Showing posts with label hiking. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hiking. 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, October 6, 2009

Colorado Trail - Silver Creek to Avalanche Gulch


September 27. Two weeks 'til hunting season. 3:00 p.m.
Come on, Daughter! Grab a flashlight and jacket. Let's climb a mountain!
Perhaps starting a 6.5 mile hike at 3:30 in late September isn't the brightest plan, but, hey, we like walking in the dark. It's peaceful and refreshing.
The Silver Creek trail is steep! The low sun gleamed through the golden aspen as we walked in a fairy realm. We walked for an hour, and then two. We passed the point where we turned back last year. We plodded through the cool afternoon, and into the shadows of evening. Near the top, snow crossed the trail. We stepped carefully, and leaned on our trekking poles.

After four hours, we reached the saddle. A few years back, I summited and returned to my car in 4.5. This hike is part of my Odyssey to regain strength, stamina, and general fitness. All this extra weight seriously slows me down!

We snacked while sitting on a fabulous log, watching Yale and the other mountains fade to black.
The Collegiate Peaks still resist the massive beetle kills overwhelming other parts of the state. But, there are plenty of downed trees. I was shocked, several times, by how unearthed tree roots mimic the outline of a mountain lion. At least, by flashlight.
Finally, we reached the last slope. Hubby flipped on the car lights, and we waved our flashlights back. We zig-zagged down the open face of the hill, a section I know well. Since it's south-facing, that section is dry much of the winter, so I often hike those switchbacks as training.


We celebrated when we reached the creek crossings. Daughter reminisced of her younger years when she begged to play in the little rivulets. This time, we crossed carefully, neither of us wanting colder feet. We strode past the last few aspen, and met hubby and the warm car for a chauffeured ride home.