Down is Optional, Up is Mandatory

Man, the Grand Canyon has some amazing signage. My favorite was the one with stats about how many rescues occur each year. An average of 355 rescues, or almost one a day! While I’m there, I would hear of one death, and witness another major injury. An old lady tweaked her back while riding a mule down the canyon, rendering her unable to walk. I watched as 2 rangers drug her to the ranger station at Indian Garden. I didn’t wait to see how they got her up (Don’t worry I offered to help).

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I arrive at the Grand Canyon early Friday morning, prepping for my hike down to the bottom, and back out the next day. I have reservations for Phantom Ranch, a Mary Colter devised scattering of dorms, cabins and a cafeteria along the edge of the Colorado River. As I’m checking the straps on my bag, and gathering water for my 10 mile hike, I try to tell myself to stop being such a bitch about how many people are at this park. Just expect lots of folks, and get over it. And with that pep talk, I start my ascent straight down Bright Angel Trail.

As I walk, the views are spectacular. This tiny trail full of switchbacks and large rocks is carved into the canyon wall. You can see Indian Garden (5 miles away) and beyond, as the visibility is amazing. Walking down I notice lots, and lots of other people trekking down with me. Many of whom I believe will severely struggle to get back up. Actually, I’m really worried about the folks walking down. Many are overweight or obese, and carrying little to no water. We’ve passed about 5 signs in every language imaginable about the how much water to carry and the difficulties of the trail. But I’m the only one that stops to read them… No surprise there. That’s why there are 355 rescues a year.

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I’m also surprised to see shelters at the 1.5 and 3 mile point, as there is very little real estate for such a cabin. There is a thermometer, and emergency telephone at each along with bathrooms. Coming from many other park trails, this seems like quite the luxury. The cabin is full of overweight people guzzling water and stuffing their faces with snacks, so I cruise past both shelters without stopping. As I descend, the temperature takes a sharp uptick. Wearing long johns when it was 28 at the rim seemed like a great idea, but now I’m sweating my balls off.

As I continue down, I notice very fresh mule poop. I know mules are taken down this trail, but I haven’t seen them yet. I don’t think I can pass a team of mules, so I’m hoping I don’t get stuck behind any. About 2 hours in, I’m down into what is known as Indian Garden. A place with lush vegetation due to year-round water, the Native Americans have utilized this space for thousands of years. There are ginormous cottonwood trees, and many other purple budding trees that I never identified. I decide to stop and chill out in this cool, historic space when I see the mule team…. They have also decided to stop for a bit and get some water. Seeing this, and not wanting to be stuck behind them, I throw my pack back on and keep walking.

Two and a half hours later and I’m crossing the Colorado River heading into Phantom Ranch. I’m terrified of heights, so this bridge was an experience. All the material were brought down by mule teams run by the CCC. It seems sturdy enough…

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Once at camp, it’s a little disorienting. They have a full cafeteria, showers, bathrooms with flushing toilets, and bunk beds with surprisingly nice mattresses. I check into my dorm, grab my Ipad, buy a Bright Angle IPA (special brew for the trail) and sit to read for a bit. It’s weird being alone in a place like this. I mean, what am I supposed to do for the next 7 hours? I decide to stroll down to the Colorado River and stick my feet in the water.

After a dip in frigid water, I decide to hike around to kill some more time and see what’s around. When I return, I pass a group of four people sitting on a bench staring out at the canyon near the dorms. I plop down next to them and ask if we’re watching to see if it’s going to get dark. They laugh and introduce themselves. Two couples that all work for American Airlines. They have traveled the entire world together. I hear stories of how they climbed Kilimanjaro, spent nights on Fiji, even visited Germany when the Berlin wall came down, everything. No kids, houses paid off, all of their free time and money goes to exploring the world. I get as many recommendations for Alaska and the British Columbia as I can from them, as well as try and figure out where my next travel destination should be. As night begins to fall, they filter off to bed. I stay up and watch the stars roll out and begin to pop in the clear, cold sky.

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One of the flight attendants, Rhonda, informs me she snores like a chainsaw. Great. At least this gives me time to scrounge up my earplugs before hopping into my bunk bed.

The next morning, everyone is up at 5:30. Do old people just wake up early naturally or something?? Anyway, the lights are on in the dorm so there’s no escaping my early rising time. I pack up and mentally prepare myself for 10 miles of uphill rocky trail. I’ll be honest, going up was difficult. It’s a 5,000 ft elevation change, with the top being over 7,000 ft. That kind of hard hiking in that altitude was difficult for me. Again, I worried about the droves of people walking happily, and easily down the trail past me. I didn’t see anyone dead at the bottom, so they must all be able to get up somehow…

Back at the top, I’m gassed. I have to sit in my truck for an hour to recoup my strength and warm up. I had already forgotten how cold it was up here. Afterwards, I decide to visit the rest of the park, walking the rim trail along the canyon’s boundary. After the rim jaunt, I decide to head back to the RV camp, get some coffee at the neighboring Starbucks (I know, there’s a Starbucks there, crazy right?) and go to bed. The next morning I decide to drive through the park one more time to see the eastern-most section known as Desert View, then head on my way South to my next destination.