want to haul it all the way back from there. Plus, we would have drunken a lot of the precious fluid just getting back to this point.

We did hike down the creek bed to see the river for the first time. We came out on a beach just above Granite Rapids, which is one of the largest rapids through the entire canyon. We spent the next few hours vigorously lounging about the beach, working on our tans. I imagine this particular beach was just about the least crowded beach in the country on this Memorial day. No biker gangs here. There was one other group at the far end of the beach, but they were almost out of sight.

I did manage to swim in the 45 degree river for a full 2 minutes - I went in four times for 30 seconds each. We also got the thrill of seeing several rafts run Granite rapids. Unfortunately, the rafts were 20 person, motorized yachts, which pretty well took the sport out of it.

That afternoon we filled every container we had that could hold water and headed back out into the desert. Our waterless trek was about to begin. We camped a couple of miles past Monument creek, at Cedar Spring. I explored down the canyon from the spring and I did find several pools of green, stagnant water. Not very appealing, but drinkable in an emergency. I came to the lip of the canyon, where it fell several hundred feet toward the river below. It was an incredible spot. If the spring had been flowing, it would have made an outstanding waterfall. We stayed there until the bats started coming out.

Since it had been pretty warm at night down in the canyon, I decided to forgo the tent and sleep out under the stars. I didn't get in my sleeping bag until a lizard ran right across my chest. I fell asleep under the most star filled sky I have ever seen. My dreams were restless though, with thoughts of scorpions and rattlesnakes crawling into my sleeping bag.

Day 3 - Don't Drink The Water

We started hiking at 5AM on Tuesday, hoping to make it to our next water before the heat got unbearable. We hiked back out across the Tonto. We stopped at one cliff, where several miles of the river was stretched out 1000 feet below us. The river was a sparkling green, with frothy white in spots indicating huge rapids. We hiked on past Salt Creek and Horn Creek. Both streams had more green, sick looking water. A sign at Horn Creek advised us against drinking. Fortunately, our water held out until we reached Plateau Point, 9 miles from camp. Here we accessed the pipeline that serves Phantom Ranch below. We also came across a major trail coming from the Indian Gardens campground on the Bright Angel Trail. All of a sudden, after 2 days of solitude, people were everywhere.

We had a Siesta at Plateau Point to avoid hiking during the hottest part of the day. By 3pm we packed up and headed toward Phantom Ranch, still another 6 miles away. Fortunately, the rest of the hike was mostly downhill. Eventually we reached the river and stumbled across the bridge into our campsite near Phantom Ranch. After 15 miles of desert hiking, our feet were dead. We recharged with a tremendous spaghetti dinner. Afterwards we headed to the Canteena at Phantom Ranch for a beer. It's not too often that you can pop off for a cold one in the middle of a 60 mile backpacking trip, and we weren't passing up the opportunity. The Canteena offered cans of Bud and Coors - no fancy imports here. But they were only $3 each, which is pretty reasonable considering they are hauled in by the mules. We were in the middle of our second round of beer when we discovered the fascinating effect a 15 mile hike in the sun has on the body's ability to handle alcohol. As we stumbled down the rocky path to our campsite in the dark, I observed that this was easily the most dangerous half mile of hiking on our entire trip.

Day 4 - Rattlesnake

We didn't quite make it out of camp at 5AM for our hike to Clear Creek. It turned out to be closer to 9:30 as we left Phantom Ranch and all of its comforts for 9 miles of hiking across the desert. This proved to be a mistake as the temperature climbed near 100 and the sun beat down on us. The first couple of miles were all uphill. After making about 3 miles, I finished off the water in my 3 quart Pakteen. I only had 5 1/2 quarts to begin with, and we still had 6 miles of afternoon hiking ahead of us. I was ahead of the group, so I found a large rock and sat in its shadow, enjoying the shade. I waited, without touching my water. When the rest of the group arrived, I found Myron to be in a similar situation. From that point on we progressed by moving from one shady spot to the next. Since we were in the desert, they were hard to come by. Soon we were crawling up under every rock overhang we could find.

