3Apr10 (Sat) Grand Canyon, AZ – Kanab, UT
Derek and I cooked our typical camping breakfast (eggs, toast, tea) and laid out all the info we had on the GC to choose our hike for the day. We both agreed we wanted to go down into the canyon, at least partway (since it was pretty impossible, at least for people at our physical level, to hike down and back in one day). We chose the South Kaibab Trail, which was described as having great views all the way down.
We packed everything up but hadn’t yet put it in the car when we decided we should wash our dishes at the sink behind the bathroom. I’ve been camping before and know that you shouldn’t leave shit out at your campsite, especially food, even if it’s packed up, but we were going to the bathroom a minute away, and I had to pee, and I was feeling lazy and thinking – nothing will happen. Silly me. We return to our campsite ten minutes later and there are no less than three deer and several delighted campers at nearby campsites watching as they rooted through the overturned bins that used to be on our picnic table. “We’ve got pictures if you want us to email them to you,” one nearby camper offered. Derek took some pictures before our presence chased the deer away. They’d only managed to make a mess, not actually get into anything, but I kept shaking my head, muttering “oh my god, we’re THOSE people. The idiot campers they always warn you not to be at the entrance to the park!” At least we provided entertainment for our neighbors.
At the South Kaibab trail, posted signs warned us that what goes down must come up, and to remember that hiking up takes 2 to 3 times more energy. It tried scare tactics with water and food (if you don’t properly prepare, you could end up like this poor dead person who was died of heat stroke). The signs worked, because we packed lots of salty foods and twice the water we thought we might need. Which was a good thing, because we ended up needing it. The trail is a series of switch backs that are easy going down but tough coming up. Even in cool weather you start to sweat and feel overheated.
The benefit was that the trail offered views of the canyon, from every different angle, and as the day progressed every different light. It’s amazing how dramatically the light and angle can affect the canyon’s chameleon nature.
As we hiked down, alternately concentrating on our feet and the scenery, we were mostly quiet, but every once in awhile we would break the silence, often as we paused to let other people pass us who were more in a hurry than our slow picture taking butts. A typical conversation was: me – “why are the flies only following me? Do I smell bad? Or good?” Derek – “Definitely not good. Maybe to them.” Me - “Careful there. You’re standing on the edge of a cliff.” OR: Derek – “I hope I get to see the Canyon BigFoot.” Me - “Is there a difference between a Sasquatch and a Bigfoot?” Derek – “Big Foot is the American term. Sasquatch is the Native American term.” Me – “what about the Yeti? “He has slightly lighter fur, and is found in Nepal. Then there’s the Abominable Snowman with a white coat of fur, who is found in the upper elevations of the Himalayas.”
There were two main stopping points along the way down, designated for the day hikes. We stopped at both of these to rest, relax, and eat. There were a few very friendly squirrels at both of these places, who seemed to really like Derek (though I was adamant that we didn’t feed them). He would talk to them and tell them to turn this way or that, and they would listen to him, posing for the camera. I would try the same tactics, and they would give me a disparaging look and scurry away. Go figure.
It was a relatively easy 1.5 mile hike down, and an arduous 1.5 mile hike up. It is the kind of hike that made me appreciate how out of shape I was. But once I forced my body into the rhythm of the constant steps upward, it became easier. Nonetheless, with the always slightly wary feeling of having one misstep lead to tumbling a mile downwards into an ancient grave, and the constant strain on underused muscles, it was nice when we took our final step over the top.
We are headed to Zion and Bryce in Utah next, the road taking us through the Navajo Reservation. I find it hard to imagine scratching out a living on this vast, forgotten land of desert backed by cliffs and ridges. Isolated, flat topped houses were scattered here and there, though there seemed to be no real village. Shacks that advertised jewelry and other Native American art cropped up regularly, and Derek and I stopped at a few, because I have a weakness for handmade silver jewelry, especially where turquoise or any semi precious stone is involved.
Derek would pull over the car when a particular view struck him. He retains the excitement of a kid as he hops out of the car to snap away. One time he was so excited that he left open the back door and pulled down the road for 50 feet before I wondered what the odd flapping sound was. Miraculously, nothing fell out of our piles of stuff. At least, nothing we’ve yet found missing.
Once out of the reservation we began to pass themed motels and lodges. The Cliff Dweller’s Lodge attracted tourists by using the natural large almost inverted looking boulders that littered the nearby area and adding to the scene by building a house that appeared to be crushed by one of its boulders. It was certainly enough to have us pull over and take photos, and had we not wanted to be closer to our ultimate destination, we probably would have stayed.
I kept offering to drive, because I was afraid that Derek would get tired of the open, empty road ahead of us, the desert zooming peacefully by on either side, but Derek wanted to keep driving. “I love this!” he exclaimed. I believed him, because at random he would often shout out: “I love this. I really love this! This is great!” for no particular reason other than being moved by his surroundings.
I am one of those people who always falls asleep in the car if I’m a passenger, but on this trip, I rarely have just because the scenery is so engaging. But as we drove through the repetitive landscape, I found my eyes becoming heavy. I closed them for maybe ten minutes, and when I opened them again, we had entered a different territory completely – the Kaibab forest, full of tall evergreens, space and elk. It always amazes me how swiftly the landscape changes, how delicate the balance of nature.
We finally made it to our destination for the night – Kanab, a city on the border of Utah that is known by locals as little Hollywood, for its history of all the westerns and tv series filmed in the town. It’s a great, showy town with lots of unique motels. We found our hotel – the Sun and Sand, through Trip Advisor. The motel is a story in itself, and I’ll have to tell it tomorrow.
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