2000 Grand Canyon Hike

For three days during September 2000, I lost my mind and hiked the Grand Canyon.  What could make me do such a stupid thing (I think that is a direct quote from my mother)? Well, when a friend asked me to join a group being organized by his sister, I said "yes".  The trip was two years off; what are the odds of it really happening?  Little did I realize....

Actually, I had visited the Grand Canyon before but had just walked around the top.  While the canyon is still impressive from the rim, I was somehow disappointed.  I realized one could never truly understand what a spectacular creation the Canyon was without entering and becoming an eyewitness to the history, the geology, the just plain magnificence of it all.  So when this opportunity arose, I said "yes".

Below is a quick overview of my three day "adventure", including some scanned photos taken by others in my group (did you really think I would waste weight on a camera?).

We descended the Grand Canyon on the South Kaibab trail which is 7.7 miles long.  Here is the description from my map: "Following the ridges, rather than the canyons, it is a beautiful hike with spectacular views - but no shade and no water".  Talking about ridges (really cliffs), on at least 50% of the trail, if you lose your balance and fall, you are a goner (being the outdoorsman I am, I kept wondering to myself, "Where are the handrails?").  However, you can see from the picture that the trails are pretty well maintained.  Also, notice the storm clouds; we witnessed several thunder storms and were buffeted with wind and rain throughout the trek down.

Here we are working our way down the Canyon.  You can see how the trails switch back and forth.  In the distance you can see the trail in front of O'Neill Butte.  You can even see me in the picture as I look incredulously back up at our starting point.

Now everyone said, "Going down is much more difficult than going back up".  Well, I refused to believe that, but in the end, I had to agree.  The constant pounding going down as you fight against your momentum is much harder than going back up.

I love this picture because of the scale it depicts.  Our trail cuts right along this cliff (you can see someone on it) and then switches back downwards (to the Tonto Platform for those of you keeping score at home).  The peak in the distance is actually on the other side of the Canyon.

OK, I guessed that I had to have one picture of me as proof that I actually went on this hike.  Here I am, calculating whether it would be shorter to return to the top or continue to the bottom.  You can see my ready water supply.  Our party continues to work its way down to the Tonto Platform.

Once you hike down the South Rim, you are not done yet.  You have to actually hike down the Inner Canyon, cross the Colorado River (notice the bridge), and then walk the longest mile of your life to the Phantom Ranch.

This picture was taken the next day from the North side of the Colorado, but I like how it shows the switchbacks we used to get down the Inner Canyon.

By the way, my legs were killing me at this point.

Here is a picture of the Canyon floor near the Phantom Ranch.  It depicts Bright Angel Creek as it flows past the Ranch into the Colorado river.  Built in 1922, the Ranch provides dormitory/ cabin space and food for hikers, mule riders, and river rafters.  We stayed in a cabin with five bunk beds.

I spent my free day at the ranch reading a book, soaking my legs in Bright Angel Creek, and taking as much Ibuprofen as possible.

The people who work at the Ranch spend a lot of time preparing you for the return hike.  First, they repeatedly chant, "Going back up is much easier than coming down".  Then they feed you lots of carbohydrates, salt, etc. to prepare your body for the upward assault.  Finally, they make sure you understand that the only way you are going to get helicoptered out is if you're dead.

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