Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Hitchiking Home
I stared out the window watching the canyon fly by me... so much faster than when I was crossing through the gorge below. We'd stop at the canyon lookouts, and the desert view tower. All the little touristy places that I may have otherwise missed. I dug deep into my pocket to count my change, I was just a dime short of an ice cream. I looked around at the cafe menu for something else before trying to barter with the cashier to give me less than my full serving, to no avail. I asked him what it cost with tax, and asked some foreign lady for a dime. She tried handing me a quarter, and I pointed out the smallest of the shiny coins. I walked back in with a big smile on my face, not so happy at the cashier, who handed me a two inch size cup. I had just paid $3 for ice cream, and he gave me that little thing? I quickly found out that I could pile it on as high as I wanted... I'll tell you I certainly got my money's worth. It was a leaning tower that hung about 6 inches over my cup, smothered in orange cream, chocolate, mint, and vanilla ice cream.
As I piled it on, a man whom I figured worked there laughed, and commented about my sculpture. Then he strangely leaned over to me and whispered in my ear in a graspy, creepy sort of tone, "You're kinda perty..."
My eyes grew huge while I was trying to process what he said, my feet were the first to work, kinda like Fred Flintstone running in place... and I was OUTTA THERE!
In a bit of a panic I couldn't find the girls I was riding with, their names wiped from my memory, and I couldn't even describe the car if I needed to. I thought they would meet me at the Cafe? Panic came over me, my bag was in there car, with everything I owned. My wallet, drivers license, GPS, sleeping bag. Everything I needed to survive. What if I was stuck here with that creepy weird guy?
I took off to the parking lot to see if I could find the car. To my utter relief, there they were, waiting for me. Whew!!!
I snuggled back into my seat, doing the strange little dance to get the door shut- my body mostly out the window. I sat down, blanket on my lap, trying to shovel down the ice cream, which I held out the window. The car's speed picked up once we were on the highway, and melted ice cream was blowing everywhere! It had dripped down to my elbow, was covering my face and hands, while I was doing everything to keep it from spilling in the car.
As I licked the sun baked ice cream off my arms, I started to think that I should leave it in case I get stranded hitchhiking back the rest of the way. To remind me of civilization perhaps?
A strange buzzing came from the car, as I wiggled around in my seat, I found a locust. We had been trying to find one all day. Now there he was. I thought about Stinger, the pet scorpion, and instead of dooming this insect to the desert, decided to take him along as a mascot, and free him back in the woods on the North Rim.
I managed to tie a few pieces of my hair around him as a leash, and kept an eye out. The day flew by, and before I could name my new friend, he flew off too- out the window. I think it was mating season, and you know what testosterone can do. I suppose even if he died out there, at least he was living the way he wanted to- Free.
At the junction of highway 89, where it split in two routes, they pulled the car over so we could part our ways. Before I had even gotten my bag out, a truck pulled off to see if we were having car trouble.
"No I told the guy, the car is fine, but are you heading to Jacob's Lake?" I asked. He looked a bit baffled and agreed that he was. I did a quick look for any signs of creepiness, he passed the test. I explained the situation, and before I knew it had homemade cookies stuffed in my pockets, courtesy of the girls I rode with, and I was well on my way back to the North Rim.
I was surprised at how easy this was, considering that just yesterday I was being sneered at and scolded by snoody tourists. What did they know? If they had any sort of decency they would have offered a ride.
I suppose I am still a little cold towards that so very American attitude. I suppose we all have our reasons right? Ignorance.
I talked with the guy, who turned out to be a construction worker, heading back home to see his family. He told me about his travels, his family, and the new pool business he was going into. He told me stories of the desert, about Lee's ferry and how it use to be the major crossing point of the Grand Canyon.
I was dropped off at the junction at Jacob's Lake, just about an hour north of my final destination. The day had gone much smoother than expected, and I stragegized that it would be better to talk to someone at the gas station than to stick my thumb out.
After chatting with a group of bikers, I started to ask around. Everyone seemed to be going the opposite direction, or show no interest. I waited around for some time, before I decided to call my dad and let him know that I was alright. I called him right before I went on my trip to tell him what I was up to. I probably gave him a few grey hairs (my mom agrees).
I waited for some time, I knew foreign travelers were a better bet than Americans, and I quickly approached a German couple. They seemed to agree, and I'd meet them when they were done visiting the store. They didn't seem to understand much of what I was saying, but the important message got across.
I told them about the owls I worked with, and explained about controlled (and uncontrolled) fires in the area. It was a bit difficult to communicate, but the time I spent overseas has taught me patience. They dropped me off at the Kaibab trail entrance. A trail that I had new understanding and deep respect for now.
It felt as if it were a dream, I couldn't believe that I had finally made it home. I wanted to give everyone a hug, happy to be well and alive. No one was at my camp, but I had never been so happy to be there, and my bed had never felt so soft.
Monday, June 22, 2009
Through the Painted Desert
I woke up sprawled out on a tarp in my sleeping bag, with the others around me doing the same. The morning was chilly, and I curled back up in my bag, letting my full consciousness come back to me. I lay there as long as I could, and while I watched the rainbow boys take their scorpion for a walk. We each pulled out breakfast foods, insisting that the other eat our food... make the backpacks lighter. So in that case, we had a feast! Kool-aid squeezes, mandarins, beagles, coffee... and everything else we could put down.
The other campers were well on their way to leaving the canyon, my signal that I should be up. I hoped that I could strike up a conversation with some woman in the bathroom or something. Either way, they were leaving, and I needed a ride. I quickly packed up my stuff and took a good look around. “What are you going to do,” said Audra? I told her my plan. “I’ll see if I can get a ride with someone in the campground, then I’ll go back to the trail head and try until 9am when I can try again at the rangers station. If all that fails, then I’ll take the shuttle as far as it goes, and try hitching from there.” I knew if even all that failed... I’d have to walk back across the canyon.
“We’re headed that direction... if we can find room, you’re welcome to join us.”
My face light up with excitement. I helped them pack and shove their stuff into the car. I see what they meant by, “if they can find room.” There was a ton of stuff in that little car. Sure enough, I wanted a ride, and helped them make room for me.
There was a bout a foot of seat space behind the drivers seat, and after we got the last 6 blankets stuffed in there, I rolled down the window, stuck my head out, turned sideways in the car, and slammed the door shut. I snuggled into the little space, put another queen sized blanket on my lap, and we were ready to go. All you could see of me is a hand or two and a head. With the window rolled down, and knowing that I was finally headed back home, it was all I could ever want. They were taking me nearly half way back. You would think that since the distance from the two canyon rims is less than 30 miles that it would be a short drive. It takes about 5 ½ hours to drive from one side to the next, and so I was so very thankful for this long ride.
Bleach White Bones
Maybe I’d get some marshmallows and make friends. I was exhausted and too tired to stop by the store. I just missed the shuttle, and as I waited I thought about going up to the lodge to see if I could talk myself into something, anything. I was feeling quite desperate. This was my adventure I told myself, and that would be the easy/dumb way out. I rode over to Mather campground again, where I spotted a ranger. Perhaps someone would be driving to the North Rim in the morning. I spoke with her, and she advised me to stop by the office around 9am. Maybe there would be a ride. Bill had mentioned the ACE crew, an international trail crew who I share a camp with on the North Rim. I couldn’t take it to be criticized by some random group of people again, and I’m sure they would let me stay by their fire. She told me their site numbers, and I walked off towards them (about 2/3 of a mile), disappointed that she didn’t offer to give me a ride.
I walked the loop around the camp sites, with the two white vans nowhere in site. It was well past dark now, and I had no energy to pull out my headlamp. I looked over and saw a nice big fire, decided to ask them about the ACE crew.
“Are they expecting you?” I replied, “They don’t even know I exist.” The woman was about my age and was sitting with three others. “Well you’re welcome to come sit by our fire for awhile.” I dropped my pack, and plopped down by the warm fire. I began to tell them my story while they looked at me in disbelief.
The girl who had invited me over jumped out of her lounger chair, and insisted that I sit. I’ll call her Audra. Audra handed me a beer, and they had to know more. I talked for sometime before I got to learn each of their stories.
The two guys, each with dreadlocks, were hitchhiking to a rainbow gathering in New Mexico. One of them had a pet bark scorpion, about an inch and a half in length and nearly all white. His name was stinger, and was most certainly poisonous. He lived in a small little jar, after the guy had come across him in his backpack. I got a kick out of the daily walks they would take him on. Just tipped him out of the jar and let him stroll around for awhile- simply keep an eye on him. The plan was to release him back in the desert similar to where he was found... he’d be put into the grand canyon with others of his kind.
Audra was traveling with another girl over the last few weeks. Though Audra seemed to be more of an outgoing vegan type, and her friend seemed a bit more conservative, they appeared to be close friends. They had happened to come across the rainbow guys traveling around just earlier that evening. So here we were, a bunch of young adults traveling the world, simply doing what we love to do.
We drank beer and shared stories around the campfire late into the night. Chanting, singing, harmonizing, and playing instruments. These are my kind of people! Audra had asked me about my foot, which was now wrapped up in gauze, and had offered to help heal it. “Anything would be fantastic,” I told her. “Have you iced it?” she said.
“Ice... Now that’s in idea!” After my time in Zion, I had accepted the sad truth that ice wouldn’t last in the desert more than five minutes. Audra gave me that disbelieving motherly look, and quickly brought back a bag of ice for me. She rubbed tea oil on the bag and instructed that I keep it there for the next hour. It stung, but I knew it was for my own good. We continued our conversations around the fire. I held that ice bag on, as the pain grew to be unbearable. I’d listen in, occasionally squishing up my face, and leaning back to help me let the stinging perhaps go unnoticed. I could hardly keep ice on any longer, I was sneakily pulling i
t off when I could. Then finally Audra said, ok you’re done! Thank god! She came back with a cinnamon hot rub, tube out, ready to put over my wounds. I leaned forward pouting a bit, “Please don’t hurt it.”
