One of many
trip reports under the
SilGro home page for Alan Silverstein and Cathie
Grow.
Email me at
ajs@frii.com.
Last update: August 6, 2024
(Previous trip report: 1991_0312-19_CanoeGreenRiver.htm)
"How to spend an extraordinary half day; or, my third trip to the bottom of the Grand Canyon, and once again I didn't even spend the night."
So there we were, Sherry Perkins and me, sitting in a Mexican restaurant in Phoenix at about 2 pm on a Sunday afternoon. Our five day Spring Fling, planned two days before our departure, had already taken us from Tucson to Nogales, shopping across the border in Mexico, and into fantastic saguaro desert scenery along the Pinal Pioneer Parkway. We were headed next for the Grand Canyon. The question was whether to hike it on Monday, or mellow out and wait until the fourth day of our trip. The weather forecast said bad weather was approaching. We made a good decision, sort of, and spent the afternoon racing to the South Rim. Sherry got her first ever look at the Canyon just after sunset from Mather Point.
(If you have never visited the Canyon, it's time you did. 'Nuff said.)
Too early the next morning at the Mather Campground, we decided to sleep in another half hour. It was cold, about 25 deg F. Forget starting down at 0600, 35 minutes before sunrise. We settled for 0700, by which time we'd warmed up a little and witnessed first light from Bright Angel Lodge, 6860'. We were both nervous about the scope of the adventure ahead.
There were only two well-maintained ("corridor") trails from the South Rim, the Bright Angel Trail and the South Kaibab Trail. But they were excellent trails indeed. The sandstone, limestone, and slate of the upper Canyon was soft material that formed bouncy, nearly rock-free trails. Those two featured steady grades, numerous switchbacks, wide footpaths -- and often sheer dropoffs on the outside edges.
The first 1.5 miles or so down the Bright Angel Trail was frequently treacherous with hard-packed, slippery snow. The side-canyon faced north and has little sun exposure. We started down slowly and carefully, under a cloudless blue sky, and paced ourselves throughout the day. Cold, deep in shadows, we wound down and down.
At "Three Mile House", one of the few shelters on the round trip, we sat on a point and peered over a cliff. The sunny, lime-green trees of Indian Gardens beckoned below, as they had from the rim, always further away than you'd guess. We looked down on exaggerated switchbacks on what appeared to be flat terrain. We departed toward the Gardens again at 0905, and were quickly surprised at how steep the hillside really was.
Hiking in the Canyon was like moving slowly through the pages of a book of rainbows. It's not just that the trail passed through myriad colorful rock layers. One's current "page", and the surrounding "pages", appeared much thicker and richer than anticipated. Meanwhile all the "chapters" above and below you were foreshortened, flattened by perspective. I suppose that sort of myopia is a normal side effect of being a moving point in space and time, but in the Canyon it's especially noticeable.
After a break at Indian Gardens, 3800', we continued into the Inner Gorge at 1005. My previous (and only) time on this trail was 15 years ago, uphill, late in the day, so I barely remembered it. We meandered down a deepening gully past some small waterfalls, to a spectacular swing around a point to view deeply shadowed crags. As I expected we lost sight of the rim of the upper canyon, and only spotted it at occasional points along the river.
How long to the river? Tired toes, tired calf muscles from the pounding. The day grew decidedly warmer. Finally we were there at 1125, 2400', 4:25 to drop 4460' in 7.8 miles. On the Bright Angel there was no view of the river until we reached it, and it was hard to tell how much further it was.
Muddy brown, the mighty Colorado passed before us. It was equidistant from here to the rim, either retracing our steps or following the river upstream 1.5 miles to the South Kaibab Trail, but that way meant about 400' more vertical. With little hesitation, looking way ahead to sunset but wanting to hike both trails, we turned right along the river.
The route started immediately and sharply uphill. Like so many sections of the canyon trails, it had been blasted out of the cliff in most spots. Pretty soon we were several hundred feet (straight down) above the river. I knew we would have to drop back to it. And so we did, with a shortcut across the floodplain, to rest, soak our feet, and eat lunch on the rounded riverside rocks below the impressive Silver Bridge.
There were two suspension footbridges across the river in the area, each visible from the other, both huge, sweeping, and graceful. The Silver Bridge, downstream, had an open metal mesh floor. Crossing it at 1245 I looked down a long ways past my feet to the river. On the north side there were numerous structures, including a set of small barns for mules (did I mention the occasional odor of mule piss on the trail?) The signs of mankind are everywhere, from the ancient Anasazi ruins to the touch tone phone(!) (I called my father to wish him a happy birthday.)