Back on Sunday, Myron had stumbled within a couple of feet of an irate rattlesnake while exploring off trail. Fortunately, Myron backed off before he got too close. On Monday, Myron came across another hiking out from Hermit Creek. On Tuesday, I was at the head of the group when I came two steps from a rattlesnake sleeping right in the middle of the trail. The snake was pinkish, and looked just like any one of a million rocks nearby. He never rattled, either. Those are certainly the worst kind of rattlesnakes. I'd much rather have an irritable one, that will rattle at anything, in front of me. Today I did. The sound was peculiar, not the way I would have expected it, yet instantly recognizable. The "rattle" was very rapid and loud - it almost sounded like live electricity. It didn't start instantly either - it sort of took a couple of seconds to get fully cranked up. My heart was going a million beats a minute as I scanned the surrounding rocks, without moving. Finally I saw him, at eye level among some rocks just off the trail. I backed off and waited for everyone to warn them. We passed around him, giving him plenty of leeway.

We finally arrived at the top of an 800', sheer descent to our campsite at Clear Creek. After 8 hours of hot hiking, and mere ounces of water to spare, we still had a "Linville Gorge" type descent ahead of us. We eased down the trail, which was less than a foot wide in places, and covered with loose rocks. Off to our right was a barren, sheer slope with nothing to hold on to. We eventually made it to the bottom without incident.

After another night of sleeping out under the stars, I awoke to an exclamation from Myron. He was pointing down at his stove, only about 8 feet from my sleeping bag. I went over to look, and there was a rattlesnake, curled up among some rocks under his stove. Myron had leaned over to adjust his stove, and came eye to eye with our new friend. Our new camp mate wasn't rattling and actually appeared to be asleep. We didn't know what to do with him. We were spending a full day at the campsite, and didn't really have anywhere else to go. Our little buddy didn't seem inclined to move, and I wasn't about to try to encourage him. Finally, we agreed to leave him be as long as he promised to play nice and not crawl into our sleeping bags. He seemed agreeable to this proposition, but we still kept one eye on his nest all day.

Day 5 - Cactus

Thursday proved to be a most eventful "rest day". I should have seen waking next to a rattlesnake as a bad omen. That morning, Myron and I went off-trail, hiking up the canyon in search of a waterfall. Tony elected to do some exploring of his own. That left Dorcas, who was nursing sore feet, to keep the rattlesnake company. We told her to yell if he decided not to play nice.

The canyon we hiked up was more of a jungle than a desert. Since water was flowing through it, all kinds of plants were growing here. It took some intense bushwhacking to make it through. After a 1/2 mile we came across two vulture-like birds - ON THE GROUND. They looked like turkeys at first glance, but were black and waist high. They moved off up the canyon, not disturbed by our following.

We diverted from our waterfall search to explore a side canyon for some thousand year old Indian cliff dwellings I had heard about. I was climbing up through some boulders when I made a huge mistake. When bushwhacking in the Appalachians, you can tear through the vegetation without having to worry about anything worse than a few thorns. You can't be that careless in an environment as hostile as the Grand Canyon. I had one eye on the rocks and the other watching for rattlesnakes when I swung my leg up and impaled it right on a cactus. I looked down in disbelief at the cactus protruding from my leg and immediately went into shock. Blood was pouring down my leg as I staggered to the creek. I pulled two nail-sized spines out of my leg, but one of the barbs broke off inside the wound.

The cactus I tangled with is a Utah Agave, which technically isn't a cactus. It is essentially a ball with dozens of pointed, sword-like protruding spines. All week long we had been bumping against them, scratching ourselves. This, however, was another situation all together. On the bright side, I did finally get to use the first aid kit I 've been hauling around for 4 years. Going into shock had prevented me from actually feeling the pain. But as I walked back to camp, with the barb still in my leg, I didn't have that comfort. I could barely bend my leg. At first this really worried me. We were 20 miles from the nearest road, and visions of rescue helicopters danced in my mind. During the walk back the barb worked itself out (I think) and I was able to move better. I spent the rest of they day sitting in the creek, popping Advil, and keeping an eye on our neighborhood rattlesnake.

By that evening I was able to walk without too much trouble. The night before, our campsite was raided by mice. They had raided my gorp bag, and as evening descended, they were already coming back out. A mischievous idea came into my mind. Our snake, which we named Sleepy, hadn't moved all day. And I thought my day had been worthless. At dusk, I tossed some gorp at the foot of Sleepy's den. We all sat back, waiting for the evening's entertainment. It was only a matter of minutes before a mouse took the bait. He got within a foot of our very own Sleepy, before sensing something was amiss and bolting up the nearest tree. That finally woke Sleepy up. He slithered out of his rock pile and into our campsite. He was nice enough to pose for some pictures before heading out into the evening to hunt. Good luck, Sleepy! We tried to help.