I knew she had nothing but good intentions, and I was certainly feeling like a bit of a baby. I sat back while she put on the rub, and added Neosporin to my gigantic blister- now the size of a 50 cent piece. Though my foot was numb from the cold ice, it still throbbed (like a mo fo). I wrapped it back up in gauze, and I made sure to not move or let it touch anything. I was having too much of a good time to worry about it now.
I knew I was in great company as when Audra handed me the bottle of jegermister, (to take away some of the pain), and we sung away, harmonizing late into the night...
“Bleach white bones, leave them alone. Let them sit forever on the cold hard stone.”
“Bleach white bones, leave them alone. Let them sit forever on the cold hard stone.”
I walked the loop around the camp sites, with the two white vans nowhere in site. It was well past dark now, and I had no energy to pull out my headlamp. I looked over and saw a nice big fire, decided to ask them about the ACE crew.
“Are they expecting you?” I replied, “They don’t even know I exist.” The woman was about my age and was sitting with three others. “Well you’re welcome to come sit by our fire for awhile.” I dropped my pack, and plopped down by the warm fire. I began to tell them my story while they looked at me in disbelief.
The girl who had invited me over jumped out of her lounger chair, and insisted that I sit. I’ll call her Audra. Audra handed me a beer, and they had to know more. I talked for sometime before I got to learn each of their stories.
The two guys, each with dreadlocks, were hitchhiking to a rainbow gathering in New Mexico. One of them had a pet bark scorpion, about an inch and a half in length and nearly all white. His name was stinger, and was most certainly poisonous. He lived in a small little jar, after the guy had come across him in his backpack. I got a kick out of the daily walks they would take him on. Just tipped him out of the jar and let him stroll around for awhile- simply keep an eye on him. The plan was to release him back in the desert similar to where he was found... he’d be put into the grand canyon with others of his kind.
Audra was traveling with another girl over the last few weeks. Though Audra seemed to be more of an outgoing vegan type, and her friend seemed a bit more conservative, they appeared to be close friends. They had happened to come across the rainbow guys traveling around just earlier that evening. So here we were, a bunch of young adults traveling the world, simply doing what we love to do.
We drank beer and shared stories around the campfire late into the night. Chanting, singing, harmonizing, and playing instruments. These are my kind of people! Audra had asked me about my foot, which was now wrapped up in gauze, and had offered to help heal it. “Anything would be fantastic,” I told her. “Have you iced it?” she said.
“Ice... Now that’s in idea!” After my time in Zion, I had accepted the sad truth that ice wouldn’t last in the desert more than five minutes. Audra gave me that disbelieving motherly look, and quickly brought back a bag of ice for me. She rubbed tea oil on the bag and instructed that I keep it there for the next hour. It stung, but I knew it was for my own good. We continued our conversations around the fire. I held that ice bag on, as the pain grew to be unbearable. I’d listen in, occasionally squishing up my face, and leaning back to help me let the stinging perhaps go unnoticed. I could hardly keep ice on any longer, I was sneakily pulling i
t off when I could. Then finally Audra said, ok you’re done! Thank god! She came back with a cinnamon hot rub, tube out, ready to put over my wounds. I leaned forward pouting a bit, “Please don’t hurt it.”
I knew she had nothing but good intentions, and I was certainly feeling like a bit of a baby. I sat back while she put on the rub, and added Neosporin to my gigantic blister- now the size of a 50 cent piece. Though my foot was numb from the cold ice, it still throbbed (like a mo fo). I wrapped it back up in gauze, and I made sure to not move or let it touch anything. I was having too much of a good time to worry about it now.
I knew I was in great company as when Audra handed me the bottle of jegermister, (to take away some of the pain), and we sung away, harmonizing late into the night...
“Bleach white bones, leave them alone. Let them sit forever on the cold hard stone.”
“Bleach white bones, leave them alone. Let them sit forever on the cold hard stone.”
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Hitchhiking back to my Condo Tent- Luxury Home
Early morning came, and I got a text from bill around 5am... went back to sleep, chuckling about the misaligned zipper not only on the doorway, but on the screen as well. haha. It was a cheap backyard tent for kids that they apparently rented. The Korean couple also picked up one sleeping bag to share, in a climate where frost forms at night. Not wonder they were cold. The floor was hard and rocky, but is was SOOO nice to be off my feet.
The Korean guy, the one who fed me steak and rum, and whose name I still don't know, was fast asleep in the sleeping bag. Looks like they had a difficult night sleeping in the outdoors. Maybe they really were from Manhattan, New York. I had a cup of orange juice, and managed to get a hold my owl friend, Bill. We were in the same campground, just a short ways away, but I asked him to find me, cause it might take me forever trying to walk to him. I was moving in a cricked bow-legged fashion, and my muscles were like solid rocks.
Before long Bill showed up, and we got to finally meet. We spoke forever sitting on the Korean's picnic bench sharing stories as if we were old friends.
We began to walk back to his camp site to grab the truck, and Bill looked at me like you would a pitiful dog as I limped along like the crooked old man and his six pence. "I'll grab the truck and meet you back here." I was so happy! Bill grabbed his white work truck, a monster of a truck, and we drove off to find breakfast. It was like being in Disney land, the South Rim was so busy and Made For Tourists! We stopped in the grocery store, which was like a giant gift shop, and grabbed bagels and cream cheese. (Now a becoming a time long tradition for Bill and I). He took me for a nice driving tour of the area, and back in behind the restricted areas for a better view of the canyon. Every time I got out of the truck, it took me at least 5 minutes to get myself wiggled out back onto my soar legs. I certainly looked like a cripple, but I all I could do is laugh at myself.
As I mentioned earlier, Bill had crossed the canyon in 8.5 hours not too long ago, and was still not sure what took me so long. (He would later carry a pack across, slept a good nights sleep along the way, and still took longer than I did).
I met the owl crew on the South Rim, the Condor Crew, and one of the ladies working on Cougars. I mostly slumped around that day, didn’t feel like doing much more than sitting. And in good company too. It was time for Tim’s owl crew to head back into the canyon, and that included Bill too. I borrowed a sharpie marker and made up a nice little sign that said Highway 89 to North Rim. I also added a few hearts and stars for good luck. They crew was rushed off, and Bill said a quick goodbye pointing me in the right direction. You could tell he felt bad about leaving me there like that, but he also thought I pretty frickin awesome and would be just fine (he later told me). I wobbled down the paved trail towards the road that would take me back to my nice soft bed. I stuck my thumb out by the road hoping to at least get a ride closer, it was suppose to be nearly a mile away. Tears rolled down my cheeks. I had to hide in the bathroom a couple of times back at the wildlife center to hide my crying. Though I felt a little desperate and exhausted, it was still an adventure. It was more that not only did my blister cause me severe pain, (I did not mention that it popped on the climb back up), but also that I rubbed my tendons raw in my heels. I was too exhausted to take care of myself, and could sleep in the bushes for the next four days and not care.
As I walked on this path gliding side to side on the outer edges of my feet (it hurt less), the path diverged. No one had mentioned this. No signs, nothing. So I picked a path and continued on. I had to stop a couple of times to break down and cry, but it was all part of the adventure right? I had to say I had a great outlook on the whole situation. The path diverged several times more before I found someone I could ask for directions. I meandered over to a lady gardening, “Oh yeah, its about a mile from here, and she pointed back the same direction I had come from.” ??? She directed me through the branching of the trail, I took a deep sigh and carried on. Tears again, and a smile on my face, I tried to make my way back through. Still managed to get lost... several times over, and stuck out my sign as soon as I found the road. I had no idea where I was, but I was ready to get outta there.
Several vehicles passed me, often with disapproving hateful looks. (Bill had been sworn at, swerved for, and flipped off by tourists on his route back. How awful! What kind of society of I live in?). None of that had happened to me. I got a few smiles, and a couple of people stopped who were headed the wrong direction. I looked at a young guy across the street who wanted to give me a ride, but replied that he was going the other way. I ran off into the woods and cried some more. If I were in any other country, I would have had a ride by now. Full of hate for Americans, I gave up, and cried my eyes out.
Some time later, I got myself back together, and found out where I was. I grabbed a map from the campground laundry mat, and headed towards the free shuttles. I figured that I could take one as far as it would go out of the park. I had such a hard time believing that people could be so cruel. I was dressed in colorful hiking clothes, had a new backpack, and certainly didn’t look like I would cause anyone harm. I’ve always had great luck hitching, and with the most incredible people too.
I slowly made my way to the bus stop, and took it as far as it would go. Struck up a few conversations along the way, but nothing to benefit. I had boarded my third bus by now, and was far away from the park... but I looked at my map, and realized that I had taken the wrong bus. I was far South from where I meant to be, and had to ride it back, 20 minutes into the park again. When I finally reached the pick up point to the correct shuttle, it was already 6 pm, a useless and dangerous time to hitchhike out.
Filled with dismay, sadness and exhaustion, I put on my best smile, and tried to think of a new plan. It was certainly better for me to stay in the park another night than be stranded on an Indian reservation. Bill had warned me that people have been skinned there at night. Lovely.
Maybe if I hung out in front of the fancy lodges I could strike up a conversation and manage to crash a floor in some fancy sweet. It was early dusk, and I sat out by the rim of the canyon. Wind blowing my wild hair, and feeling like I was that crazy mountain woman I had always looked up to. I wondered what the children were thinking as they passed me with their parents. I struck up a few conversations that only ended is disgust and bewilderment at my having crossed the canyon. I pitty these people, they don’t know what kind of life they are missing out on.
A new idea struck me, perhaps someone else had walked this trail from the other rim and would be going back. Someone had to be at least as crazy as me, if not more so?!? I escaped the snoody tourists, and found a little place to station myself at the top of the trail head. Funny enough, people’s attitude here was completely different. It was only a few hundred meters away from the ‘others’, but a totally different world. I chatted up with almost every person who made it back up, each with incredible stories to tell.