We encountered scores of people throughout the day too, nearly all of them staying overnight at Phantom Ranch or the nearby Bright Angel Campground. (Reservations required 6-12 months in advance...) The harder time they were having of it, the more impressed they were that we were making the round trip in a single day. ("Not recommended" by the Park Service.)
Hiking the canyon was like climbing a mountain in reverse. We were overprepared for it, and advisedly so. We began with five liters of water, refilled three at the hose next to the bridge across Bright Angel Creek, and drank all of it before exiting. About a gallon apiece, and it wasn't even a hot day. It sure helped us maintain our energy. I wondered how the hike out would go, resting there at the bottom, already rather tired.
At 1335 we crossed the Black Bridge and started up the South Kaibab Trail. A train of mules and riders, fortunately the only one we suffered with that day, waited for us to clear the bridge. It was about 70 deg F, felt hot, and it was dusty. How long would we spend on the 6.3 miles uphill?
Slow, slow, pace ourselves. Magnificent scenery all the way. The South Kaibab trail was much prettier than the Bright Angel. A bit steeper, but that was nice on the way out. In the summertime they're right to say you should descend the Kaibab first and then climb the Bright Angel for shade and water. But in the sane time of year to walk the Canyon, I'm convinced our direction was ideal. Easy on the knees in the morning, and steady climbing going home.
Switchbacks, loops, cliffs, and, unlike the other trail, signs about the rock layers through which we passed. Tremendous views down to the river until we gained the Tipoff, the lip of the Inner Gorge. Strolling uphill often turned exotic as I suddenly realized I was a foot from a precipice I hadn't noticed a moment before. There were no guard rails!
Looking back on the trail we had just completed was stunning, surreal. Looking up, we couldn't imagine how the ribbon would continue through the vertical faces. It was a very small, insignificant feeling, to realize how relatively narrow and invisible a path sufficed to carry us through the enormous walls.
"Let's see, 1:20 to gain the first 1300' -- OK , we're going to make it." We picked up speed! The Inner Gorge took so long; then it went faster. After a boots-off break on the Tonto Platform, we didn't need a second one.
We met our last hikers of the day, some out-of-shape older folks struggling downwards to spend the night below, as we passed through the Redwall limestone at 4700' (the most prominent cliff layer in the Canyon). After that we were all alone to the rim, up through the Supai, Hermit, Coconino (another cliff, this one white), Toroweap, and Kaibab formations.
We paused to watch the sunset at 1836, long shadows and vivid pink, from a ridge overlook not far below the rim. Then onwards to the trailhead -- "can we get there before dark?" We swung around the sunward side of the cliffs below Yaki Point. A little mud but no snow. The final switchbacks, yes those were icy and tricky. Not very far though, just ten minutes to the top. We popped out at 1905, exuberant, laughing. Over 15.6 miles, 12 hours and 5 minutes, at least 5000' total gain. The moon and Venus near each other in the twilit sky, and there below, Mercury twinkling too. Cool, quiet, growing darker.
The trailhead was deserted but for a used car lot of empty vehicles. We were surprised. We were also three miles from the campground and five miles from our car at the Bright Angel Lodge... Oops. We felt pretty macho, but our toes hurt. Rather than walk back, or chance hitching a ride, we called Fred Harvey Transportation -- the concessionaire -- for a taxi, and rode back in style for 10 bucks. In time for dinner at Maswik Cafeteria, but too late for a shower, we crashed in a campsite that was already taken, as it turned out, but the prior owners sensed our condition and were nice enough to share the spot.
We had trouble walking for two days afterwards (but we did anyway, like 3.5 miles around the Great Meteor Crater on Wednesday). [2023: Back then it was legal to walk the rim! Not any more.] I had knotted calf muscles. I'm not sure where we went wrong...
Some quotable quotes: Sherry, on Cedar Ridge crossing a very steep slope above Redwall cliffs: "This would really be a bitch without a trail." Alan, driving back from Bright Angel to the campground: "I need a shower so bad I can taste it."
Tuesday it snowed, a blizzard. We hung on to the rail against the bitter wind, catching glimpses of our descent route from the Bright Angel overlook point. We drove east through a whiteout, missing most of the scenery along the South Rim, onwards to other adventures.
(Next trip report: 1991_0705-14_HawaiiEclipse.htm)