Winter in the Grand Canyon
January 2013
Submitted by Pat
This trip to the Canyon spent a long time in the planning stages, first cancelled in 2012, then rescheduled for 2013. This is to be a healing trip – Nancy and my last trip to the Canyon in 2010 was especially stressful and we both returned home stricken and angry, with lots of pain lingering in the corners of our hearts. In 2011 Nancy rafted down the Canyon on her own, needing time to experience for the first time what it was like to go somewhere and do something without having to take care of anyone but herself. In 2012 neither of us visited the Canyon so this 2013 trip in winter is especially welcome. I started a new job in November, and despite knowing we will be leaving at the end of January, I focused on learning my job responsibilities and less so on looking forward to our Canyon trip. In my heart I was going as much for myself as to do what I could to heal any lingering anger between Nancy and me.
For weeks before we leave on our trip to the Grand Canyon, I hardly think about it, don’t plan what to pack or research places to go and things to see. I stay very present in my day to day work, my home, the goats and horse, the dogs and cats, the ducks and chickens, connecting with a new friend, and reconnecting with an old one. So when the time comes I’m not prepared and it takes a lot of energy to pack and unpack and repack and unpack and repack again, before finally zipping the suitcase shut for the last time. Talking to Nancy on the phone the night before we leave she tells me she’s packed and unpacked and repacked her bag 3 times. Enough is enough. I guess that’s the fun of it because we laugh and enjoy our shared experience. I definitely pack light, maybe too light. I have enough hiking clothes and gear, but not enough going out to dinner and being a tourist clothes.
The alarm wakes me at 3:45 am after a restless night. The dogs don’t even move as I dress and hurry downstairs to make coffee and load the car. In the early morning dark I drive to pick up Nancy at our appointed 4:30 time and together we begin the drive to Bradley International Airport in Hartford. I’m in some discomfort from a stiff neck that I woke up with. Nothing seems to ease the pain and looking over my shoulder when I change lanes on the highway is not pleasant. I take some ibuprofen and ignore it for now.
We arrive, park the car at LAZFly, take the shuttle to the airport, check our bags (Nancy’s is a pound and a half over the 50-lb limit and mine only weighs 39 lbs so we put some of her stuff in my bag), go through security, eat some breakfast and wait for the flight to be called. The flight to Charlotte, NC is uneventful. I sleep and read. The leg from Charlotte to Phoenix is long and my stiff neck becomes even stiffer just sitting there with little room to move or stretch. I read while Nancy talks with a retired LA policeman. Turns out he’s one of the people who created the D.A.R.E. program. He’s a really nice guy and interesting to listen to.
We play word games on my iPad, read some more, sleep and wait until we finally fly over the desert and land at Sky Harbor International Airport in Phoenix, Arizona. It looks so different from New England. All grey and brown and red and dusty looking. Temps are in the 60’s when we get off the plane. We pick up our rental car, a cheery red RAV 4 and head north on I 17. Nice to have the window open, but my body is freaking out from all the temperature shifts, clothes on, clothes off, sweating, not sweating, back and forth, maybe a little menopausal flashing thrown in. This pattern of hot and cold will continue to play out for the rest of the trip.
Straight up Rte. 17 we drive. The weather is clear and warm, wispy with clouds. In no time we are away from Phoenix and in the northern suburbs. We pull over onto the Carefree Highway (remember that Gordon Lightfoot song?) and stop at a convenience store for a cold drink. I’m driving our rental car, and being a RAV there’s no getting used to it. I just get in and drive. Up through Saguaro cactus country, over one mountain range, then flat empty desert and over another mountain range to a flat desert mesa. We take the Sedona exit on Rte. 179 and travel the scenic route to enter Sedona from the south. As we get closer, the drive consists of a series of roundabouts every mile or so. At the 8th roundabout we see our hotel – The King’s Ransom – and check in. The room is nothing to write home about, but the place looked good on the web.
On our way downtown to find a restaurant, we stop twice and take pictures of the red rock buttes that surround Sedona. The evening light is perfect and we’re happy and excited about seeing this incredible beauty and being in the west again. We park downtown and look for a restaurant. We’re both hankering for Mexican food and we find one almost immediately. It’s called Taos Cantina, now called the 89 Agave Cantina. Service is OK, food OK and a lot of it, and by the end of the meal I’m starting to feel the need for sleep. We drive back to the hotel and I immediately get into my jams. I’m asleep shortly thereafter. Nancy swears it was only 7 o’clock when she turns the light out. I swear it was 9 o’clock and from there we agree to disagree.
Our “free” continental breakfast the next morning is a disappointment, but I eat a couple of waffles and Nancy eats some yogurt before we head out to find a Starbucks where she buys her beloved Chai Latte and me my regular latte. Yum, coffee with a pulse. We aren’t sure what to do next and end up haphazardly looking for a masseuse who can work on my neck. The first place we find that advertises psychic readings and massage is closed. Nancy wants a psychic reading. I’ve never been tempted, but can see that she really wants the experience so I encourage her to make it happen. We land at a tourist information place where a really nice guy suggests a psychic for Nancy and a spa for me. He even calls and makes an appointment for me for 10 am at the Sedona New Day Spa.