Unfortunately none of them had done as I had. One lady joined me to watch the sun set over the canyon, a tradition of hers. She worked at one of the stores as a cashier, and simply couldn’t believe what I had done. “Well, what do I do with you?” She felt a bit responsible for me, like a sweet mother would. I should have just asked her for a floor to stay on, but I didn’t. I was hoping that she would just offer, it was on the tip of her tongue, but I was too busy re-assuring her that I would be fine. I knew I would be.
She went back to her car, not so happy about leaving me, and I made my way back towards the campground deeply disappointed about being stuck. I was 30 miles from home with an empty bank account. I had $5 in my pocket, no transportation, and no place to stay. I knew no one, and the sun had gone off to light up someone else’s day.
The Korean guy, the one who fed me steak and rum, and whose name I still don't know, was fast asleep in the sleeping bag. Looks like they had a difficult night sleeping in the outdoors. Maybe they really were from Manhattan, New York. I had a cup of orange juice, and managed to get a hold my owl friend, Bill. We were in the same campground, just a short ways away, but I asked him to find me, cause it might take me forever trying to walk to him. I was moving in a cricked bow-legged fashion, and my muscles were like solid rocks.
Before long Bill showed up, and we got to finally meet. We spoke forever sitting on the Korean's picnic bench sharing stories as if we were old friends.
We began to walk back to his camp site to grab the truck, and Bill looked at me like you would a pitiful dog as I limped along like the crooked old man and his six pence. "I'll grab the truck and meet you back here." I was so happy! Bill grabbed his white work truck, a monster of a truck, and we drove off to find breakfast. It was like being in Disney land, the South Rim was so busy and Made For Tourists! We stopped in the grocery store, which was like a giant gift shop, and grabbed bagels and cream cheese. (Now a becoming a time long tradition for Bill and I). He took me for a nice driving tour of the area, and back in behind the restricted areas for a better view of the canyon. Every time I got out of the truck, it took me at least 5 minutes to get myself wiggled out back onto my soar legs. I certainly looked like a cripple, but I all I could do is laugh at myself.
As I mentioned earlier, Bill had crossed the canyon in 8.5 hours not too long ago, and was still not sure what took me so long. (He would later carry a pack across, slept a good nights sleep along the way, and still took longer than I did).
I met the owl crew on the South Rim, the Condor Crew, and one of the ladies working on Cougars. I mostly slumped around that day, didn’t feel like doing much more than sitting. And in good company too. It was time for Tim’s owl crew to head back into the canyon, and that included Bill too. I borrowed a sharpie marker and made up a nice little sign that said Highway 89 to North Rim. I also added a few hearts and stars for good luck. They crew was rushed off, and Bill said a quick goodbye pointing me in the right direction. You could tell he felt bad about leaving me there like that, but he also thought I pretty frickin awesome and would be just fine (he later told me). I wobbled down the paved trail towards the road that would take me back to my nice soft bed. I stuck my thumb out by the road hoping to at least get a ride closer, it was suppose to be nearly a mile away. Tears rolled down my cheeks. I had to hide in the bathroom a couple of times back at the wildlife center to hide my crying. Though I felt a little desperate and exhausted, it was still an adventure. It was more that not only did my blister cause me severe pain, (I did not mention that it popped on the climb back up), but also that I rubbed my tendons raw in my heels. I was too exhausted to take care of myself, and could sleep in the bushes for the next four days and not care.
As I walked on this path gliding side to side on the outer edges of my feet (it hurt less), the path diverged. No one had mentioned this. No signs, nothing. So I picked a path and continued on. I had to stop a couple of times to break down and cry, but it was all part of the adventure right? I had to say I had a great outlook on the whole situation. The path diverged several times more before I found someone I could ask for directions. I meandered over to a lady gardening, “Oh yeah, its about a mile from here, and she pointed back the same direction I had come from.” ??? She directed me through the branching of the trail, I took a deep sigh and carried on. Tears again, and a smile on my face, I tried to make my way back through. Still managed to get lost... several times over, and stuck out my sign as soon as I found the road. I had no idea where I was, but I was ready to get outta there.
Several vehicles passed me, often with disapproving hateful looks. (Bill had been sworn at, swerved for, and flipped off by tourists on his route back. How awful! What kind of society of I live in?). None of that had happened to me. I got a few smiles, and a couple of people stopped who were headed the wrong direction. I looked at a young guy across the street who wanted to give me a ride, but replied that he was going the other way. I ran off into the woods and cried some more. If I were in any other country, I would have had a ride by now. Full of hate for Americans, I gave up, and cried my eyes out.
Some time later, I got myself back together, and found out where I was. I grabbed a map from the campground laundry mat, and headed towards the free shuttles. I figured that I could take one as far as it would go out of the park. I had such a hard time believing that people could be so cruel. I was dressed in colorful hiking clothes, had a new backpack, and certainly didn’t look like I would cause anyone harm. I’ve always had great luck hitching, and with the most incredible people too.
I slowly made my way to the bus stop, and took it as far as it would go. Struck up a few conversations along the way, but nothing to benefit. I had boarded my third bus by now, and was far away from the park... but I looked at my map, and realized that I had taken the wrong bus. I was far South from where I meant to be, and had to ride it back, 20 minutes into the park again. When I finally reached the pick up point to the correct shuttle, it was already 6 pm, a useless and dangerous time to hitchhike out.
Filled with dismay, sadness and exhaustion, I put on my best smile, and tried to think of a new plan. It was certainly better for me to stay in the park another night than be stranded on an Indian reservation. Bill had warned me that people have been skinned there at night. Lovely.
Maybe if I hung out in front of the fancy lodges I could strike up a conversation and manage to crash a floor in some fancy sweet. It was early dusk, and I sat out by the rim of the canyon. Wind blowing my wild hair, and feeling like I was that crazy mountain woman I had always looked up to. I wondered what the children were thinking as they passed me with their parents. I struck up a few conversations that only ended is disgust and bewilderment at my having crossed the canyon. I pitty these people, they don’t know what kind of life they are missing out on.
A new idea struck me, perhaps someone else had walked this trail from the other rim and would be going back. Someone had to be at least as crazy as me, if not more so?!? I escaped the snoody tourists, and found a little place to station myself at the top of the trail head. Funny enough, people’s attitude here was completely different. It was only a few hundred meters away from the ‘others’, but a totally different world. I chatted up with almost every person who made it back up, each with incredible stories to tell.
Unfortunately none of them had done as I had. One lady joined me to watch the sun set over the canyon, a tradition of hers. She worked at one of the stores as a cashier, and simply couldn’t believe what I had done. “Well, what do I do with you?” She felt a bit responsible for me, like a sweet mother would. I should have just asked her for a floor to stay on, but I didn’t. I was hoping that she would just offer, it was on the tip of her tongue, but I was too busy re-assuring her that I would be fine. I knew I would be.
She went back to her car, not so happy about leaving me, and I made my way back towards the campground deeply disappointed about being stuck. I was 30 miles from home with an empty bank account. I had $5 in my pocket, no transportation, and no place to stay. I knew no one, and the sun had gone off to light up someone else’s day.
Saturday, June 20, 2009
Steak and Rum!!!!
The speedy little group that we scared along the trail were nice enough to give us a ride to Mather Campground, where I would try to contact my owl friend Bill. It was already midnight, and I had a feeling that I wouldn't get a response. I found the warmth of the bathrooms, THEY FLUSH!!! and sent a text. I eyeballed the handicap stall which looked surprisingly clean... and warm. It seemed a bit too epic to say I slept in a bathroom stall after the hike, and I wasn't keen on people walking in on to do their business. I wondered back to the little hiker's camping spot with no sign of Bill, and began looking for a sheltered hollow under tree limbs.
They must clean the trees well there, because they all looked too proper and nicely trimmed up. Who cares. William looked at me a bit horrified and offered to build a fire. "I'm too tired to even watch you build a fire, I'm alright." He noticed that the neighbors already had a nice fire going, it couldn't hurt to ask.
As soon as we spoke up, the couple happily invited us to join the campfire, and had poured me a cup of pure iced rum before I got two words in. Sounds GREAT!! They were from New York, they had to look at each other and agree upon it, "Yeah, Manhattan, New York." Originally we are from Korea though.
"Have you eaten?" I was too tired to eat, but he was persistent. "We have steak." My eyes got huge, and glistened like a starving animal. He put a few pieces on before I could say a word, and there was no way that I was going to argue. They were Korean prepared with teriyaki sauce and sesame seeds, medium rare. The best steak I've ever had in my life!!!
We chit chatted about this and that, I was over empowered by endorphins and exhaustion to remember what. They casually insisted that I not sleep out by the fire, and stay in their tent instead. It was supposively a 4 person tent, and I was just so happy to be off the ground. In less than two seconds, I had my sleepingbag rolled out in the corner of the tent and was fast asleep. There was a couple of time that I woke up, once to realize that it was certainly not a 4 person tent, and that I somehow got snuggled in with this couple (???). but again, too tired to care. and once more to notice the Koreans lighting a stove in the middle of the tent because they were cold. I glanced up at the top of the tent- it was mesh, and hid deeper in my bag just in case they burned up all the oxygen in the tent. It even ran through my mind that the whole tent might burn down... but I was too tired to care.
They must clean the trees well there, because they all looked too proper and nicely trimmed up. Who cares. William looked at me a bit horrified and offered to build a fire. "I'm too tired to even watch you build a fire, I'm alright." He noticed that the neighbors already had a nice fire going, it couldn't hurt to ask.
As soon as we spoke up, the couple happily invited us to join the campfire, and had poured me a cup of pure iced rum before I got two words in. Sounds GREAT!! They were from New York, they had to look at each other and agree upon it, "Yeah, Manhattan, New York." Originally we are from Korea though.
