Grand Canyon Adventure Day 1 Part 2: The Descent

Discouraged. We were finally on our way! After a brief rest on the rim at Grandview Point my sister and I were finally ready to take our first steps into the Grand Canyon, after (only) 9 miles of walking on the road to get to our starting point. The wind on the rim was bitterly cold and we were eager to find some relief down lower, where temperatures could be as much as 20 degrees warmer than at the rim. We chatted with other hikers who were on their way out of the canyon, some with backpacks similar to my sister's and mine, others with little day packs, and they told us of a steep trail down to Horseshoe Mesa, the first official stop on the trail and a popular dayhike destination.

The trail was just as steep as the reports had promised. Alisha and I slipped down switchback after switchback, sometimes crunching on sand and dirt, sometimes stepping down and over larger rocks. To get in to a place like the Grand Canyon you really only have one choice, but knowing that didn't make the trek down any easier; in fact, both of us at one point or another questioned the wisdom of undertaking a hike like the one we were attempting. The absolute worst were the cobblestone "stairs" that looped out in front of us as far as we could see down the canyon wall. They weren't true stairs, but were set at odd enough intervals, with bigger and smaller stones, to make navigating them miserable. My knees and ankles began to protest less than halfway down the upper canyon wall, and there was nothing I could do about it. A group of hikers who passed us on their way up stopped to chat and kindly shared their supply of asprin with me, which took the edge off the throbbing pain in my knees but did nothing for the swelling and stiffness that was setting in.

We began to rest more and more frequently, stopping for water breaks where before we had drank and walked, stretching our snack breaks out even longer, trying to delay setting out again. At some point shortly after we had stopped for lunch we came to one of the few shady spots on the trail and stopped again, leaning our packs against the tree trunk and trying to talk about anything other than our hike. With the combination of the heat and the pain, the long hours of walking and our increasing isolation from other human beings my sister's and my conversations became more and more funny, until we got to the point of hysterical laughing over the stupidest things, then continued laughing because we were laughing at something so simple. The action came to a halt with a slam when I got one of my infamous bloody noses, and we had to scramble to find tissues burried somewhere in our packs before I bled all over everything. Leave it to me to use up more than my fair share of tissues and toilet paper when we were sure to run out of both of them on our way through the canyon.

It took us a while to settle down again, and even longer to get the nerve to continue the hike to our first campsite of the night, still miles away.  A "flat" trail to Horseshoe Mesa waited for us, and by flat I mean a less steep trail that still angled to lower elevations, but to us it was a welcome respite. We made up a little time and distance, though by that time both of us were in considerable amounts of pain and every step took us farther away from ice packs and a soothing shower. Horseshoe Mesa arrived before I had expected it to, which was nice, but the last mile of trail to our campsite was not. We were greeted by horrible loose egg-sized rocks that slid out from under our feet, causing us to slip and slide down a narrow ravine that dropped hundreds of feet to the inner canyon plateaus. We weren't talking much at that point, keeping our eyes on our feet and concentrating on not toppling over with fourty pound packs on our backs. When we finally got off the mesa slopes we had less than half a mile to Cottonwood Creek, the first camp area of the hike, and we camped at the very first place we came to. We didn't even bother to look around and explore our options. As much as both of us wanted to pitch the tent and stop moving for the night we forced ourselves to make dinner and take some time to stretch our sore bodies, knowing we would be thankful we did in the morning. It wasn't long after we ate, and well before the light had faded from the sky, that we crawled into our sleeping bags and dropped off to sleep for our first night in the Grand Canyon.

Did you miss the first part of our adventure, The Road? Read about how I made a big mistake and caused us to walk even further than we needed to here.

A Snapshot and The Scoop: The Narrows - A Life Goal

The trail at the end of the road in Zion National Park has a lot of pull: it is easily accessible to anybody, it takes you right along the Virgin River between towering sandstone cliffs, and, of course, the river itself. This path is the jumping point for anybody wishing to walk up-river to any distance; most people go a mile or less against the current before turning around, though a fair few travel several miles upstream to get to The Narrows. The Narrows is where the walls of Zion Canyon close in around you and the river stretches from wall to wall. It is definitely not a place to be when a storm threatens. They can be done during a long day trip, but also by a multi-day backpacking trip, and it is the multi-day adventure that is on my short list for epic trips. I'm itching to get my feet wet (literally) and hike with the current of the Virgin River in some of the most pristine canyon country in the West. As of right now I don't have plans for this adventure yet, but I hope to within the next few years!

Leave me a comment below and tell me if you'd be interested in doing this with me! I'm looking for an adventure buddy!!

Grand Canyon Adventure Day 1 Part 1: The Road

Irritated. I usually put a lot of thought and planning in to my adventures to help things go smoothly, but every once in a while I mess up. I messed up big time on my sister's and my adventure in Grand Canyon National Park this last May when I didn't route plan correctly and ended up making us walk about nine miles more than necessary on our four day trek along the Grand Canyon. I was just so eager to hike in the canyon that I didn't put much thought into our beginning and ending points, I just knew what we would be hiking once we dipped below the rim, including our camping areas and available water.

As a result, I only realized after we had our permits in hand that our point-to-point trail began at one trail overlook and ended at another - nine miles apart. This little lapse in planning would force us to take the park's shuttle as far as it would go up the road, where we then had to shoulder our forty pound packs and walk the rest of the way to our starting point along the park highway. The morning of the beginning of our hike we got up way too early and parked at the backcountry parking lot along with dozens of other cars, caught the earliest shuttle we could, and began a four day adventure that would test everything about our mental and physical tolerance. (I wish that were an exaggeration...)

Alisha said she wasn't mad at me, but I was beyond angry with myself. We had discussed the problem and decided it was best to walk the extra miles at the beginning of our adventure instead of at the end when we were sure to be exhausted and sore, but that didn't make the miles any easier. Our packs were at the heaviest they would be for the entire trip, full of food and water and our entire lives for the next four days. We talked at first in the cool grey mists of dawn, where herds of elk kept us company along the sides of the road. We were both excited to begin our journey, talking about the challenges and beauty of what we were likely to encounter. We got quieter and quieter as the morning wore on, eventually only dully calling out "car" when one was coming up behind us.

 We took short rests whenever there was an overlook or a rock or anything that would make a comfy seat to someone who was carrying a quarter of their weight on their backs, but struggled on shortly after stopping. We knew that we had to keep going because we hadn't even entered the canyon yet, and had a further five miles to hike down to our first campsite of the night once we got to the rim and the true beginning of the trail. My pack was rubbing raw spots into my hips and my feet and ankles already hurt, though I kept telling myself it was because of the road and that things would get better once we were inside the canyon. I almost believed my own lies. We finally reached Grandview Point, the overlook and trailhead we were to take down into the Grand Canyon, and it was freezing. The wind was bitter and we only stopped long enough to snack a bit and use the pit toilet, the last true toilet we would see for four days, before shouldering our packs again and preparing to take our first steps into the canyon. I thought I knew what to expect of the coming adventure, but I was very wrong. Our journey was beyond imagining.

What I'm listening to: Big Love Adagio by Bond