"Seems smaller than we imaged" we both agreed as we gazed into the 10-mile wide, mile deep chasm before us.
We started our adventure the previous night, in good style, leaving the Bay Area promptly after work and obtaining caffeine. Driving until after midnight, we turned off onto the first unpaved road in the Mojave National Preserve. Others seemed to have had the same idea, as we passed a tent pitched next to a Prius. After crawling into our sleeping bag, at least two more cars with those seeking overnight accommodations of the best kind drove past.
After a morning of driving, we caught our first good views of the Grand Canyon after pulling into the Desert View viewpoint. Without a doubt, even with the haze shrouding the canyon, the landscape before our eyes was remarkable. 5 millions of years of erosion, preceded by 2 billion years of rock deposition, had created a work of art, using the finest pigments and most captivating of brush strokes.
|Purple cacti at the bottom of the canyon.|
As we continued on our preliminary car-tour of the rim, we marveled at the reds, yellows, oranges, and purples. As the sun set, we made our way to Grand Canyon Village to find a room for the night. Expecting there would be no-one here, we were in for a surprise. The guidebook assured us that the winter season brought with it a lull in visitors. Seemingly, we had not taken the holiday weekend into account. The rooms were few and the rates steep, but we wanted to be well rested for what was to come.
Being assured by a ranger at the Backcountry Information Center that the North Rim would only have a couple more inches of snow than the South, we left our snowshoes in the Jeep, strapped on our packs and proceeded towards the Bright Angel Trailhead. Shortly after dipping below the rim, we strapped on our Microspikes to help in negotiating the snow packed and icy trail. Despite plenty of warnings from staff, signs, and the availability of traction devices in every gift shop, some visitors opted to descend with nothing more than their tennis shoes. Those that did, slid rather then walked and risked plummeting hundreds of feet should the slip.
We made short work of the descent to Indian Gardens campground where we set up our tent, ate lunch, and set out for a hike to Plateau Point. Though we initially thought this would be a 6 mile out and back, we reached the rim of the inner gorge in less than one and a half miles. Early as it was, we had plenty of time to watch as a group of rafters prepared to continue on their course down the Colorado 160 stories below us. After resting on a sandbar, they took their precious time to urinate in the river (in canyons with swift moving water this is the most environmentally minded option), put on their wetsuits, another waterproof layer, check all the straps, then re-check, and finally, after about an hour, continue on their journey. Watching them go over Horn Creek Rapids was a bit anti-climactic, though I'm sure to them, being tossed out of their seats as their rafts dropped a few feet over raging water was much more of an adrenaline rush.
Returning to our tent, we found that the campground now had many more residents. We thought we would be the only ones there, but alas. As the sun set, the campground fell silent as all the campers made their way to bed long before official quiet hours.
With morning light, we started our way down to the banks of the Colorado and through Phantom Ranch and Bright Angel Campground. Complete with a full service restaurant and a laundry facility, Phantom Ranch was the destination for most visitors to the inner canyon. For us, however, this was less than half way. After stashing some food behind the ranger station, we continued down the North Kaibab trail as the rain, which started just before we crossed the bridge, intensified.
In the morning, we found our tent to be frozen. As the temperature was still low, there was no chance of thawing any time soon, but our plan was to stash the tent anyways as our destination for the day was the North Rim Yurt, about 7 miles away and 4100 feet higher. Another couple, with plans similar to ours asked what we knew about the snow conditions. They informed us that the rangers had told them the snow was much deeper than we thought. We wished each other luck and offered them to stay in the Yurt with us, should they make it to the top.
The day was sunny, and the temperature was perfect for an uphill hike and we started off with a good pace. Along the way we met a hiker who had snowshoed to the rim just that morning and he confirmed our worst fears. The snow, he informed us, would be waist deep in places. We came across another hiker, wearing shorts, a t-shirt, and huge gloves. We hiked with him for a bit until he decided to turn around as the snow got deeper and deeper.
|Breathtaking views from the North Kaibab Trail.|
As we climbed the rim, the trail became steep, with sheer cliffs to one side, and imposing rock walls to the other. Even though the trail was broken by the snowshoer, we soon found ourselves postholing, for sections with every step. The last 1.5 miles to the rim took over 4 hours.
