To paraphrase T. Roosevelt, the Grand Canyon is worth seeing. The view from the South Rim is truly vast. The trail is 21 miles across, with a 5000 foot drop and 6000 foot gain on the other side. I was a little worried about my hiking speed, since I hadn't hiked at all in eight months. I've been riding my bike for almost a month but those are different muscles.
In typical form we didn't actually start hiking until noon. It takes forever to ride the buses around the park complex, to stop at the grocery for a forgotten item, and to fix our packs just right. But we soon departed from the South Kaibab trailhead, which descended very steeply from the very first step.
We had heard horror stories about how active Search and Rescue was in the park. The lady at the backcountry office told us not to be "a statistic in a government chart", like the song by the Police. The weather was unsettled with storms in the vicinity, which made it not terribly hot by Arizona standards. Nevertheless, we saw numerous people carrying a little water bottle or nothing at all, hiking out of the depths of the canyon. Although it didn't rain on us, there was no shelter at all if a thunderstorm passed over. Most people hiking weren't carrying a raincoat or pack or anything. I shudder to think of how many people have a bad day on that trail in the hotter part of the summer. It seems like there should be more warning signs at the trailhead, like we have at our backcountry gates on Vail Mountain. There, one has to push through a turnstile with dire warnings all over it, which gives a tactile warning that one is passing a threshold.
The South Kaibab Trail has no water or shade, and is arid and exposed. This makes for inspiring views at every turn. We descended on the wide, well-built trail down countless steps and switchbacks. Occasionally we passed an "ultrarunner" miserably chugging up the trail. As we got nearer to the bottom, there were fewer people. We passes one or two groups of people with backpacks who had obviously done the canyon in one day. They looked tired and I was glad we would be stopping for the night at the bottom.
I was very curious about the Phantom Ranch facility. There is a campground and also even a little lodge/restaurant at the bottom of the canyon. It is so remote that all supplies are brought in and out by mule train. There is even a little post office. I wondered if I could mail my backpack to the North Rim so I wouldn't have to carry it up. I'm sure someone has asked this question before.
The campground turned out to be rather underwhelming. There were perhaps 20 sites, all crammed together within 100 yards of riverbank. The main hiking trails passes through all of them, so every few minutes someone walked next to your site and stared at you. Later, the guy next door was snoring so badly that we put in earplugs. In the early morning, everybody was up preparing to hike. It was like a miniature Everest base camp, with all the brightly colored technical tents crowded together.
In the morning, we weren't sad to leave the campground. Staying there was better than walking through the whole canyon in a day, though. The trail up the north side of the canyon was much different. It had much more vegetation and water. We walked up the wide grassy valley of Bright Angel Creek and then turned up the narrow Pumphouse Canyon (?), which was steeply-walled and spectacular. At several points the trail was hacked into the side of a cliff and we instinctively shied away from the edge of the trail. We stopped perhaps four times to eat food and stretch out throughout the day. Near the top of the canyon we got into the part of the trail where mule rides travel. This was really gross, as there were heaping mounds of mule crap all over and ponds of dark yellow mule urine filling the width of the trail. We breathed through our mouths and kept trudging upwards.
Finally we heard the sound of a car above and knew we were almost there. We climbed out into a parking lot expecting to see the lodge or at least a shuttle bus. There was neither. The lodge was another 1.5 miles so we walked onwards, pack straps biting into our hips. We finally reached the majestic North Rim lodge, which was full of old people and tour buses and people crowding around for photos of the sunset. There was a buffet dinner for $26 that we quickly jumped on. It was pretty meager by epicurean standards but I had four plateloads. Salad, pasta, brisket, mac n cheese, more brisket, and apple cobbler. I also had a $5 bottle of O'Doul's to wash it down.
We also had another stroke of luck in that a cabin had become available in the day before, so we stumbled over and almost immediately fell asleep. The next morning, Jill left early on the shuttle van back to the South Rim and then to Flagstaff and Boulder. I wondered who would make sure my backpack zippers were closed? :(
That morning, I waited around at the lodge and studied maps until the northbound shuttle bus arrived at noon. My bike was attached to the roof and I helped the driver take it down. Just as creaky and dirty as I left it! I pedaled down to the campground and got a tent spot right on the Rim for $6. It was the best camping spot of my trip so far. I had all day, so I set about repairing my tires and oiling the creaks. A Canadian fellow named James set up camp nearby and we chatted and watched the magnificent sunset together. He had traveled from Vancouver on his BMW dual-sport bike and was on his way to Lake Havasu. I've seen a handful of people doing this and it seems like a really good way to travel. You can take some dirt roads and have all of your camping gear with you.
A front was moving in and the winds steadily increased all night. After dark, the winds were roaring our of the canyon and shaking my tent. I found it hard to sleep with all of the noise. At about midnight I got up to use the restroom and gazed across the canyon bathed in moonlight. I tried to take some photos but my little pocket camera is incapable of doing much in low light conditions. But the massive depths of the canyon swallowed up all the moonlight and imparted an eerie vastness.
In the morning James cooked up some eggs and offered me an egg quesadilla. It was hot and good and I ate it in a few bites. After pedaling back to the lodge to mail my hiking shoes to Vail, I strapped on my bike shoes and began pedaling out of the park.