We drive to the spa and go into the lobby to check in. The receptionist greets us warmly and shows us the waiting room complete with comfortable furniture, soft music, water with lemon slices and another with cucumber slices in it. All sorts of biscotti, nuts and dried fruits presented beautifully are laid out for the spa customer. She shows us the changing area and the steam bath. Nancy decides to go for a walk, see if she can find that psychic, while I surprise myself, strip off my clothes, and with a bathrobe in hand, step into the steam bath. Hot steam massages my tight muscles. The sweat has just started to roll when the masseuse comes by looking for me. Quickly I put on my robe and join her. She leads me to a softly lit room and asks me to sit. New age music plays through hidden speakers. She asks me what massage oil scent I prefer. I smell the first one, nice but too flowery, but the next is perfect – desert dry and lavender sweet. I start face down and my massage person, Kaitya, begins her head/neck massage protocol. Her ministrations feels great and she says I am very tight. It helps dull some of the sharper pain and I feel better when Nancy rejoins me and we head to downtown Sedona to find a sandwich place that was recommended to her called Sedona Memories.
It turns out to be a small cafe on Jordan Road, next to a beauty parlor/spa and the Pink Jeep Tour place. We order a couple of sandwiches and walk around town for a while. Nancy sees a pottery plate of deep brown red that she falls in love with and buys it, making arrangements for it to be shipped to her home in NH. I enjoy being around spontaneity like that. I’m not usually that free…
We pick up our sandwiches – huge 4″ inch high sandwiches filled with all sorts of good tastes – and head up Rte 89 which meets up with I 17 and then I 40. We head east on I 40 toward Winslow, AZ – standing on a corner in Winslow, Arizona, such a fine sight to see, It’s a girl, my lord, in a flatbed Ford, strolling down to take a look at me (~Jackson Browne). Nancy wants to see the meteor crater, the largest and best preserved meteor crater in the world, so we drive out to the middle of nowhere until we find it. Privately owned, it cost $16 each to get in to the building that houses restrooms, a snack bar, a couple of gift stores, a museum and a movie theater. We watch the movie and walk out disappointed. We both want more. As we leave the theater we are met by a man who turns out to be a tour guide who is drumming up business for the next tour. He’s humorous and personable and though I don’t quite have enough warm clothes on I figure I’ll be OK so we go on the one hour tour. This is the only way to really walk along the rim and see the crater. Meteor Crater is nearly one mile across, 2.4 miles in circumference and more than 550 feet deep.
A little history:
Approximately 50,000 years ago, on a continuous plain extending for miles in the high desert plateau of Northern Arizona, out of the northeastern sky, a pinpoint of light grew rapidly into a brilliant fireball. This body was probably broken off from an asteroid during an ancient collision in the main asteroid belt (between the planets, Mars and Jupiter) some half billion years ago. Hurtling about 26,000 miles per hour, it was on a rendezvous course with earth. In seconds, it passed through the earth’s atmosphere with little loss of velocity or mass.
In a blinding flash, a huge iron-nickel meteorite or dense cluster of meteorites, estimated to have been about 150 feet across and weighing several hundred thousand tons, struck the rocky plain with an explosive force greater than twenty million tons of TNT. Traveling at supersonic speed, this impact generated immensely powerful shock waves in the meteorite, the rock and the surrounding atmosphere.
In the air, shock waves swept across the level plain devastating all in the meteor’s path for a radius of several miles. In the ground, as the meteorite penetrated the rocky plain, pressures rose to over twenty million pounds per square inch, and both iron and rock experienced limited vaporization and extensive melting. Beyond the affected region, an enormous volume of rock underwent complete fragmentation and ejection.
Our guide, whose name is Eduardo, actually lives and works right there at the crater. Many employees have apartments adjacent to the visitor center. Eduardo is a sweet man, self-deprecating, and he knows his stuff. As we walk along the rim he talks about the crater, its history. He talks about the desert flora and fauna and takes each person’s picture overlooking the crater before turning us back. He actually learns every one of our names, all 8 of us, which adds to his tour guide mystique. When we return to the car, we’re cold and hungry and it’s 2 o’clock in the afternoon so we pull out our sandwiches and eat. Huge, delicious sandwiches. I can only eat half of mine. I decide to save the other half for later.
Back on I 40 I decide that since the temperature is falling and it has started to rain that we should head west on I 40 and then turn right on I 64 toward Canyon Village and the south rim, rather than go the scenic route up Rt. 89 and over on Rt. 64. The drive is relatively stressful because of all the big trucks and the rain, but becomes easier as we head up Rt. 64. We reach the National Park entrance, pay our fee and head to the Bright Angel Lodge to check in. The Canyon is awash in cloud and fog. We can hardly see each other, let alone any of the Canyon. Our little room in the Buckey Lodge has a double and a single bed, and our own bathroom, complete with a claw footed old-style tub.