Exhausted and under cover of darkness, we were much relieved discovering that the road leading 0.2 miles from the North Kaibab Trailhead to the yurt was "plowed". We were able to walk without postholing, otherwise, we would have been looking at another hour.
|Home for the night.|
The yurt, a round building with vinyl walls and a wood-burning stove was clean. We were the second visitors of the season, the first having stayed there before the snows fell two weeks before. First order of business was to light the fire. In doing so, I managed to fill the entire building with smoke and we had to crack the door and let some of the heat escape along with the smoke.
|Warm by the fire.|
Smoky as it was, the yurt provided a warm shelter from the brutal cold outside and we slept like babies. Tired babies. Babies wearing layers of very smelly clothing and bundled in burly sleeping bags.
|Alien caviar or ice?|
Though we wanted an early start, we couldn't bring ourselves to leave the yurt until after the sun peeked above the horizon. Though we were still postholing through the deep snow, going downhill and the footprints we left the previous night made the descent much easier. After stopping at Cottonwood to collect our tent and eat a relaxed lunch, we continued to Bright Angel Campground to spend the night on the banks of the Colorado. Much to our dismay, the bathroom in the middle of the campground was out of service.
Not knowing, we pitched our tent as far from the working one as was possible. Getting water and relieving ourselves probably added another couple of miles for the day.
|In a post-apocalyptic world...|
Our return to South Rim was via the South Kaibab Trail. Unlike the Bright Angel Trail which descended through a canyon, the South Kaibab ascended along a ridgeline. The South Kaibab was also much steeper. The elevation gained was all through steep switchbacks, interspersed with segments of lesser grade. Tons of hikers were on their way down to Phantom Ranch and Bright Angel Campground. We heard along the way that both of these had been booked full. So much for trusting a guidebook :)
It was also interesting, that while so many people did make the trek down to the Colorado River, so few ventured past the creature comforts of Phantom Ranch. From reading the guestbook in the yurt, it appeared that fewer than 10 groups stayed in it each winter. The North Kaibab Trail provided the best views of the entire trip and was worth every quad-burning step through the waist deep snow.
|Steep South Kaibab Trail winding its way up.|
Re-boarding the shuttle for the Village, we also came to the startling discovery that some of the visitors explored the canyon from the confines of the bus. By not standing at the Colorado River to gaze back up the rim, the vast majority of visitors to the park are missing a great deal. By not stepping off the heated vehicles, these unfortunate souls are really not experiencing anything at all.
A bit to hasty, we deboarded the shuttle a few stops too early. As we tried to maneuver our way off the crowded bus, Sharon managed to stab someone with one of her hiking poles in the arm. Oops! We walked back to our car and got there at about the same time as the shuttle. Oops again. As a testament to how busy the park was, we managed to get the last non-suite room in the entire Grand Canyon Village.
Our final day of stay in Grand Canyon National Park, we drove to the Geology Center to attend a ranger talk about the parks creation. The talk was very educational, despite those few visitors who tried to imply that the Colorado Plateau cannot possibly have been here for a couple billion years since the Earth is only a few thousand years old and the the Grand Canyon was likely formed in a matter of months, not millions of years.
As we walked the Rim Trail towards Maricopa Point, we witnessed first hand why the Grand Canyon is so "dangerous". Despite signs everywhere stating that rangers treat 7 to 10 visitors daily for squirrel bites and that the critters carry the plagues, we saw a couple trying to entice one with a nut and were sticking their fingers through a fence towards it. Despite warnings and guard rails, individuals still found it necessary to walk right up to the icy, snow covered rim, wearing nothing but their city shoes. "Death in the Grand Canyon", a very popular book, describes visitors simply backing off the rim and falling hundreds of feet while backing up to get the perfect perspective for a picture.
The Rim to Rim trail is known as one of the most dangerous trails in the country. While it was steep and strenuous, neither Sharon nor I felt this was the most difficult trail we had ever been on, and we know there are more difficult ones out there. So what gives. Besides the visitors that leave the park with the plague, there are those that choose to hike on ice without traction devices on their feet. There were those hiking down in jeans and cotton t-shirts despite the cold temperatures and the ever-present risk of snow or rain. At Bright Angel we saw those with tents which should never be pitched far away from real shelter and though the temperature at the bottom usually stays above freezing, the night we left the canyon it was supposed to drop into the negatives Fahrenheit. I agree with the author of "Death in the Grand Canyon" in that maybe people are just too used to the "safety" of cities so as not to realize that the wilderness, is a place to be respected and not taken lightly.
* Photo Album
* Map at everytrail.com