"Have you eaten?" I was too tired to eat, but he was persistent. "We have steak." My eyes got huge, and glistened like a starving animal. He put a few pieces on before I could say a word, and there was no way that I was going to argue. They were Korean prepared with teriyaki sauce and sesame seeds, medium rare. The best steak I've ever had in my life!!!
We chit chatted about this and that, I was over empowered by endorphins and exhaustion to remember what. They casually insisted that I not sleep out by the fire, and stay in their tent instead. It was supposively a 4 person tent, and I was just so happy to be off the ground. In less than two seconds, I had my sleepingbag rolled out in the corner of the tent and was fast asleep. There was a couple of time that I woke up, once to realize that it was certainly not a 4 person tent, and that I somehow got snuggled in with this couple (???). but again, too tired to care. and once more to notice the Koreans lighting a stove in the middle of the tent because they were cold. I glanced up at the top of the tent- it was mesh, and hid deeper in my bag just in case they burned up all the oxygen in the tent. It even ran through my mind that the whole tent might burn down... but I was too tired to care.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Desert Night (Updated)
Too exhausted to hardly think, I found myself sprawled out by a water spiket, hoping to strike up a conversation and either stay at the camp or hike back with someone. It sure gets lonely on the trail, and seems to draw out the time when you are by yourself.
I wobbled down the path through the campground and dropped onto the steps below a cabin. I was looking for a bench, but anything would do. I layed back onto my pack, savoring every second that I was no longer on my feet. The blood began to rush away from my feet, which tingled as they became lighter. The watering spicket was in use, but I was certainly in no hurry to move.
A man by the name of William began talking to me, he had been carrying a 65 pound pack around the canyon bottom, with every sort of tool you could ever need in the outdoors. The only problem was, he was so prepared, he could hardly move. For a trip like that you want as little as possible, but it wasn't until he started going back uphill until he realized this. It's kinda like when CB decide to bring a spatula for an evening hike. Nothing else to cook with per say, but he had it! haha
William had come from Phantom Ranch as well, he left back at noon, two hours before me, and had been resting for the last 5 hours at Indian Gardens. I watched him re-pack his bag throwing in everything you could possible imagine. You have to wonder how he fit it all in... but it WAS a BIG bag.
He was ready to finish his hike... and I was anything but ready. Every inch of my body hurt, my blister was swelling, my calves and hamstrings (and every other muscle in my legs) were numb with exhaustion- just too stiff to move. I didn't want to wait around any longer than I had to, I needed to finish this hike- and GO TO BED! So despite my body's will, I lumped my pack back on and joined William on the trail. The pack was still digging in, my shoes had a huge hole in the heel (and thus the blister), and chaffing like you wouldn't believe. I was determined to finish, and now I was only 4 miles away!
I knew the part ahead would be killer awful, but it wasn't that far away- or so I thought... We began off on the trail, William urged me to lead off since he was certain his pack would lead him behind me. I was perfectly fine going a abnormally slow pace. He offered up his hiking poles, which we decided to share. I've never been so happy to have them, I'll tell you that damn pole saved my life! I don't think I'd be walking today without it.
We carried on chattering away about his work as a christian leader of some sort, and about how he was an expert on outdoor equipment (just not on how to pack it). I'm certain that there was very little blood going to my head by this point, because there is a definite lack in memory retention. When I was hiking with Norman back in mid-afternoon, he was teaching me about the canyon, and a plant called Detura... he must have told me the name of it more than 6 times... I'd repeat it to myself over and over until I forgot it minutes later. This must be the stupidity they talk about to do crazy things like hike the grand canyon on a 107 degree day.
I was so thankful that it was cool, a perfect temperature for hiking. If only I were well rested... or rested at all for that matter. I would occasionally check my GPS, I had figured we would be there in a couple of hours.
Cantering on... at a snails pace, I thought about how I was looking forward to meeting my new friend Bill DeVoe, another owl guy on the South Rim. We had met on CouchSurfing, an online website for traveler. We had already so much in common that I ended the first conversation short simply saying that we had to meet. I'm certain that we clarified that we were on the same canyon rim, but after 2 hours of looking for each other we realized our obvious mistake. He had hiked this trail once before, and had completed it in 8.5 hours. That's records pace, and I was sure of that when he said so. I figured that I'd take somewhere between 10 and 12 hours, and looking at the time just then, decided that it'd be closer to 12 hours.
The sunset of oranges and reds faded into nightfall, and the stars began to light the sky. Resting every 15 minutes or so, we came across a couple of mule deer. They were walking along a steep rocky hill, foraging on the occasional spurt of foliage. A man strolled around the corner, and we pointed out the mulies to him. We spoke briefly, and he had offered up the trail crew cabin at Indian Springs seeing that he was "the man in charge". The offer was so tempting, but it was 20 minutes since we left there, and we'd be going back downhill. I had to finish! He looked at us like we were a little crazy... and we probably were, but on we went.
Up the steep hills, climbing our way closer to heaven, I began to feel like I was simply gliding along. I knew different, but it was a pleasant thought. Endorphins, HOORAH!!!! We started to tease each other about finding the elevator. And actually, there was supposivly an old elevator hidden from public view... somewhere along the trail. Before long we pulled out the headlamps, and continued in sheer darkness. The moon began to rise, and soon we could see a cream lit fog floating above the deep canyon below us. It was spectacular, perhaps even erie, but not to my notice or concern.
A few desert scorpions passed by, and the ledges grew even steeper. I pulled out the gps once again, and it said that we had 4,000ft to go. I looked up ahead of me, and the top only appeared about 1,500ft. Voices from the rim above hollered down, too muffled to make out words. I hollered back once, but decided to keep that bit of energy for my legs. They seemed to be having a great time, and with due luck, that would be Bill and a friend waiting to pick me up.
I was sure the instrument was wrong, must be canyon interference. Luckily, it was less than a mile to the trails end (I could agree with the GPS on that)! With new enthusiasm, we began to walk faster (or limp in my case), and within the next half an hour we reached what I had thought was the top. To my dismal dismay, the gps was certainly not wrong! Another 2,500ft cliff face now towered over us. So many times by now I had thought I had reached the top... but the damn thing keeps going!
I carelessly flopped down on the trail... in dried up mule poo... and did not care one bit. I layed their breathing with the full capacity of my lungs too tired to be disappointed. I recall back at the beginning of the trail telling myself to expect to simply hike forever. That there was no end, and if I ever reached one... it would be a surprise.
As I rounded another corner, a large flat boulder poked out above a sheer drop off. I had to laugh, "Hey look, that is SO nice of them! They give you the option to jump!" It certainly felt like an easier way out, but I was certainly just kidding.
"Hey... you know what, when I get to the top, I'm going to sing out Queens 'WE ARE THE CHAMPIONS', when we finally reach that top."
Time was endless, no beginning, no end. Just you in the moment, and you're smart you'll do something worthwhile with it. Since I knew that I would spend eternity hiking, neither of us had any shame in taking breaks every other switchback. William was quite entertaining, he always had to find the perfect rock to sit on, and made sure that he wasn't getting too dirty. Me on the other hand... I've had three river baths and was still covered in sweat, dirt caked on, sat in mule poo, and had already peed on myself that day. Like I cared where I sat!
"Hey Will... you see the elevator yet?"
Further down the trail, we turned around and noticed a small light coming up through the darkness of the canyon. For some reason thought it would be great to scare them. I stood by the trail (to prevent anyone from falling off) and William hid in the bush further back. When the light finally reached my, I was surprised to find three people following a meg light. They were friendly, and we talked for a sec. William jumped out, and we all got a great laugh out of it. Other than William, I hadn't seen another person on the desolate trail since Phantom Ranch, over 10 hours ago. We walked together for awhile, but the backpack-free, injury-free, well rested troop bombed right up that path.
William found this large flat boulder where we stretched out to look at the stars. I wish I knew my constellations better. The sky was full of shooting stars, I remember wishing only that I make it back to the top. They were beautiful.
It must have been less than 1,000ft to the top now, and we were taking our sweet tired ass time getting there. There was little energy left for excitement, as I was sure there would be another monument to climb beyond this rim.
Up and up we went, through an arch in the trail... way cool I thought as I hobbled on by. There were signs around it saying DANGER... but all I could think was that they were SIGNS OF LIFE!! Little glowing dots light up the lodges of the South Rim, and we knew that this was finally it. One last long rest on a log, we took in the vastness of a moonlit grand canyon, with Great Appreciation.
Like an old woman carrying an oxygen tank on her back and steadying her wobble with a cane, I walked the last few feet of the trail. With an awkward exasperated gasp of a drone, I began to sing, "we are The CHAMPIONS, WE ARE the chAmPIONS..." (and with the last of my breath), "of the world".
I wobbled down the path through the campground and dropped onto the steps below a cabin. I was looking for a bench, but anything would do. I layed back onto my pack, savoring every second that I was no longer on my feet. The blood began to rush away from my feet, which tingled as they became lighter. The watering spicket was in use, but I was certainly in no hurry to move.
A man by the name of William began talking to me, he had been carrying a 65 pound pack around the canyon bottom, with every sort of tool you could ever need in the outdoors. The only problem was, he was so prepared, he could hardly move. For a trip like that you want as little as possible, but it wasn't until he started going back uphill until he realized this. It's kinda like when CB decide to bring a spatula for an evening hike. Nothing else to cook with per say, but he had it! haha
William had come from Phantom Ranch as well, he left back at noon, two hours before me, and had been resting for the last 5 hours at Indian Gardens. I watched him re-pack his bag throwing in everything you could possible imagine. You have to wonder how he fit it all in... but it WAS a BIG bag.
He was ready to finish his hike... and I was anything but ready. Every inch of my body hurt, my blister was swelling, my calves and hamstrings (and every other muscle in my legs) were numb with exhaustion- just too stiff to move. I didn't want to wait around any longer than I had to, I needed to finish this hike- and GO TO BED! So despite my body's will, I lumped my pack back on and joined William on the trail. The pack was still digging in, my shoes had a huge hole in the heel (and thus the blister), and chaffing like you wouldn't believe. I was determined to finish, and now I was only 4 miles away!