On our way to dinner, we spot a couple of hikers, a young man and woman, who have just come up the Bright Angel trail and are exhausted. We ask them about conditions on the trail and on the bottom and then offer them a ride to their car which is parked at the Visitors Center. They pile in the RAV and we make our way to the Visitor’s Center. Very hard to see in the fog and roads are poorly marked, but we finally get there. Hiker magic.
When we return to the lodge we eat dinner – Nancy has a salad and I have corn chowder and a salad – at the Bright Angel Cafe before heading back to our room. We get into our jams around 9 o’clock and talk. Nancy has downloaded a new white noise app on her iPhone and we choose “CITY” as our night time background noise. Talking with Nancy doesn’t last long. In the lull of a silent moment she’s gone, breathing deeply, sound asleep. I lie awake for a long time, unable to find the door to sleep. I’m sure I do sleep, but it feels like I wake every hour, listening to the loop of the city noises play through my head.
The next morning we’re up by 7:00 am and off to breakfast at the Bright Angel Cafe where we are waited on by Errol, a man from Jamaica. The employees of the Xanterra group that runs the hotels and concessions on the Canyon rim have name tags with their first name and their state or country on them. Kind of fun to see where folks are from. Errol speaks with a slow, low, lilting voice and is very attentive to our every need. He’s sweet although maybe a bit over the top with his obsequiousness. After breakfast we walk to the Canyon rim and see…nothing. Fog and clouds and cold. No rain. We get into the car and start driving and see that the rim road out to Hermit’s Rest, which is closed to cars during the summer season, is open so we head down. Almost immediately we see two large animals appear from the fog along the road. A couple of elk, female, a big one and a little one, with their funky buff colored rear ends. They move off the road to browse with the rest of their herd and we drive on.
We stop once but there’s no view so we keep on driving. We stop again at Mohave Point and holy moly we finally see a couple of peaks of sun shining through the multiple layers of clouds. The high clouds are dissipating and the banks of clouds inside the maw of the Canyon are breaking up, moving and changing, showing us incredible glimpses of the walls and gorges, isolated temples of limestone cliffs, even a glimpse of the river. Stunning, beautiful, tantalizing, and the sun just keeps on coming despite the forecast for more showers.
We drive all the way out to Hermit’s Rest, turn around, and head back to the Village. We spend some time ogling the Native American jewelry in the Hopi House, designed by Mary Colter and built in 1905. An amazing building full of nooks and crannies, soothing native flute music, and smells, lots of unique, delicious, and unrecognizable smells. Next we walk up to Verkamps Visitor Center where Nancy speaks with a ranger about trail conditions and weather and I look at old pictures and browse through books.
Back in the car we decide we have just enough time to drive out to Desert View and be back for our 6 pm dinner reservation at the El Tovar. We see a lot of old, rotten snow from the last storm. It’s melting with the warmer temperatures we have encountered when we arrived. The Desert View watchtower, a 70-foot tall building also designed by Mary Colter and built in 1935, stands at the east end of the Canyon over 20 miles from the South Rim Village. We check out the General Store, the Snack Bar and Gift shop and do a tour to the top of the tower itself, walking on skinny narrow staircases surrounded by cold unheated stone and incredible views. The observation deck is open, which we have never seen, so we step out and find these wooden boxes built into the ramparts and when I look over the edge into them I can see a clear reflection of the canyon displayed back to me from the black mirror installed in them, albeit the image is upside down.
Regretfully we start back to the Village. We make it in time for both of us to take showers. I go to the lobby where I can get Wi-Fi connectivity on my iPad while Nancy showers. When I return to the room she meets me with doleful eyes, saying she has bad news about the shower. All she can get was a trickle of water for her shower and ends up on her hands and knees to rinse her hair under the tub faucet. I’m surprised but head in without much concern. The image of Nancy on her hands and knees rinsing her hair cracks me up. When I get in, I adjust the water temperature with the tub faucet on. When the temp is right, I turn off the tub and turn on the shower and voila a great shower for me. But every so often I laugh out loud at the image of Nancy on her hands and knees rinsing her hair under the tub faucet. We get a lot of mileage out of that one.
Dinner is delicious onion soup with melted Swiss cheese covering it and a salad. Perfect! No desert…haven’t done anything to earn it. Back in our room, we settle down and packe for tomorrow’s hike down to Phantom Ranch. When we’re ready, we set Nancy’s iPhone for 6 am and go to sleep to CITY background white noise.
