GRAND CANYON, ARIZONA
BRIGHT ANGEL TRAIL
JULY, 1994
INTRODUCTION
Deviating from a road trip to Colorado that
my nephew Mark and I were on, we decided at the last minute
to visit the Grand Canyon. After peering over the rim, Mark
expressed a keen interest in seeing what lay below. Granted
this wasn't planned for and it was mid-summer and really
hot, but as I'm always ready to take a hike into the Grand
Canyon, there wasn't too much arm-twisting to be done. It
wasn't very difficult for me to quickly put this together.
Mark enjoyed it immensely, and I was happy to introduce him
to one of my favorite places. I had never done this trail
before, even though it was a suggested beginner's trail. As
I've said in other places, I really dislike big crowds and
so avoided this trail up to this point.
FRIDAY JULY 22, 8:00 p.m.
Mark and I are at Indian Gardens in the Grand Canyon. On a
whim yesterday, we decided to hike into the Canyon today.
Since we were prepared for backpacking, albeit originally
planned for the Rockies, there was no reason we couldn't do
it. The first challenge was obtaining a permit. The
back-country reservations office had already closed for the
day, so our only chance to get one meant we had to wake up
early and join the multitudes scrambling for permits in the
morning. With that in mind, we made our way to Babbitt's
Store for some last minute shopping. Much like Bob and I
had done in 1981, I bought hiking staffs for Mark and
myself. I told Mark how much I had come to depend on a
staff, particularly in the Canyon, and how not having one
in certain areas of the Canyon could make things
considerably more difficult. We camped for the night at
Mather campground. After eating a fine dinner I made for
us, we walked down to the campground laundry and shower
center to make phone calls.
In the morning, arriving later than I wanted at 7:35, there
was surprisingly only five other people waiting on the
back-country reservations office porch. By 8:00 when the
office opened, there were about fifteen people. Numbers
were given out. Ours was 14. By the time we got our turn at
the desk, I was sure we wouldn't get our desired itinerary.
I was pleasantly surprised when the friendly young woman
behind the desk said "Two nights? No problem".
I parked the truck in the dirt lot near the train station.
We loaded our packs here. After a couple of phone calls to
Jill (she was disturbed I had given such short notice about
being out of touch), we were on the trail at 11:10.
Going down the Bright Angel trail was easy, except for the
occasional slow moving group or a passing pack train. Mark
shot ahead of me and by the time I reached the second rest
house, he had been there for about fifteen minutes. By now
few people were on the trail. Leaving the rest house, Mark
shot ahead again and by the time I arrived at Indian
Gardens in exactly two hours, Mark had again beaten me by
fifteen minutes.
We had lunch, I did some foot care, and it started raining.
A thunderstorm ensued and, as is common, in a mere twenty
minutes passed. A little cooler and somewhat rested, we
headed for Plateau Point, a distance of one and a half
miles. From the south rim, this is perhaps one of the most
visible trails, and for years I had always seen it and
fantasized about someday being on it. Well, now I was and
it was somewhat anti-climactic. However, when we reached
the end of the trail, the views were absorbing. Looking
down was a gorgeous view of the inner Canyon. Looking east
Pipe and Bright Angel creeks could be seen. We spent about
an hour here, taking some photographs and climbing on the
cliffs.
Back at camp we made a dinner of rice and chicken. I then
washed a bit in the creek and did some more foot care.
Shortly before turning in for the night, two Germans
approached and asked if I could wake them at 3:30 in the
morning. They didn't have a watch and were hiking out the
next day and wanted to get an early start. Rather than
crawling out of my cocoon at this ungodly hour, I set my
watch and gave it to them and told them to return it on
their way out.
Light was fading and I had to stop writing. A hike to the
river was planned for the next day.
Saturday July 23, 7:00 p.m.
I wasn't quite sure of the time since my watch had stopped
working at 4:30 this afternoon due to moisture that had
accumulated in it. I didn't sleep too well the previous
night. The air was humid and there wasn't any breeze. It
was too hot to sleep in my down sleeping bag and lying on
top, my back kept sticking to it. Around 3:30, when several
of our neighbors awoke for their trip out, the camp was
busy and kept me awake. Around 5:30 a very warm and dry
breeze came up the canyon and finally forced us to get up.
We had finished breakfast by 6:30 and were ready for our
day trip to the river. By 6:45 we were on the trail. We had
gone about four tenths of a mile down the trail when I
realized I hadn't brought my water pump. Mark stayed by the
trail while I retrieved it. Half an hour later I was back
and we were on our way down. I stopped several times to
take some photographs. The day before we noticed a
waterfall in Garden Creek and on passing the confluence of
Garden and Pipe creeks we agreed to check it out on our way
back. The views were spectacular and the trail somewhat
intimidating. It was pure desert canyon country and
beautiful. We reached the beach in about two hours. At the
mouth of the canyon there was another rest house. We spent
an hour exploring and relaxing, and even took a splash in
the river.
Our thoughts turned to what to do next, since it was still
early in the day. We decided to hike up the river trail to
see the bridge. In the hot sun all the way, we reached the
bridge in half an hour. Of all the times I had been at or
in the Grand Canyon, I never had any desire to see this
bridge. I was glad I finally had. We crossed over and on
the north side found a welcome supply of cool water.