I know, I know, that was pretty weak. Trying to stage a snake feeding for our entertainment. But hey, National Geographic and the Discovery channel all stage their nature shows. Why can't we? Plus, we were hoping to cure our mouse problem and give Sleepy something to keep him busy with all evening. It didn't work out quite as we had hoped.

Day 6 - Oasis

By the next day I was able to move with some difficulty. We hiked back to Phantom Ranch, but left camp by 6AM. What was a difficult hike two days ago in the afternoon heat was a fairly easy walk in the cool morning air. We spotted some kangaroo rats scampering and bouncing by us. We got back to Phantom Ranch by 1pm, so we had the rest of the day to rest on the beach down at the river. I had the ranger there check my leg. He suggested I see a doctor when I got home but didn't think the injury was too serious. That night, we returned to the Canteena. Our second trip to our favorite oasis was pleasant, but didn't quite have the same charm. The Canteena was swarming with a group of people who had just arrived on the mules. Phantom Ranch, did serve a purpose though, sort of a half-way house on the way back to "civilization".

Day 7 - Scent of a Mule

On Saturday, we hiked out the Bright Angel trail with the smelly mules and tourists. (was that smelly mules and smelly tourists, or just smelly mules?) Most of us managed the hike out without getting run down by mules, though Myron did have a tight squeeze. Fortunately, there are several rest stops along the way with water. That, and the well graded trail, took some of the difficulty out of the 4600' climb. My leg was up to about 90%, so I didn't have too much trouble. The biggest challenge was weaving and dodging through the hordes of tourists. Not that I have anything against tourists, exactly, I just wish they knew to yield to someone heading uphill with a 50 pound pack. The tourists all asked the same 3 questions:

1) How heavy is that pack?

2) How long were you down there for?

3) Where is the bathroom, where can I get water, and can you take my picture?

They responded to my answers with a look that said, "I can't believe anyone would actually choose to live out in desert for a week, hauling all that stuff around." They were mostly quite polite though. One woman asked me if she could take my picture. I didn't know I was a celebrity. I didn't tell her that I sign autographs, too. We hiked several miles with two young Swedish ladies. I had many fantasies of a well-deserved massage during that stretch. The poor girls were hiking all the way to the rim in sandals. I felt their pain and gave them some moleskin at Indian Gardens.

The wildlife really came out along here. The night before, I saw a mule-deer near Phantom Ranch. It looked like a large deer with giant ears. Sort of like Bambi doing a Ross Perot impression. Myron, Dorcas, and Tony saw a bighorn sheep on the hike out, and Tony and I saw a whole family of mountain goats. When I got to the rim, I wanted nothing more than a Coke. I was a Coca-Cola endorsement just waiting to happen as a sucked down that soda, but an advertising executive never showed up waving a check.

The Day After - Quiche' or Cereal?

That evening we had showers (75 cents for five minutes) and a giant steak dinner. On the way back to Phoenix, we stopped at Desert View for a spectacular sunset. The painted desert was behind us, and it was lit up in pinks, muaves, and blues. After staying at the Red Roof in Phoenix, we flew home. I noticed on our tickets that breakfast was to be served on the plane. Images of eggs and pancakes danced in my mind. I was one hungry hiker. The stewardess came by. "Quiche' or Cereal", she asked. I hadn't realized that Delta flew non-stop to hell. "What kind of cereal?", I inquired. "Special K". Well now here was a dilemma. Real men don't eat quiche', but do they eat Special K? I was hungry. "I'll have what he's having", I told the stewardess. I'm not going to admit that I had the quiche', nor will I confess that I liked it.

Looking back, I'd have to say this was the greatest backpacking trip I've ever experienced. You can't go to the Grand Canyon, look at the view, and come home fulfilled. You have to get out there to really experience it. If I could do it all over again, I certainly would. Well, all except the part with the cactus. I might change that a little. That and the five rattlesnakes, 5 is way too many for one trip. And my feet were awfully sore, and it was pretty hot, and...............