The next day, I wake up feeling like I hadn’t slept at all, but I must have because the alarm wakes me up. It’s nice and warm in my bed and outside it’s grey and dripping, threatening rain. But we get up, store our luggage in the bellman’s closet, eat breakfast, check out and shoulder our heavy backpacks as we walk down to catch the 8 o’clock hiker’s express shuttle to the South Kaibab trailhead. We meet a young couple who say they are walking down the South Kaibab trail to the Tonto Trail, across, and up Bright Angel Trail. They have water and little else. The guy has on jeans and they both have on light shoes. Almost as soon as we get on the bus it starts to rain. Our young companions head straight for the shelter of the restrooms and we never see them again. If they’re smart they will head back to the village for a hot drink and a fire. Nancy and I look at each other and shrug. No help for it. When we arrive at the trailhead it’s windy and cold and pelting us with rain. We immediately take out and put on rain gear – parkas and rain pants as well as our microspikes. The trail is slushy with ice and mud as we start out, smiling and game, but not without a little anxiety. What if it rains all day?
At an elevation of 7,260 feet, we start down the South Kaibab Trail at 8:38 am, unarguably the most beautiful corridor trail in the Canyon. Down and down the red rock switchbacks, then onto a short span of longer switchbacks that traverses along the canyon wall eventually dropping us onto a ridge. Our first landmark at Ooh Ahh Point comes at .9 miles. Would have been a nice view in pleasant weather. Not much to see today but fog and clouds and rain. Nancy takes pictures with her waterproof camera. I keep mine in its plastic bag the whole day.
I’m feeling good, outside of the rain; my feet are still semi-dry, my legs feel strong and I’m in a solid, happy emotional place. Talking with Nancy is hard because we both have our hoods up and we can’t hear each other unless we’re standing face to face. So it’s a quiet first hour or two. At 1.5 miles we hit Cedar Ridge and make use of the compost toilets to pee and get out of the rain for a few minutes. We’re both a little chilled but climbing down is building up enough heat to keep us relatively warm. Soon afterward I start to feel some pain on the outside of my right knee. I think it’s from walking on slanted ground and trying to keep my feet dry and out of the bigger puddles. The pain comes and goes at first and I’m able to let it go and press on.
Around 10:30, we meet the first of several hikers who are climbing out from Phantom Ranch. This couple must have been in their late 60’s, early 70’s, and are making great time. They left after the 5 am breakfast and are almost to Cedar Ridge. Very impressive. They stop and talk for a few minutes before moving on. It’s fun to meet them. The next couple we meet, an older gentleman and lady companion, we meet maybe a half hour later. He’s something, upbeat, full of joy, and as we part he says something like We are right where we’re supposed to be. We are blessed. Tears slide into Nancy’s eyes and we walk on feeling on top of the world, despite the wet that’s seeping through the water resistance of our parkas to chill our skin. I thought my jacket was waterproof. It’s not.
As we descend we meet a couple of other people coming up, part of a large group that schedules an activity every winter. I’m impressed. Some members of the group don’t look particularly fit, but they’re slogging up and are going to make it. The ridge walk between Cedar Ridge and Skeleton Point at 3 miles is exposed and astoundingly beautiful, the easiest part of the trail and we enjoy it while we can. The red puddles in the trail are deeper and bigger and push us off the trail at times. I’m losing the battle to keep my feet dry and the pain in my knee is getting worse. It’s hard to ignore it and I finally tell Nancy that I’m hurting. I take some ibuprofen and try to keep my feet flat by walking right through the main part of the river of water pouring down the trail. Maybe the pain will stop or lessen if I walk on flatter ground.
Past Skeleton Point is a wickedly steep section of switchbacks, great views to the east, which we can’t see because we’re mostly trudging with our heads down, drawn into our hoods, silent, each of us alone with our thoughts and feelings. We finally reach the Tonto Plateau and the last outhouse on the trail. We take advantage of the toilets and pull our clothes back together. Both of us are soaked through, hands, feet, heads, legs, body drenched. From this point, called the Tip Off, the trail drops over 1,000 feet in 2.6 miles in a series of steep, precarious switchbacks. Usually it’s my favorite part of the trail. I love seeing the river and heading into the inner gorge, but on this day I’m hurting. I passed the point of being able to ignore the pain in my knee and begin limping, trying to find a way to walk where it doesn’t hurt, and failing. So for me the last couple of miles are tough. Panorama Point, Nancy’s favorite spot, doesn’t even look like Panorama Point – it looks shorter, stubbier, like the tip has fallen off. We don’t stay long. We’re too wet and miserable, but we manage to revive enough to find the wonder in that awesome view. It’s still raining but we’re finally below the clouds. The river is brownish green and all the buildings at Phantom Ranch are clearly seen through leafless trees.
Nancy is sorry that I’m in pain, generous with her compassion, and stays centered in herself. No reason to let her experience be undermined by mine. I’m feeling pretty anxious as we arrive at the Black Bridge. I’m future-thinking about my knee – will it be OK by tomorrow, will I make it out, will the pain be as bad going up? Not much I can do right then so I try to push it out of my mind and enjoy the walk to Phantom Ranch. We pass some Mule Deer grazing along the path. They’re tame and unafraid, and we don’t approach or feed them. When we arrive at the Canteen we’re greeted by one of the staff people who opens the door for us and immediately pours us a hot chocolate while we check in.