I knew the part ahead would be killer awful, but it wasn't that far away- or so I thought... We began off on the trail, William urged me to lead off since he was certain his pack would lead him behind me. I was perfectly fine going a abnormally slow pace. He offered up his hiking poles, which we decided to share. I've never been so happy to have them, I'll tell you that damn pole saved my life! I don't think I'd be walking today without it.
We carried on chattering away about his work as a christian leader of some sort, and about how he was an expert on outdoor equipment (just not on how to pack it). I'm certain that there was very little blood going to my head by this point, because there is a definite lack in memory retention. When I was hiking with Norman back in mid-afternoon, he was teaching me about the canyon, and a plant called Detura... he must have told me the name of it more than 6 times... I'd repeat it to myself over and over until I forgot it minutes later. This must be the stupidity they talk about to do crazy things like hike the grand canyon on a 107 degree day.
I was so thankful that it was cool, a perfect temperature for hiking. If only I were well rested... or rested at all for that matter. I would occasionally check my GPS, I had figured we would be there in a couple of hours.
Cantering on... at a snails pace, I thought about how I was looking forward to meeting my new friend Bill DeVoe, another owl guy on the South Rim. We had met on CouchSurfing, an online website for traveler. We had already so much in common that I ended the first conversation short simply saying that we had to meet. I'm certain that we clarified that we were on the same canyon rim, but after 2 hours of looking for each other we realized our obvious mistake. He had hiked this trail once before, and had completed it in 8.5 hours. That's records pace, and I was sure of that when he said so. I figured that I'd take somewhere between 10 and 12 hours, and looking at the time just then, decided that it'd be closer to 12 hours.
The sunset of oranges and reds faded into nightfall, and the stars began to light the sky. Resting every 15 minutes or so, we came across a couple of mule deer. They were walking along a steep rocky hill, foraging on the occasional spurt of foliage. A man strolled around the corner, and we pointed out the mulies to him. We spoke briefly, and he had offered up the trail crew cabin at Indian Springs seeing that he was "the man in charge". The offer was so tempting, but it was 20 minutes since we left there, and we'd be going back downhill. I had to finish! He looked at us like we were a little crazy... and we probably were, but on we went.
Up the steep hills, climbing our way closer to heaven, I began to feel like I was simply gliding along. I knew different, but it was a pleasant thought. Endorphins, HOORAH!!!! We started to tease each other about finding the elevator. And actually, there was supposivly an old elevator hidden from public view... somewhere along the trail. Before long we pulled out the headlamps, and continued in sheer darkness. The moon began to rise, and soon we could see a cream lit fog floating above the deep canyon below us. It was spectacular, perhaps even erie, but not to my notice or concern.
A few desert scorpions passed by, and the ledges grew even steeper. I pulled out the gps once again, and it said that we had 4,000ft to go. I looked up ahead of me, and the top only appeared about 1,500ft. Voices from the rim above hollered down, too muffled to make out words. I hollered back once, but decided to keep that bit of energy for my legs. They seemed to be having a great time, and with due luck, that would be Bill and a friend waiting to pick me up.
I was sure the instrument was wrong, must be canyon interference. Luckily, it was less than a mile to the trails end (I could agree with the GPS on that)! With new enthusiasm, we began to walk faster (or limp in my case), and within the next half an hour we reached what I had thought was the top. To my dismal dismay, the gps was certainly not wrong! Another 2,500ft cliff face now towered over us. So many times by now I had thought I had reached the top... but the damn thing keeps going!
I carelessly flopped down on the trail... in dried up mule poo... and did not care one bit. I layed their breathing with the full capacity of my lungs too tired to be disappointed. I recall back at the beginning of the trail telling myself to expect to simply hike forever. That there was no end, and if I ever reached one... it would be a surprise.
As I rounded another corner, a large flat boulder poked out above a sheer drop off. I had to laugh, "Hey look, that is SO nice of them! They give you the option to jump!" It certainly felt like an easier way out, but I was certainly just kidding.
"Hey... you know what, when I get to the top, I'm going to sing out Queens 'WE ARE THE CHAMPIONS', when we finally reach that top."
Time was endless, no beginning, no end. Just you in the moment, and you're smart you'll do something worthwhile with it. Since I knew that I would spend eternity hiking, neither of us had any shame in taking breaks every other switchback. William was quite entertaining, he always had to find the perfect rock to sit on, and made sure that he wasn't getting too dirty. Me on the other hand... I've had three river baths and was still covered in sweat, dirt caked on, sat in mule poo, and had already peed on myself that day. Like I cared where I sat!
"Hey Will... you see the elevator yet?"
Further down the trail, we turned around and noticed a small light coming up through the darkness of the canyon. For some reason thought it would be great to scare them. I stood by the trail (to prevent anyone from falling off) and William hid in the bush further back. When the light finally reached my, I was surprised to find three people following a meg light. They were friendly, and we talked for a sec. William jumped out, and we all got a great laugh out of it. Other than William, I hadn't seen another person on the desolate trail since Phantom Ranch, over 10 hours ago. We walked together for awhile, but the backpack-free, injury-free, well rested troop bombed right up that path.
William found this large flat boulder where we stretched out to look at the stars. I wish I knew my constellations better. The sky was full of shooting stars, I remember wishing only that I make it back to the top. They were beautiful.
It must have been less than 1,000ft to the top now, and we were taking our sweet tired ass time getting there. There was little energy left for excitement, as I was sure there would be another monument to climb beyond this rim.
Up and up we went, through an arch in the trail... way cool I thought as I hobbled on by. There were signs around it saying DANGER... but all I could think was that they were SIGNS OF LIFE!! Little glowing dots light up the lodges of the South Rim, and we knew that this was finally it. One last long rest on a log, we took in the vastness of a moonlit grand canyon, with Great Appreciation.
Like an old woman carrying an oxygen tank on her back and steadying her wobble with a cane, I walked the last few feet of the trail. With an awkward exasperated gasp of a drone, I began to sing, "we are The CHAMPIONS, WE ARE the chAmPIONS..." (and with the last of my breath), "of the world".
Solo to Indian Gardens
I waved goodbye to my friend Norman, the man with the Zebra Truck, as I crossed the long steel bridge over the Colorado River. The sun was high in the sky, and I still had at least another six hours of hiking. If all went well I would reach the South Rim of the Grand Canyon by 9 pm, having left at 5 am this morning. I quickly rounded the corner out of sight to re-adjust my backpack once again. It had become severely uncomfortable once again, and re-bending the metal support hadn’t worked. I didn’t want Norman to see that it was still bothering me, we both had a long ways to go and he didn’t need to worry about me. He had already given me a bag of skittles for the switchbacks up, his trick for getting young kids through a hike. I was also given $10, which I wouldn’t have taken except for the fact that I really needed it.
I through the bag high on my hips and let it hang loosely off my shoulders to relieve my back a bit. I had put on a blister bandage on my heel, which was much worse than I would have thought. I also put a bandage on top of that and stuffed the new heel hole in my shoes with a bit of bandage wrap.
Exhausted already, I had to stop numerous times to re-adjust bags and bandages, and to cool down in the shade. I found myself waiting until a cloud would blow over the sun, when I would dash into the next bit of shade and wait again. I never stood still very long, but in less than a minute I felt refreshed just enough to keep myself going.
I was following the mule trail, you could tell by the hoof prints and waste remnants. For about 2 miles I followed along the Colorado River before turning into a slot canyon to the South. A small stream followed along, which gave me a small peace of mind. As you probably know, water is scarce in the desert, and would be the number reason people don’t make it out.
Slowly the sun began to fall below the rim of the canyon, and cooled it in an instant. There were a few river crossings, but as I learned on the first, I had so little balance due to the heat it was pointless to avoid getting my shoes wet. I wan’t too pleased about getting my nice shoes mucked up, but I was too tired to care or even remember that they already had a hole in them.
Occasionally I would check the GPS to see just how much further I had to go. It made me feel great knowing exactly where I was, or at least less not feel as if I were lost. I hadn’t seen a single person since I left Phantom Ranch, and it didn’t look like I would.
For a long time I walked in a kind of limpy fashion, up and up I went, convincing myself that it was that much less that I would have to climb later. The trail opened up onto sandstone cliffs, and revealed an incredible view of the canyon, river, and the many miles that I had left behind. Occasionally the sun would peak back onto the trail, a striking contrast of heat to the mild air of the shade. The dry desert scrub began to turn into lush vegetation once again. It was similar to that around ribbon falls, except for it stretched vastly beyond my eyes reach. The desert began to come alive as I began to notice birds, reptiles, and insects once again.
Finally, nearly four hours later, I came upon a sign that pointed me towards Indian Gardens. The place was well named, it certainly did look like a garden in the desert.
I through the bag high on my hips and let it hang loosely off my shoulders to relieve my back a bit. I had put on a blister bandage on my heel, which was much worse than I would have thought. I also put a bandage on top of that and stuffed the new heel hole in my shoes with a bit of bandage wrap.
Exhausted already, I had to stop numerous times to re-adjust bags and bandages, and to cool down in the shade. I found myself waiting until a cloud would blow over the sun, when I would dash into the next bit of shade and wait again. I never stood still very long, but in less than a minute I felt refreshed just enough to keep myself going.
I was following the mule trail, you could tell by the hoof prints and waste remnants. For about 2 miles I followed along the Colorado River before turning into a slot canyon to the South. A small stream followed along, which gave me a small peace of mind. As you probably know, water is scarce in the desert, and would be the number reason people don’t make it out.
Slowly the sun began to fall below the rim of the canyon, and cooled it in an instant. There were a few river crossings, but as I learned on the first, I had so little balance due to the heat it was pointless to avoid getting my shoes wet. I wan’t too pleased about getting my nice shoes mucked up, but I was too tired to care or even remember that they already had a hole in them.