Sitting in the cool shade, we decided to hike up to Phantom
Ranch, another place I never really had any desire to see.
Arriving at 11:30, we used the bathroom and then rested on
the bench outside the canteen for a while, watching people
come and go. Unfortunately, I hadn't brought my wallet with
me so we couldn't have an ice-cold coke or lemonade. By
12:00 we had had enough and headed back to the river,
having lunch on the rocks nearby.
After lunch, we crossed the bridge, stopping in the middle
to take some photographs, and then continued on. Luckily,
the sky had clouded up, providing us with some shade and
even a little bit of wind and rain along the river trail.
We passed the beach we had been at and the rest-house and
started up the trail to Indian Gardens. Reaching the
confluence of Pipe and Garden creeks, we took a side trip
to the bottom pool of several below the waterfall. Since a
family was just leaving, a bath was in order. The water was
cool, but not as cold as the Colorado. I was able to
submerge myself twice, as did Mark. After a small amount of
foot care, we tackled the toughest part of the trail.
Ahead lay several long switch-backs leading up to the
bottom of the Bright Angel shale. This section of trail
looks completely overwhelming from both above and below.
Surprisingly though, it only took about half an hour to
climb. Once at this point, the trail leveled somewhat and
climbed up through the formation to Indian Gardens. We
stopped in the Tapeats briefly to explore a five-foot thick
purple colored section of bedding. The contact zone between
this bed and the one above it had red covered shale that
stood out. I collected a few small samples.
Back at camp, we were both pretty exhausted from the hike
and barely had enough energy to cook dinner. Getting
darker, we were both quite sore. I was having a difficult
time with my calves. They were extremely tight and painful
to stretch out. I was hoping they would feel better in the
morning. Our plan was to hike out in the morning.
Sunday July 24, 3:15 p.m.
We were at the truck in the parking lot next to the train
station waiting for the steam train to leave. I woke up at
about 6:15 this morning. My legs were stiff, so I did a
little stretching before actually getting up. I checked my
thermometer and it indicated that last night had been down
to 71 degrees, 7 degrees cooler than the night before. I
hobbled to the outhouse, washed my face at the community
fountain, and started to heat water for coffee. Mark then
got up. We had breakfast and took our time contemplating
the hike out. The train was ready to leave, so I stopped
writing.
Monday July 25, 7:40 a.m.
Picking up where I left off yesterday afternoon, we were
contemplating the hike out. After a while, we began packing
and at about 7:25 (I say this because my watch was only
five to ten minutes fast after it stopped and I guessed as
to the time - I asked someone on the trail) we hit the
trail.
The first half-hour was fairly easy, not having to climb
very much. We were also in the shade. Even the first hour
of switch-backs weren't too bad either. We stopped a couple
of times to take in the view and rest. The sun began to
appear at various spots on the trail, but we were able to
hike from shade to shade. The number of people going down
the trail was increasing. We stopped for about twenty-five
minutes and had some snacks. I had an apple and played with
a squirrel. We eventually reached the mile two rest-house
and removed our packs.
We spent some time talking to Jack Pennington, a Student
Conservation Association volunteer. He was at Indian
Gardens the first night and gave a sunset walk to Plateau
Point. I remember seeing his group coming back after dark.
He said he was a geologist and had applied for a position
at Carlsbad Caverns, but wasn't accepted.
I refilled my water bottle, diluting the Gookinaid that was
left in it, packed, and started up the trail. The sun was
out now and was becoming hot, although a broken cloud cover
helped. We still could find some shady spots in which to
rest. We encountered even more people on the trail,
including three pack mule trains.
We were stopping every ten minutes or so to catch our
breath. Even more people were appearing, becoming less
considerate of right of way, and doing stupid things like
throwing rocks, or cutting switch-backs. Also, in general,
these people were becoming less friendly, although some
stick out in my mind. There was a group of boys from
somewhere in the rural south, the man and his family who we
had met the day before at the Garden Creek pools, and even
a man and his family on a day hike who were excited that
they had met someone who spoke English. We talked about the
canyon. He said he was a pilot, so I told him about the
Imax film, thinking he would enjoy that. We also came upon
a Korean couple who wanted me to take their photograph. I
obliged.
Eventually, we neared the top. Our rest stops were
happening more frequently, like every two minutes! The
tourist awareness factor was dropping to near zero. We
passed through the tunnels, zigzagged around the
inconsiderates stopped in the middle of the trail, or those
walking three abreast down the trail, forcing me to break
my pace and step aside, and finally popped out of the
canyon. As always, this occurs so suddenly, although the
sounds of civilization were heard for some distance below
the rim. The sight was at once welcome and unwelcome.
We headed to the truck and had a celebratory beer, along
with a peanut butter sandwich. The steam engine was
preparing to leave the station, so we decided to wait for
it to hitch and watched it leave. Our next stop was at the
showers. I made walk-in reservations at the Arizona Steak
House where, after a half hour wait, we had a fine dinner.
Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, Mather campground
was full, so we drove out of the park to Ten-X forest
campground, just outside of Tusayan. Here we had a good
nights rest. We were now ready for our trip to Durango,
Colorado.