Nancy and I have reserved bunks in one of the women’s dorms – a small cabin with five sets of bunk beds sleeping 10 people, with a sink, a shower, and a toilet. We’re the first to arrive and the reservation book says there are three more women coming. After checking in, we make it known that we would love to upgrade to a cabin if one comes empty. Our names are taken and put on a list, but for tonight it’s the dorm. We’re able to wrangle a couple of ponchos from the canteen staff, since our rain gear is soaked, and some twine to use as a clothesline. Everyone is so nice and helpful.
We choose the bunks furthest from the door and closest to the toilet. We take off our sodden clothing and hang it on our makeshift clothesline to dry. We only have the shoes we’re wearing so they stay on. Dry clothes feel great and we put on our ponchos and slosh back through the rain to the canteen that will remain open for another hour or so. We set ourselves up with another hot drink in a corner of the room and notice that they have replaced the dining chairs. The old ones were made of some kind of caning, wide, almost like cat gut, and drooped in the middle so the sides of your butt were cut by the inside edge of the chair and made for very uncomfortable seating. I’m happy to see a solid chair when I ease my sore body onto it. Except for my knee, which feels fine when I’m using it, I feel pretty good, tired but not yet sore. I know that will come later.
We play rummy and talk until they kick us out to prepare for dinner. We walk back to the dorm and meet our roommates, a woman in her late 30s or early 40s who is part of a group bringing 11 young girls down to Phantom Ranch and hiking out tomorrow. The other two are young women, friends, who are also hiking out tomorrow. We’re the only ones staying two nights. Dinner for us is at 5 pm. We arrive exactly at 5 pm and everyone is already seated and digging in family style. We have steaks, baked potatoes, peas, corn, cornbread, and salad. And for desert, cold chocolate cake. A tasty repast after a long day. The cake looks delicious but tastes boring. I eat mine anyway and Nancy abstains. Back in the dorm, we lie on her bunk, heads at opposite ends of the bed, legs at opposite ends, and talk. It’s an interesting conversation and of course I have forgotten it completely. We talk for a couple of hours until our bunk mates come in and everyone settles into reading or writing or talking softly.
When the lights go out it is a long time before I fall asleep. Nancy is gone well before I am. I just can’t shut down despite how tired I am. Strange surroundings, uncomfortable pillow, and a warm room make for difficult sleeping. But I know I sleep because the 5 am wake up knock wakes me. So nice though to lie in bed until 6:50 when the breakfast gong rings, summoning us to the canteen for the late breakfast. Breakfasts at Phantom Ranch are always the same – scrambled eggs, bacon, pancakes, juice and coffee. The coffee tastes terrible, and I drink it anyway. We’re told that our request to upgrade to a cabin has been granted and to bring our stuff to the canteen until it’s to be ready around noon.
My knee is better, although I can feel it whenever I step down. My calves and quads are majorly sore and stiff, but it feels better to get up and move. Once I ‘m moving I’m OK, but getting up and starting to move is painful. We decide to do the river walk after breakfast so we grab cameras and water and begin walking toward the river. Nancy tries to call Don (her husband) on the pay phone located near the rest room down by the river, but the receiver is broken in half and held together by wires. She hears a dial tone, which is more than she heard at the pay phone at the Ranch, but when Don answers, she can hear him but he can’t hear her. Very frustrating for them, but he gets it, said if this is Nancy I know you’re trying to get in touch and you’re OK. That helps brighten Nancy’s sad mood.
We start off on the Bright Angel Trail and pass over the silver bridge. The silver bridge was built in the 60’s for hikers to access the Bright Angel Trail. It also became the bearer of water as the transcanyon water pipeline hangs below the metal walkway. Water from Roaring Springs travels via a pipeline down to Phantom Ranch and all the way up to the tourist area on the south rim. Water is an extremely precious commodity.
The trail turns left at the end of the bridge and starts to climb. I barely feel my knee going up but going down is another matter and my pace slows way down. But we are moving slowly anyway, taking pictures and looking at the river now flowing brown caused by runoff from yesterday’s rain. We stop at the beach where the raft trips stop for water. Some trips actually start and end there for some people. We sit for a while and watch the river flow.
On the walk back to the Ranch we meet a couple of young men wearing waders and carrying buckets and other equipment and we ask what they’re doing and one responds with glee, “We’re going to check the weir!” The what? The weir? They invite us to come with them so we do. The Bright Angel Creek is flowing fast and hard from the rains and they’re checking the fish weir that they’re responsible for managing. Turns out the brown and rainbow trout that are prevalent in the Colorado River are spawning up creeks and they are very aggressive, nasty fish. The trout has all but extinguished the Humpback Chub. I didn’t know trout were such predators, but they are. They will even eat each other. Anyway, these two young scientists are clearing debris from around the weir, seeing if any trout have been caught and seeing if the water pressure is low enough to stand the weir back upright after fast water forced them to lay it down yesterday. The purpose of the weir is to catch trout and /or keep trout from swimming up creek and spawning. They say the Chub are slowly starting to come back, but it’s going to be a long fight. They’re young, handsome young men, enthusiastic, well spoken and keep us entertained for the half hour we spend with them.