Occasionally I would check the GPS to see just how much further I had to go. It made me feel great knowing exactly where I was, or at least less not feel as if I were lost. I hadn’t seen a single person since I left Phantom Ranch, and it didn’t look like I would.
For a long time I walked in a kind of limpy fashion, up and up I went, convincing myself that it was that much less that I would have to climb later. The trail opened up onto sandstone cliffs, and revealed an incredible view of the canyon, river, and the many miles that I had left behind. Occasionally the sun would peak back onto the trail, a striking contrast of heat to the mild air of the shade. The dry desert scrub began to turn into lush vegetation once again. It was similar to that around ribbon falls, except for it stretched vastly beyond my eyes reach. The desert began to come alive as I began to notice birds, reptiles, and insects once again.
Finally, nearly four hours later, I came upon a sign that pointed me towards Indian Gardens. The place was well named, it certainly did look like a garden in the desert.
Monday, June 8, 2009
Phantom Ranch
Now only a few hours from the next watering station, I was becoming quite shaky, and we certainly in need of food and to rest! There was a lack of shade, and my backpack had begun digging itself a new hole into my back. My left heel was beginning to blister, and my calves were tired. Despite it all, and perhaps in light of slight dillusion, I was in good spirits and determined to carry on.
The next several hours were somewhat of a blur, I remember drinking lots of water, and shoving as much cliff bar at my face as I could. I also remember having to pee a lot. I was scouting out a spot, none of which were very hidden, and sent Norman ahead to stop anyone who might come along. I started pulling down my pants, and he peaked his head around the sandstone rock. With a very annoyed look I threw out my hands, "what?" I couldn't hear him, so I shooed him away and began again. Sure enough he popped his head back around in a slight panic and held the number 2 up. "Distract them!" I had to go! Once again I began to pee, and two more heads strolled out from behind the rock. I pulled myself back together and stood in annoyance waiting for the old man and perhaps his daughter to pass... They walked on by, found a little shade under a rock, sat down and stared at me in wonder. ERRRrrr.... I buttoned up with my back to them and walked a bit further down the trail. Luckily Norman had gone on his way, and I scouted out another "hole" in a crease in the rock. I squatted down on the rocky surface and finally began to relieve myself. ... but, to my surprise, the ground was hard enough for the urin to splash right back. Aww Man! Better yet, the wind blew up and sprinkled me from head to toe. Isn't that nice. Haha ( I can laugh now).
Once I met back up with Norman, I insisted in getting into the river (to wash off... i didn't tell him that). Back into the refreshing water, not only cooling my off, but my 2nd bath of the day. Nothing better to get off the sweat and urin of a hard day's hike.
Norman was telling me about the next camping ground, and promised we'd get lemon-aid and ice cream. We couldn't have been more than an hour away now. With thoughts of the next shade and ice cream... I arrived at Phantom Ranch in no time. I threw off my pack, and rushed back into the bathroom. This was about the 4th time I've had to go in the last hour. With the luxury of a flushing toilet, running water, SOAP, and a mirror, I had to celebrate by cleaning up (what a treat!).
I wobbled into the lodge, I was so very sore by then (not to mention the rash). Once again in 'civilization', I threw myself back into a chair that I never intended in getting up from. Norman ordered us lemon-aids as we looked around for ice cream. He inquired with a null response of, "Sir, do you know what kind of logistics it would take to get ice cream down here?"
It was well over 100 degrese, and we were miles from any ReAl sort of civilization. Not to mention we were in a no fly zone. All this in mind, they still seemed to have electricity, ice, and a large stash of candy bars (oh and steak dinners)?
A long rest, lemon-aid, a few tales about dumb deaths in the Grand Canyon, and numerous cany bars later, it was time for Norman and I to part. We walked out to the Colorado River together, and parted in the middle of the bridge with a wave goodbye. One of the best one day friends I've ever had, whom I probably won't ever see again.
The next several hours were somewhat of a blur, I remember drinking lots of water, and shoving as much cliff bar at my face as I could. I also remember having to pee a lot. I was scouting out a spot, none of which were very hidden, and sent Norman ahead to stop anyone who might come along. I started pulling down my pants, and he peaked his head around the sandstone rock. With a very annoyed look I threw out my hands, "what?" I couldn't hear him, so I shooed him away and began again. Sure enough he popped his head back around in a slight panic and held the number 2 up. "Distract them!" I had to go! Once again I began to pee, and two more heads strolled out from behind the rock. I pulled myself back together and stood in annoyance waiting for the old man and perhaps his daughter to pass... They walked on by, found a little shade under a rock, sat down and stared at me in wonder. ERRRrrr.... I buttoned up with my back to them and walked a bit further down the trail. Luckily Norman had gone on his way, and I scouted out another "hole" in a crease in the rock. I squatted down on the rocky surface and finally began to relieve myself. ... but, to my surprise, the ground was hard enough for the urin to splash right back. Aww Man! Better yet, the wind blew up and sprinkled me from head to toe. Isn't that nice. Haha ( I can laugh now).
Once I met back up with Norman, I insisted in getting into the river (to wash off... i didn't tell him that). Back into the refreshing water, not only cooling my off, but my 2nd bath of the day. Nothing better to get off the sweat and urin of a hard day's hike.
Norman was telling me about the next camping ground, and promised we'd get lemon-aid and ice cream. We couldn't have been more than an hour away now. With thoughts of the next shade and ice cream... I arrived at Phantom Ranch in no time. I threw off my pack, and rushed back into the bathroom. This was about the 4th time I've had to go in the last hour. With the luxury of a flushing toilet, running water, SOAP, and a mirror, I had to celebrate by cleaning up (what a treat!).
I wobbled into the lodge, I was so very sore by then (not to mention the rash). Once again in 'civilization', I threw myself back into a chair that I never intended in getting up from. Norman ordered us lemon-aids as we looked around for ice cream. He inquired with a null response of, "Sir, do you know what kind of logistics it would take to get ice cream down here?"
It was well over 100 degrese, and we were miles from any ReAl sort of civilization. Not to mention we were in a no fly zone. All this in mind, they still seemed to have electricity, ice, and a large stash of candy bars (oh and steak dinners)?
A long rest, lemon-aid, a few tales about dumb deaths in the Grand Canyon, and numerous cany bars later, it was time for Norman and I to part. We walked out to the Colorado River together, and parted in the middle of the bridge with a wave goodbye. One of the best one day friends I've ever had, whom I probably won't ever see again.
Ribbon Falls
It wasn't long before the cool water on my dripping clothes evaporated into the atmosphere. I had already gone through nearly 3 liters of water, a bag of gorp (good ol' raisins and peanuts), several cliff bars (AWESOME!), and my potato breakfast. I can't say I ever felt hungry, by by body would shake and I would grow tired, until i crunched down on some food, an instant re-energizer. As we walked we came upon a fork in the road... I don't remember there being a fork on the trail. Of course it's natural to take the trail going Down Hill. The sign said ribbon falls, which was probably not much more than a drizzle off of a rock. Norman took off ahead, and I found a nice place in the shade of a rock. There was no fork from the North Kaibab trail, but I did find ribbon falls. Despite my urge to play in the water, I wasn't impressed by the idea of a waterfall in the desert, and was ready to head uptrail to find more shade. I looked aroud for Norman... and he was gone!
I wondered over the bridge away from the trail into desert scrub. I stuck my ear out into the desert silence. Nothing. I got a strange feeling, maybe a bit of paranoia, but I felt that going off trail alone to find some guy who I hardly know... might be a bad idea. I sat and waited, looking all around for some sign of Norman. A large group of people passed by, and made their way towards the waterfall. Well, I suppose if he doesn't come back, I'll keep on going and tell the rangers on the other side that he disappeared. Not a moment later, Norman popped his head over the bridge, and was telling me all about the cool side canyon ahead. Another lady followed him saying that it was just 300m over that way, she pointed. So we headed towards the canyon, which seemed to be miles away, but before I knew it, I was back in the cool shade and vegetation of a slot canyon. A small river poured out, and I felt the heat melt away from my head. Pools of tadpoles were all around, frogs were still mating in the pools, and dragonflies buzzed around. It was like a little oasis in the middle of a desert.
Up and around giant sandstone boulders we climbed, and there before us was the most incredible waterfall I've ever seen. More than just a drip, buckets of water poured down a sandstone face onto a mound of minerals, which was covered by hanging gardens. Columbines flowered on the cliff faces, and a maze of greenery led the flow of the waterfall down the mound into a 10 foot wide pool. There were cave entrances amongst the wall of water and greenery, and peep holes along its side. I tossed a hand full of gorp into my mouth to regain strength, and ducked under the drizzling entrance. Inside was full of green growth, and a private underground pool of aqua teal blue. Beams of light shown through in brilliant rays, and light the mysterious wonder.
I climbed out, urging Norman in, and snapped a quick photo of him peeping out one of the holes in his brim leather hat. I splashed around in the pool before heading to the top of the plant covered mineral mound about 15 feet up. From there you could see well into the Grand Canyon beyond and could enjoy its wonder from the cool waterfall oasis. There was another small pool of water on top of the mound where the falls landed before trickling through the vegitation. Lime green mosses and a garden of greenery all around. Norman leaned back into the splash of the falls, and I took a few great photos of the water spewing off of the rim of his hat.
I wondered over the bridge away from the trail into desert scrub. I stuck my ear out into the desert silence. Nothing. I got a strange feeling, maybe a bit of paranoia, but I felt that going off trail alone to find some guy who I hardly know... might be a bad idea. I sat and waited, looking all around for some sign of Norman. A large group of people passed by, and made their way towards the waterfall. Well, I suppose if he doesn't come back, I'll keep on going and tell the rangers on the other side that he disappeared. Not a moment later, Norman popped his head over the bridge, and was telling me all about the cool side canyon ahead. Another lady followed him saying that it was just 300m over that way, she pointed. So we headed towards the canyon, which seemed to be miles away, but before I knew it, I was back in the cool shade and vegetation of a slot canyon. A small river poured out, and I felt the heat melt away from my head. Pools of tadpoles were all around, frogs were still mating in the pools, and dragonflies buzzed around. It was like a little oasis in the middle of a desert.
