Showing posts with label Grand Canyon. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Grand Canyon. Show all posts

Friday, February 19, 2010

Grand Canyon Experience

Recently, my daughter declared herself ready for another Grand Canyon adventure.
Yippee!!
I adore the canyon. I totally understand how some of the First Nations consider it the center of the world. I fell in love with the canyon as a pre-teen when I read Powell's account, "Explorations of the Colorado River" and saw the stunning IMAX movie. The Denver Museum of Natural History had a huge 3-D contour map of the canyon. I was fascinated. And hooked.

A year later, my family visited for the first time. Much to my surprise, my seriously acrophobic mother allowed my best friend and me to hike down, spend the night at Phantom Ranch, and hike out the next day. We were both 14. It was AWESOME! (And, that is the correct useage of the term "awesome" - the Canyon truly is one of the most magnificent places on Earth.)
I spent a fall during college working at the El Tovar Hotel, hiking sections of trails several times a week, and took two solo trip to Phantom.
Last Thanksgiving, after a 16-year absence, I returned! It was the first visit for daughter and hubby. In an effort to save a few dollars, we got a backcountry permit to camp for three nights. Due to a mild illness the day before, and daughter's desire for another Junior Ranger badge, we didn't get on the trail until noon. We reached the inner gorge at sunset and negotiated the last mile in the dark. We had to scramble to arrive in time for the Hikers Stew dinner. Delicious.





We enjoyed our full day lay-over, except for the rain. What a time to discover that our tent was not waterproof. We wrapped the tent in our emergency blankets and double checked that all clothing was secured in trash bags.
Someone cancelled their dinner reservation that day so we got to eat steak. Yes, it's expensive. But, I swear, Phantom Ranch has the best food, anywhere.
That night, it rained and rained. Well before dawn, daughter says, "It's wet over here." Yeah, I know. "No. Really wet." I heard a splash. My fingers reached for the floor and found a lake. Our entire campsite flooded. There were 2-3 inches of standing water inside the tent. It would have been deeper except the sleeping bags, jackets and spare clothes soaked up gallons.
We stumbled out of our new wading pool into a the misty night. A visit to the restroom confirmed that we were not the only victims. Several of us hung out inside and to wring out our clothes in a bizarre 5AM slumber party.
There was no point trying to get back to sleep. We ate granola bars and started packing.
Water is heavy! Our packs were stuffed for the hike down. We each carried slightly more weight than was truly comfortable. Rain doubled the weight we had to lug out, plus the food we'd planned to eat for dinner the night before. We reached Indian Gardens about 3 in the afternoon. Now, we had a choice. Do we set up camp and suffer through a cold, wet night with saturated gear? Or trust to our flashlights and hike out in the dark? I decided I was less tired right then than I would be after an second cold, uncomfortable, disturbed night.
We went on. More than a year later, I'm still not sure it was the best choice. We are experienced night hikers, through early and late starts, unwillingness to turn back, and long hikes after work. On one of our sunset training hikes that summer, nature rewarded us with a shining glowworm on a rock.
In my youth, I hiked out of the Canyon in six hours. This time, it took almost fifteen. Fortunately, the trail stayed wet and muddy, not icy in spite of the snow on the rim. Our flashlights held up. Daughter got out safely, even though she was hiking in the dark for two hours past her bedtime. Good girl!


Next time, we buy a waterproof tent with a sealed bathtub bottom. Yes, it's heavier than our 1980s castoff, but anything would be lighter than the gallons of extra water we hauled up. We estimated our combined packs weighed 60-70 pounds when we started down. At the top, while begging for a hotel room and sizzling by the Bright Angel Lodge fireplace, we tossed the packs on the mule-ride scale. Over 100 pounds.

Hubby coined a new term. Mule-acious - able to carry heavy loads down and up that grueling trail. We all qualified that trip.

We are the Muleacious Family.

Happily, daughter announced she is ready to do it again.



Tuesday, September 15, 2009

The primal wonders - my favorite poem

This is my favorite poem. My "Senior Field Studies" teacher read it on our 10 day desert backpacking excursion. It resonated in high school. Many miles later, it still resonates.
It's in the 1960's book, "This is the American Earth," a collaboration between poet and literary critic, Nancy Newhall, and photographer, Ansel Adams. They were both supporters of Sierra Club.
This Is the American Earth
Nancy Newhall

To the primal wonders no road can ever lead; they are not so won.
To know them you shall leave road and roof behind;
you shall go light and spare.
You shall win them yourself, in sweat, sun, laughter, in dust and rain, with only a few companions.
You shall know the night — its space, its light, its music.
You shall see earth sink in darkness and the universe appear.
No roof shall shut you from the presence of the moon.
You shall see mountains rise in the transparent shadow before dawn.
You shall see — and feel! — first light, and hear a ripple in the stillness.
You shall enter the living shelter of the forest.
You shall walk where only the wind has walked before.
You shall know immensity, and see continuing the primeval forces of the world.
You shall know not one small segment but the whole of life, strange, miraculous, living, dying, changing.
You shall face immortal challenges;
you shall dare, delighting, to pit your skill, courage, and wisdom against colossal facts.
You shall live lifted up in light; you shall move among the clouds.
You shall see storms arise, and, drenched and deafened, shall exult in them.
You shall top a rise and behold creation.
And you shall need the tongues of angels to tell what you have seen.

View from the South Kaibab trail, Grand Canyon.

Aveline