Back at the Ranch we move our stuff into cabin 4 – two sets of bunk beds and a little tiny room with a toilet in it. Only problem is the water pipeline up at Cottonwood Campground has broken, shifting earth under the pipe from all the rain and the pipe burst. No showers for anyone and we have to use water buckets full of creek water to flush the toilet. Potable drinking water for hikers is available from their cistern. Not much of an imposition. I’ve been without a shower before.
After we move in we walk up the North Kaibab Trail and then up the Clear Creek Trail. What a great trail! We have incredible views, in and out of sun, with occasional spates of rain. I’m still tired and my legs hurt but I feel no knee pain going up. That gives me hope for tomorrow’s climb out of the Canyon. It’s a beautiful walk. I so badly want to get up to the plateau but know I don’t have the legs for that so we turn around after 2 miles or so and head back to Phantom Ranch. There we buy a lemmy – fresh, cold, delicious lemonade. With our lemmy’s in hand and some raisins for a snack we walk out by Bright Angel Creek and sit on a bench to watch the afternoon unfold. We heard a Canyon Wren call – I wonder if they are migratory birds. Apparently not. I love their sound.
Several men on the 25th year of their annual fishing trip stop by to talk and offer freshly filleted trout, but we decline. Then suddenly the sky to the north darkens and the sun comes out above us and it starts to rain. The result is two incredible rainbows spanning the Canyon behind us. Nancy takes pictures and so does one of the fishermen. Other members of the group come and go, looking at the rainbow. Word gets around and people come from everywhere to check it out. One rainbow is a double and it even has two ribs of purple. I don’t think I have ever seen a purple band in a rainbow. Nancy has predicted it and they are magnificent.
To kill some time, we walk down to check the weir. I get halfway there when I realize that I have to use the toilet, immediately, so I tell Nancy to wait for me and head back. Oh my god, I almost don’t make it. Close call. But I make it. Then comes the flushing part. I push down the handle and nothing happens. Oh holy shit, the toilet’s backed up or broken and it’s my poop that’s causing it. I walk back to find Nancy and we talk to the guys at the weir for a while. Such nice guys. Then we walk back and I tell Nancy what has happened to the toilet and that I have to figure out how to deal with it. As we near the Canteen I see a woman leave a full bucket of water in the women’s restroom and call out to her. I ask her how the flushing works and she explains that gravity or something makes the toilets flush but not until you pour a couple of gallons of water in them first. Oh, thank god. It’s something we can deal with. My anxiety level over having to call a maintenance man to deal with my mess evaporates as we walk back. I fill the toilet with a big bucket of water and part of it flushes. I refill the bucket and repeat and this time most of it flushes. Back for another refill – this time the mess disappears. Man, it’s the little things. I’m so glad I asked that woman rather than approaching a staff person who I feared would have to come to our cabin to take a look.
After that adventure we lie down for a while and talk until dinner. Late dinner starts at 6:30 pm and consists of beef stew, cornbread and salad and the same cold dry chocolate cake for dessert. I eat mine and Nancy’s. I have such a strong hankering for chocolate I’ll even eat bad cake. We return to our cabin and pack our bags for our hike out the next day. Nothing to do but get into our sleep clothes, get under the covers and talk with the light out. I hope for a better sleep and I get it. Still lots of wakeful moments, especially when the rain starts again during the night and I hear it pelting on the cabin roof. My last waking thought is I hope the rain gets all this nonsense out of its system tonight and spares us tomorrow.
Once again we attend the 7:00 am breakfast, and I eat well, knowing we’re going to be burning some major calories on the climb out. We are on the trail by 7:45 am, packs heavy and quads and calves wicked sore. Nancy also has sore calves to deal with, but her quads are OK. By the time we cross the black bridge we’re ready to stop and take off some layers. I strip down to a thin, long sleeved Techwik shirt and unzip the legs of my pants and tuck them into my gaiters. I look pretty silly in shorts and gaiters, but it’s comfortable and that’s what counts. The climb up to the Tip Off is OK for both of us. No rain, some hiker friends are coming up behind us, lots of puddles from last night’s rain, and lots of picture taking. It has snowed overnight at around 5-6,000 feet and the Canyon looks beautiful in snow. Exactly what we wanted to see and here it is before us under the glory of the sun mixed with dark threatening clouds that scuds across the sky.