Up and around giant sandstone boulders we climbed, and there before us was the most incredible waterfall I've ever seen. More than just a drip, buckets of water poured down a sandstone face onto a mound of minerals, which was covered by hanging gardens. Columbines flowered on the cliff faces, and a maze of greenery led the flow of the waterfall down the mound into a 10 foot wide pool. There were cave entrances amongst the wall of water and greenery, and peep holes along its side. I tossed a hand full of gorp into my mouth to regain strength, and ducked under the drizzling entrance. Inside was full of green growth, and a private underground pool of aqua teal blue. Beams of light shown through in brilliant rays, and light the mysterious wonder.
I climbed out, urging Norman in, and snapped a quick photo of him peeping out one of the holes in his brim leather hat. I splashed around in the pool before heading to the top of the plant covered mineral mound about 15 feet up. From there you could see well into the Grand Canyon beyond and could enjoy its wonder from the cool waterfall oasis. There was another small pool of water on top of the mound where the falls landed before trickling through the vegitation. Lime green mosses and a garden of greenery all around. Norman leaned back into the splash of the falls, and I took a few great photos of the water spewing off of the rim of his hat.
Friday, June 5, 2009
Decending the Grand Canyon
Now 4:30 am, Tuesday morning... Time to get up! It's The Big Day. I stared down at my clothes laying on my tupperware box (aka closet), I was nice and warm in my sleeping bag (thanks to potatoes and foil), and I couldn't find the motivation to put on ice cold clothing. I managed to grab them up in a quick stretch and snuggle them into the bag with me.
By 5:20 I was at the trail head of the North Kaibab, the trail that would take me 26 miles through the contours of a massive desert, across the Grand Canyon. I pulled up next to the zebra truck belonging to my new friend Norman. As I finished the potato that I used to heat my sleeping bag that night, I threw my backpack up over my shoulders, ready to go. Norman handed me a boiled egg... which I just threw in the pack, and we were off on our adventure.
It was so exciting, having no idea what I was getting myself into. This must have been one of the biggest, and maybe stupidest challenges that I jumped into... having no game plan whatsoever. We headed down the trail in the chilly morning, as the canyon began to reveal itself behind cliffs and conifer. The sun began to rise, warming the red cliff faces and bringing their character to life. There is simply so much to take in, you can do nothing but stare into it's vastness. The walk down was pleasently cool and shady. Norman began talking about the layers and history of the canyon, and we shared our excitement about the unknown. Luckily for him, he had been there before. It was 20 years ago, but he had been on the hike. Being from montana, the land of snow, I knew a few tricks about the desert, but I was certainly grateful to have someone who did know what they were getting into.
We met a large group of marathon runners, off on a ladies day out. We kind of leap frogged them for most of the way. And there were two young "cowboys", who also didn't seem to know what they would be up against. We marched along the trail enjoying the wonders of the canyon... everything seemed to be having sex. The agave plants had shoots two inches thick that stood maybe 9 feet above the plants, which may have been only 2 feet tall to begin with. Norman told me that sometimes they store up energy in their roots for 10 years before they are able to produce that flower structure. The blossoms were buzzing with insects, my mistake for shaking it.. whoops... We found a baby rattle snake curled up on a rock along the trail, he looked too cold to move. But that wouldn't last for long.
I had already begun to tell this very story, about how I met this guy with a zebra truck and just decided to hike the grand canyon with him. I would re-iterate the silly things we had done, but always ending with "little did I know...." I had a feeling that this would certainly be an epic adventure, with the fun part being that I didn't know how it would go.
The day grew hotter and I began stripping of my thermal layers and jacket. The hike down was seemingly easy, but I knew it wouldn't be like that for long. We steadily walked down the path as we found ourselves leaving the enormous slot canyon. The sun stretched its rays a crossed us, and by 10:00 am it was nearly 80 degrees. The trail wound around the red rock layers in a smooth curvy fashion, down and down it went. Closer to 11:00, we found ourselves falling to a cooler gully, one in which large trees still grew. So it was no surprise that we had reached our first campground, Cottonwood.
I instantly threw off my pack, plopped down, and tossed my feet into the air. Put The Blood Back into my Body! The cool shade of the cottonwood trees cooled the heat of the day from my body, and I gulped in water like a camel in the desert. No surprise there. I think during this whole trip I would consume over 6 liters of water... and still be thirsty.
After a nice break, we were soon on our way again, back in the desert heat. It wasn't long before we came upon spring creek, a temptation that was simply irresistible. I slapped on my tevas, oh how nice it was to get off those tennies, and plunged into the refreshingly cool water. At first I was thinking i would just wet my feet, but that didn't last long. I doused my bandana, then my hair, and then just plunged in! WHOOOEEE!! Chilly water, but ooo so nice. I floated up in bliss, and lay there for a while.
Back on with the dusty shoes, and the pack. Made me feel like a mule. The day was growing hotter, getting towards 107 degrese, and my soaked clothing wouldn't stay that way for long. Down the path we went, in near solitude the entire way. The lizards of the desert scattered across the desert floor, coming in every color you could imagine. A bright yellow tail caught my eye, which belonged to a multi colored reptile with a red and blue body. There were short black midget ones, who must have just hatched, fat headed horny ones, green, blue, black, striped and spotted. They are so funny to watch too and the squirm around in a frazzle. Like they don't know what they are doing. Especially when you try to catch them. I caught one in my towel once, and it was so squirmish it kinda freaked me out and I let it go. Survival of the fittest I guess.
By 5:20 I was at the trail head of the North Kaibab, the trail that would take me 26 miles through the contours of a massive desert, across the Grand Canyon. I pulled up next to the zebra truck belonging to my new friend Norman. As I finished the potato that I used to heat my sleeping bag that night, I threw my backpack up over my shoulders, ready to go. Norman handed me a boiled egg... which I just threw in the pack, and we were off on our adventure.
It was so exciting, having no idea what I was getting myself into. This must have been one of the biggest, and maybe stupidest challenges that I jumped into... having no game plan whatsoever. We headed down the trail in the chilly morning, as the canyon began to reveal itself behind cliffs and conifer. The sun began to rise, warming the red cliff faces and bringing their character to life. There is simply so much to take in, you can do nothing but stare into it's vastness. The walk down was pleasently cool and shady. Norman began talking about the layers and history of the canyon, and we shared our excitement about the unknown. Luckily for him, he had been there before. It was 20 years ago, but he had been on the hike. Being from montana, the land of snow, I knew a few tricks about the desert, but I was certainly grateful to have someone who did know what they were getting into.
We met a large group of marathon runners, off on a ladies day out. We kind of leap frogged them for most of the way. And there were two young "cowboys", who also didn't seem to know what they would be up against. We marched along the trail enjoying the wonders of the canyon... everything seemed to be having sex. The agave plants had shoots two inches thick that stood maybe 9 feet above the plants, which may have been only 2 feet tall to begin with. Norman told me that sometimes they store up energy in their roots for 10 years before they are able to produce that flower structure. The blossoms were buzzing with insects, my mistake for shaking it.. whoops... We found a baby rattle snake curled up on a rock along the trail, he looked too cold to move. But that wouldn't last for long.
I had already begun to tell this very story, about how I met this guy with a zebra truck and just decided to hike the grand canyon with him. I would re-iterate the silly things we had done, but always ending with "little did I know...." I had a feeling that this would certainly be an epic adventure, with the fun part being that I didn't know how it would go.
The day grew hotter and I began stripping of my thermal layers and jacket. The hike down was seemingly easy, but I knew it wouldn't be like that for long. We steadily walked down the path as we found ourselves leaving the enormous slot canyon. The sun stretched its rays a crossed us, and by 10:00 am it was nearly 80 degrees. The trail wound around the red rock layers in a smooth curvy fashion, down and down it went. Closer to 11:00, we found ourselves falling to a cooler gully, one in which large trees still grew. So it was no surprise that we had reached our first campground, Cottonwood.
I instantly threw off my pack, plopped down, and tossed my feet into the air. Put The Blood Back into my Body! The cool shade of the cottonwood trees cooled the heat of the day from my body, and I gulped in water like a camel in the desert. No surprise there. I think during this whole trip I would consume over 6 liters of water... and still be thirsty.
After a nice break, we were soon on our way again, back in the desert heat. It wasn't long before we came upon spring creek, a temptation that was simply irresistible. I slapped on my tevas, oh how nice it was to get off those tennies, and plunged into the refreshingly cool water. At first I was thinking i would just wet my feet, but that didn't last long. I doused my bandana, then my hair, and then just plunged in! WHOOOEEE!! Chilly water, but ooo so nice. I floated up in bliss, and lay there for a while.
Back on with the dusty shoes, and the pack. Made me feel like a mule. The day was growing hotter, getting towards 107 degrese, and my soaked clothing wouldn't stay that way for long. Down the path we went, in near solitude the entire way. The lizards of the desert scattered across the desert floor, coming in every color you could imagine. A bright yellow tail caught my eye, which belonged to a multi colored reptile with a red and blue body. There were short black midget ones, who must have just hatched, fat headed horny ones, green, blue, black, striped and spotted. They are so funny to watch too and the squirm around in a frazzle. Like they don't know what they are doing. Especially when you try to catch them. I caught one in my towel once, and it was so squirmish it kinda freaked me out and I let it go. Survival of the fittest I guess.
Thursday, June 4, 2009
Trip Prep: foil, garbage bags, and death
I ran off to the Grand Canyon General Store (expensive) and bought garbage bags and foil. Unfortunately their credit card machine didn't work, so I had to use the atm (at the charge of $3 from the atm, and $2 from my bank ahh... the purchase was only $7, but I had to have these things).