By the time we reach the outhouse on the Tonto Plateau, I realize I’m not bothered by the knee pain. All I have to contend with is sore calves and quads and a measure of tiredness. Unfortunately that tiredness increases exponentially the higher we climb. The switchback section below Skeleton Point is a killer and I really slow down. I start breathing heavily and don’t recover when we rest as quickly as I usually do. I start off again after a rest still breathing hard. Then the clouds thicken and the wind grows brisk and it starts to snow. I zip up my pants, put on a thicker shirt and some gloves and keep on going. At first it’s round pellets of snow. My head is covered with them since I don’t wear a hat. I use my bare head to keep me from overheating in winter. Since it’s snowing I put away my camera and Nancy is the sole picture taker for the rest of the hike out.
The snow thickens and begins to cover the trail, at first melting and turning red as it hits the puddles. I slog through, forcing myself to stand up straighter so I can breathe and so my pack won’t feel like it’s weighing me down. I finally tell Nancy I’m having a tough time, that I’m exhausted and unable to catch my breath. She’s supportive but there isn’t much she can do except cheer me on, and that she does. We trudge on. We reach Cedar Ridge and knowing we only have a mile and a half left gives me hope and at the same time I feel like I’m ready to sit down in the snow and stop moving. My breathing has become an asthma attack. I can’t get enough oxygen, I’m running out of gas and my body is exhausted. I’ve hit the wall. But none of that matters. I still have to get myself out of the Canyon. So, on we go. Nancy takes some incredible snow pictures while I keep my eyes focused on where to put my feet. Lifting my legs over waterbars is excruciating. My legs feel thick and heavy and sore and all I can do is put one foot in front of the other and take heart when Nancy cheers me on. As we approach the last switchbacks we meet some hikers going down, some just part way, some all the way, and some only a few more feet. We meet the biologist on his way down to relieve the two young men, brothers it turns out, who are managing the weir. Nine days in then out again. We send our regards to the young men in hopes they will remember us. They had been so engaging and kind.
A mule supply train passes us and digs the hell out of the trail. Big rock size pieces of icy mud drop off their hooves as they walk by. The beautiful white snow turns into a red gloppy mess after they pass. We hit the last switchbacks and I’m moving really slowly, Nancy behind me taking pictures and cheering me on. We peek our heads over the edge of the rim and know we’ve made it, exhausted, cold, and we’ve made it. We do the Canyon shuffle down to the shuttle bus stop and put on warmer clothes while we wait for the bus. Luckily we don’t have to wait long. I can barely step onto the bus. The driver is kind enough to lower the bus so I can get on without embarrassing myself. I am so tired of carrying that pack. I feel like a beast of burden and all I have in it was clothes, every stitch worn at least once during our stay in Canyon and the rest of my water. But it feels hard with that weight on my back. When I pay attention to it I feel it weigh down on me even further so I have to push it from my mind or I will have given in, take the thing off, sit down, and never move again.
Both of us are cold on the bus ride and the driver won’t even let us eat anything. We’re very hungry. My body enjoy the luxury of resting, sitting, ceasing to move, while inside my metabolism does everything it can to keep me warm. We finally arrive at the Bright Angel Lodge to check in – turns out we have the same room – 6114 – and the bellman helps bring our bags that have been stored while we were in Canyon to our room. Bless him. I let Nancy take first shower. I’m not ready. I put on my down sweater and curl up in a ball on my bed and turn my brain off for a few minutes, just trying to get warm and feel normal again.
Standing under hot water for a few minutes when it’s my turn to shower feels awesome. It feels great to shower and wash my hair and then dress in dry clothes. We think we will not last until late so we have made our dinner reservation for 7 pm, but when we check in we ask that the reservation be changed to 5 pm, and although the young man helping us feels a little prickly though he does help us out by making the call. After dressing and letting our hair dry we walk up to the El Tovar in a beautiful snow storm. It’s very festive, cold, and cheery as we shuffle along in the snow. Our celebration dinner table is in front of the fireplace and Nancy orders filet mignon au poivre and I choose the Rib Eye Steak special. Both meals are delicious, especially my tasty mashed potatoes. Wonderful flavor that I can’t identify. I share them with Nancy. Then delicious coffee and hot Apple Streusel a la mode. I enjoy every single bite and love sharing it with Nancy. The perfect end to an incredible day.
Back in our room, Nancy packs for leaving the next day. I pack too but don’t care how the clothes are put in the suitcase. I stuff my backpack full of dirty hiking clothes and what doesn’t fit is smashed in along the sides of the suitcase. Once that’s done I change into my jams and huddle under the covers reading for a while. I take a sleep aid and pray I will sleep and rest and start to heal these muscles. It feels beyond delicious to lie down and stretch my legs, although when I move, bend my knees or flex my feet I wake up groaning. Once again after talking for a bit Nancy is out before I can find the way to sleep. Her iPhone is busy playing the repetitive loop of white noise sounds called CITY. Eventually I fade and sleep well.
Up relatively early for breakfast, then our plan is to drive down to Desert View, stopping at view points along the way. It’s cold, 17, and windy, brrr… The car is covered with frost and snow and we have no scraper. Brilliant Nancy asks the people in a maintenance truck if they have one. They do and we borrow it. Then we’re off to look at the Canyon under its blanket of new snow. We stop at Mather Point, a popular stopping place near the Visitor Center, but it isn’t too crowded. Only the hearty or foolish are out on this chilly morning. We also stopped at Grandview Point, Moran Point, Zuni Point, Lipan Point, and then Desert View. We bundle up and walk down to the lookout, take some more pictures, then go into the tower itself and sit next to the fire burning in the fire pit. It feels so good to be next to that warmth!
We’re too cold to climb to the top of the tower but we manage to get up one level. The observation balcony is closed so we head back down and then to the snack bar from some cheddar broccoli soup for lunch. Afterwards it’s time to head back to the Village. We have a 6 o’clock reservation at El Tovar and we don’t want to be late. Swirls of snow fly across the road as the wind howls. It feels good to be in the car and not out in the wind and cold. We make it back to our room in time to get dressed and walk to the El Tovar for dinner. Again we order the onion soup and salad. No calories were burned today so a light meal is in order. But despite the lack of burned calories I order the chocolate mousse taco for dessert – a chocolate taco shell stuffed with chocolate mousse with the plate liberally sprinkled with dollops of whipped cream. And yes, with Nancy’s help, I eat the whole thing.
The walk back after being so warm inside the dining room and back out into the cold is rough. I ‘m shivering. We both are. Once back in our room it takes me ten minutes to pack while she sits next to her suitcase and folds each article of clothing. I carry some things she worries will take her bag over the 50 lb. limit. There are people in the room next to us and although they’re speaking a different language they talk until after 9 and we can hear them, but when they do stop and settle down it’s quiet and Nancy and I sleep well.
After breakfast we head to the car, which once again is frosted and icy and we still have no scraper. While Nancy goes in to check out I turn the rear defrost and the front defrost on high. It takes a while but finally it’s safe to drive. We head back toward Desert View and then east on Rte. 64 down into the Painted Desert until we reach Cameron, AZ where we stop for gas and a pit stop. This route is much more scenic, a lot of bare desert, reservations where Native Americans live in trailers and subsist on selling jewelry to tourists and I don’t know what else. A lot of empty desert. Then we head south on I 89 to the Flagstaff area. Out of the desert and into forests of Ponderosa Pine, a different elevation means different flora and fauna.
Once we reach I 17 we head south but take the Sedona exit since we have the time and are looking for another visit. Again we order sandwiches at Sedona Memories – the guy there is rude and doesn’t enjoy Nancy’s engaging humor. Poop on him. Lighten up. While the sandwiches are being built we walk around town, browsing through galleries and shops. Neither of us buy anything. After a bit, we return, eat half a sandwich on a picnic table looking out at the beautiful Sedona Red Rock, then pack up and head south down Rt. 179 which eventually takes us back to I 17 and we merge into traffic heading south to Phoenix.
We don’t talk much and the silence is comfortable. I feel like I have been through an incredible experience and am not quite ready to start talking about it. I need some time and quiet to let things integrate. The mood in the car, however, is open and free and positive. None of that heavy tension we can sometimes bring to our relationship.
We drop off the rental car and get a taxi to the Best Western near the airport. It’s three o’clock when we check into our room and I flop down on my bed. I check email and news and Facebook and start reading. It feels great to sit and read. My heart is resting and my brain is off duty. Nancy goes out and reads by the pool. An hour later she returns and tries to coax me into going into the hot tub with her, but we have no clothes to wear and I let that stifle my adventurous spirit. We could have made it work and we would have had fun, gotten a relaxing hot soak and had a couple of laughs. But it doesn’t happen.
We shower and dress and go to the restaurant in the motel instead of spending $60 in taxi fare to go eat at Don and Charlie’s about 13 miles away. After dinner I’m pooped so I curl up with my book and feel my body slowly wind down toward sleep. We manage to stay awake until 9 pm before we give up, turn on the white noise, set the alarm and sleep.
Oh man, the alarm is a brutal awakening at 5 am. I react without being fully awake, sit up and turn on the light. Bang. Really fast. No transition, no snoozing. I barely know what I’m doing. We dress and gather our luggage and head for the shuttle. We end up on the 5:15 shuttle and arrive at the airport with plenty of time to get through security and buy some breakfast food. The rest of the day, the flights are on time, landings are a little twitchy because it’s really windy out, and we make it back to my car around 5 pm and drive home in relative silence. I’m tired and excited to see Hamlin and be home. I have been anxious about returning home – sometimes reintegration can be very hard – but it’s fine. Hamlin is happy to see me, as is Pinta. I feel OK. I am home. And it’s not easy to have such an adventure, to be with someone all day every day for a week and then simply walk away, back into our own lives. But that’s what we do.
This was a wonderful trip, full of grace and healing and laughter and exhaustion and testing limits. I am looking forward to the next one.