I've been a little chilly at night, at 8,000 ft it can still get below freezing at night, even in the desert. I've watched frost form on the plants a few nights while out searching for owls. So, what I googled it! How to keep warm while winter camping... actually I found several methods: DONT BREATHE IN THE BAG (moisture makes you loose more heat than you gain), get a silk liner, puff up the bag every time before you go to sleep, fill a water bottle with hot water, wrap your feet in fleece, tarp over the tent, prevent sweating, etc... I also came up with some of my own ideas. I've started to cook potatoes in the fire at night, wrapped in foil. I cook a nice warm dinner for myself (another helpful hint), and throw some spares in there for my sleeping bag. I stick the potatoes in a wool sock by my feet, and keep warm with the warm smell of food in my bag :) (and not fire). Ever since, I've used several of these techniques and stay nice and warm at night.
So anyways, I bought foil for dinner/warmth, and the garbage bags as a nice alternative for a tent. At camp, I stuffed my yellow back pack with nothing but light essentials... sleeping bag, food, water, gps, and a map. I called over my co-worker Tyler, "... if I die while I'm gone, here is the contact info for who I'll be meeting with. There's a guy with a zebra truck, and I'll be meeting up with the HOOTERS crew on the South Rim. After that, depending on how I feel, I'll either hike the Grand Canyon Again, or hitch hike around." He looked at me a little austounded... " Don't worry, you don't have to do anything. But if I don't show up for work, you'll have some info for someone to start looking." I was kind of kidding, but at the same time, thought it was pretty important. I knew what I was doing was a bit insane, but despite all the people I talk to about it, no one seemed to say so.
I've been a little chilly at night, at 8,000 ft it can still get below freezing at night, even in the desert. I've watched frost form on the plants a few nights while out searching for owls. So, what I googled it! How to keep warm while winter camping... actually I found several methods: DONT BREATHE IN THE BAG (moisture makes you loose more heat than you gain), get a silk liner, puff up the bag every time before you go to sleep, fill a water bottle with hot water, wrap your feet in fleece, tarp over the tent, prevent sweating, etc... I also came up with some of my own ideas. I've started to cook potatoes in the fire at night, wrapped in foil. I cook a nice warm dinner for myself (another helpful hint), and throw some spares in there for my sleeping bag. I stick the potatoes in a wool sock by my feet, and keep warm with the warm smell of food in my bag :) (and not fire). Ever since, I've used several of these techniques and stay nice and warm at night.
So anyways, I bought foil for dinner/warmth, and the garbage bags as a nice alternative for a tent. At camp, I stuffed my yellow back pack with nothing but light essentials... sleeping bag, food, water, gps, and a map. I called over my co-worker Tyler, "... if I die while I'm gone, here is the contact info for who I'll be meeting with. There's a guy with a zebra truck, and I'll be meeting up with the HOOTERS crew on the South Rim. After that, depending on how I feel, I'll either hike the Grand Canyon Again, or hitch hike around." He looked at me a little austounded... " Don't worry, you don't have to do anything. But if I don't show up for work, you'll have some info for someone to start looking." I was kind of kidding, but at the same time, thought it was pretty important. I knew what I was doing was a bit insane, but despite all the people I talk to about it, no one seemed to say so.
One and 1/2 day Friend
His name is Norman Geiger, a school teacher from Flagstaff, Arizona. Although, he is known to me as "The guy with the Zebra Striped Truck", he became a most memorable one-day friend.
Now I kind of cheat when I call him a one day friend, he was really more like a 1 and 1/2 day friend. As we sat staring out at the beauty of the canyon, I sipped coffee out of my plastic tea cup while he had his out of his only kitchen pan. To anyone else this may have looked strange, but there is just something special about only having what you need.
We talked the usual talk, found out he instructs at a high school, and knows a thing or two about geology. I told him all about Montana and the crazy things I've done in New Zealand, Ecuador and Australia.
He showed me the different layers of rock in the canyon (which I mentioned earlier, photos below), and taught me about fossils, caves, and ages of the rock layers. After a long time of talking (and analyzing his personality... a zebra truck?), we decide to hike from rim to rim in the Grand Canyon. A 26 mile feat... in a day.
The Supai rock layer is between 600 and 700 feet deep, and is about 300 million years old. Looking at the canyon from the rim, it appears to be half the size of my pinky finger.
If you look to the top of the rim, right below the sheer cliff is the Supi layer. It has the trees on a mild slope.
Now I kind of cheat when I call him a one day friend, he was really more like a 1 and 1/2 day friend. As we sat staring out at the beauty of the canyon, I sipped coffee out of my plastic tea cup while he had his out of his only kitchen pan. To anyone else this may have looked strange, but there is just something special about only having what you need.
We talked the usual talk, found out he instructs at a high school, and knows a thing or two about geology. I told him all about Montana and the crazy things I've done in New Zealand, Ecuador and Australia.
He showed me the different layers of rock in the canyon (which I mentioned earlier, photos below), and taught me about fossils, caves, and ages of the rock layers. After a long time of talking (and analyzing his personality... a zebra truck?), we decide to hike from rim to rim in the Grand Canyon. A 26 mile feat... in a day.
The Supai rock layer is between 600 and 700 feet deep, and is about 300 million years old. Looking at the canyon from the rim, it appears to be half the size of my pinky finger.
If you look to the top of the rim, right below the sheer cliff is the Supi layer. It has the trees on a mild slope.
The Beginning: Cape Royal
I picked up that guitar and played my heart out sitting on the farthest most point into the Grand Canyon. The rims were chalked with shades of red dust, layer upon layer, for more than a mile below. White-throated swifts soared above likely looking for a morning meal, insects I would guess. As the sun rose behind one of the plateaus, lighting its shape in a halo and turning the rest of the world to shimmering gold.
I drove further up the trail to Cape Royal, hoping to shoot a few more shots before the light grew dull. As I pulled into the parking lot, there was zebra striped toyota, the only other car in the lot. I sure with I had one of those when I was a kid. Actually I had always wanted a VW bug with pink paint and black polka dots. The truck had been down the road earlier, and I though I had been disturbin the driver... I thouht he might be doing maintance or something...
Trying not to bother him, I shuffled to the bathroom to kill some time, but I came to find that he was in the only path that led to the rim. I snuck on through and politely commented about the view. To my surprise, he replied,"Would you like some coffee?" and that is this whole story began...
I drove further up the trail to Cape Royal, hoping to shoot a few more shots before the light grew dull. As I pulled into the parking lot, there was zebra striped toyota, the only other car in the lot. I sure with I had one of those when I was a kid. Actually I had always wanted a VW bug with pink paint and black polka dots. The truck had been down the road earlier, and I though I had been disturbin the driver... I thouht he might be doing maintance or something...
Trying not to bother him, I shuffled to the bathroom to kill some time, but I came to find that he was in the only path that led to the rim. I snuck on through and politely commented about the view. To my surprise, he replied,"Would you like some coffee?" and that is this whole story began...
KTCHSRMBT: Meeting the Grand Canyon
So here I am at the North Rim of the Grand Canyon, might I frankly say, the less popular side. Which to many people means getting the real outdoor experience with less tourism and cheesy stops to make. Well, its one thing to visit a place and move on to the next, but living in a "town" that could have a population of 60 at most (few of which I know), it's becomes more to find weekend thill.
I decided to wake up extra early on Monday morning so that I could drive out the other side of the rim to Cape Royal and photograph the early morning sunrise. I was well rested after an intense 10 days of training with the HOOTERS, and found myself wide awake at nearly 5am. I quickly climbed out of my sleeping bag, ran to the loo, and hopped into my grand am to switch on the engine. I managed to sneak out of camp even before the international trail who are well known for their Early Morning trail work.
The sky was bright with early rays of the sun as I drove through the lush green forests. Two mule deer pranced along the road and simply stared as I slowly rolled by. I felt my soul dancing with the music as I cruised along the forest roads on the rim of the canyon.
Looking towards the canyon, Angels Window, a curious hole in the sandstone caught my eye. I pulled off the road, grabbed my guitar, and took off towards the view. The earth opened before my eyes to reveal the deep core layers below: Kaibab Limestone, Toroweap Formation, Cononino Sandstone, Hermit Shale, Supi Formation, Redwall Limestone, Muay Limestone, Bright Angle Shale, and Tapeats Sandstone. These are names I would later learn, along with their importance for both scale and measurement within ...
I decided to wake up extra early on Monday morning so that I could drive out the other side of the rim to Cape Royal and photograph the early morning sunrise. I was well rested after an intense 10 days of training with the HOOTERS, and found myself wide awake at nearly 5am. I quickly climbed out of my sleeping bag, ran to the loo, and hopped into my grand am to switch on the engine. I managed to sneak out of camp even before the international trail who are well known for their Early Morning trail work.
The sky was bright with early rays of the sun as I drove through the lush green forests. Two mule deer pranced along the road and simply stared as I slowly rolled by. I felt my soul dancing with the music as I cruised along the forest roads on the rim of the canyon.
Looking towards the canyon, Angels Window, a curious hole in the sandstone caught my eye. I pulled off the road, grabbed my guitar, and took off towards the view. The earth opened before my eyes to reveal the deep core layers below: Kaibab Limestone, Toroweap Formation, Cononino Sandstone, Hermit Shale, Supi Formation, Redwall Limestone, Muay Limestone, Bright Angle Shale, and Tapeats Sandstone. These are names I would later learn, along with their importance for both scale and measurement within ...
| Know | Kaibab Limestone |
| The | Toroweap Formation |
| Canyon's | Coconino Sandstone |
| History, | Hermit Shale |
| Study | Supai Formation |
| Rocks | Redwall Limestone |
| Made | Muav Limestone |
| By | Bright Angel Shale |
| Time | Tapeats Sandstone |
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)