35.) Hopi-less Point...Self Doubt and Reassuring Strangers.....Permit Me to Demonstrate...

     I hop off the bus at Hopi Point which my research has informed me is one of the best places in the park to catch the sunset.  Upon my arrival it’s easy to see this is no secret. Hopi Point is atop one to the long fingers of cliff that juts out over the Canyon.  Theres a railing that runs down one side of the cliff, out to the very tip of the point, then curves back and runs across the edge of the opposite cliff.  Between the the two railings, the flat cliff top is packed with people. I was looking forward to a quiet space of self reflection as I watched the sun go down. I should have known better.  Quiet space to be alone with one’s thoughts is surprisingly hard to come by at the Grand Canyon. I’ll be reminded of this trait repeatedly over my stay at the park. The sun set is gorgeous as promised, despite the crowd and I snap a few pictures once I fight my way right up to the railing and can take a few without including any of the strangers.

Before I head to camp for the night I grab a slice at the Pizza Pub and chat with the gentleman on the next barstool and he shares his cheese sticks with me. He’s a nice enough guy, as far as people go, and the conversation lightens my load a bit and puts me in a good mood.  You see, on a trip like this, doubts have a tendency to creep in, as doubts are wont to do. I’m constantly worried that this whole romp is nothing but a waste of time. Is this what I should be doing? Are there better ways to spend my time?  Shouldn’t I be doing something more productive?  And the attention that these thought need, take away from the experience itself, which worries me even more. "What if this trip is ‘Something Productive’ but I’m missing all the juicily little tidbits and life lessons because I’m too worried that I’m wasting my time!?”  It’s exhausting and it may not be ruining the trip, but it’s certainly distracting me from enjoying it to the fullest.  But every time I stop to chat with a stranger my doubts are knelled and I feel lighter somehow.

     Like I was lost at sea, my life raft has sprung a leak and inevitably, we’re going down. Then I tell someone about my trip and their reaction is always the same…or very similar at least.  Something like “Man, I wish I would have done that!”, “Good for you!”, or “Sounds like an adventure!”  Never, not once has anyone said “Man, that sounds like a waste of time. Get a job. Be something.”  I’ve never received a reaction that was even remotely negative. Everyone has been friendly, thoughtful and encouraging. This realization provides the buoy I need and I’m once again riding high on the water as I make my way back to camp and turn in for the night, the thoughts of camping at the bottom of the Grand Canyon still swimming around somewhere deep in the stem of my brain.

Ok, so I haven't said anything yet because it hasn't really been that big of a problem but the zipper on my sleeping is doing that thing where you zip up the zipper part but the teeth of the zipper don’t interlock so it’s open on both sides of the slider part. You know what I mean?  Anyway, I’ve been able to fix it for the last few days running the slider back and forth a few times and it would eventually catch, but last night it happened again and I lost it!.  It’s freezing cold in the back of the jeep and my sleeping bag wont zip. Half asleep, after I kicked and jerked the bag around in a good old fashioned hissy fit, I blindly felt for my tool box. I found some pliers and pinched the metal slider. It takes a moment for me to remember this in the morning, I wasn’t completely conscious when I did it, but now the zippers working perfectly! Its a stupid little thing but I’m overjoyed! The zipper teeth didn’t pull apart while I flopped around last night and my toes are toasty warm. Good thing since outside my sleeping bag its a chilly morning.  When you keep life simple, the little things make a big difference.               
 
After a few quick questions at the ranger station I find out that camping permits for the bottom of the canyon are in high demand and nearly sold out. The only way for me to get one is to go to the backcountry office and see if thy have any left.  I navigate the shuttle system, find the backcountry office, and burst inside only to find out they have already issued all the permits for the day.  All I can do now is take a number, show up early tomorrow morning, and maybe I’ll be able to score one for later in the week.  “Alright, can I get a number?”  I ask, without much hope.  Seeing as the whole fuckin’ park is packed, I’m assuming the waiting list is a mile long.  I’m sort of bummed, but at the same time sort of relieved, thinking….If I can’t get a permit, I won’t feel guilty about not trying to get to the bottom. And also, wont have to put myself through hiking roughly 6,000 vertical feet.   

“Here ya go.” The ranger says handing me a laminated bookmark. I turn it over and there's the National Park logo printed on it and a big number 1.  I point the number at her and say, “Oh, does this me I’m first on the list?” 

“Yep! Just show up here tomorrow morning, if you’re here when we open you’ll be the first to receive a permit.”  

“Oh….cool. But how likely is that?” I’m still questioning my physical ability to do a hike like this as she answers.  

“Pretty likely.  We usually hold back a few permits for last minute guys like yourself.” 

“Sweet, see you in the morning.”  Well, if I can get a permit I gotta give it a shot.  The disappointment in myself, if I don’t at least try, would be much more painful than anything the hike can throw at me I’m sure. I’m nervous about it but also excited for the experience. The nervousness fades slightly when I recall something I read earlier in the trip. “Growth Means Change and Change Involves Risk, stepping from the known to the unknown.”  This is unknown territory to me for sure, but ‘Growth’ is definitely “Something Productive” and once again, I feel I’m righh where I’m supposed to be…..

After I get my number I further navigate the shuttle system all the way to its end and hop off right before the bus turns around to make the return trip.  Hermit’s Rest Trail Head is the very last stop and I hike into a side canyon.  My legs are a little sore from the 6 miles I did yesterday and the bus ride out here was nothing but screaming kids.  It really sucked the magic out of the place and I turn around less than a mile in, deciding to make it an early night.

I’m at the backcountry office when they open the doors the next morning and sure enough, I’m the first person to receive my permit for the Bright Angel Campground. Tomorrow night I will be spending at the bottom of the Grand Canyon!  I’m still concerned about my questionable

abilities to make the hike in and out so I take it easy and spend the rest of the day reading and writing back at the Stage Stop.  Before I turn in I cook bacon and eggs for dinner and a bunch of brats that will be my dinner after my hike into the Canyon. I fall asleep under a purple sky with with the nervous excitement of the first day of school.

34.) Hiking Upside Down.....Snow Drifter......Spherical Vision?

     Every morning I wake up at my makeshift campsite and head into the little town of Tusayan for coffee.  Then it’s into the the park. For most of the morning I wander the rim-side trail that runs the length of the park, and eventually a mile or so into the canyon on the South Kibab Trail where I once again marvel at power of the natural world.  I think “Humans can’t even compete…..not ever….not even close.

The little geology museum is splendid. Built right on the canyon’s edge and offering panoramic views from it’s wrap around windows.  It’s amazing what people can learn from just examining rocks.  I read the various plaques and learn about the movement of entire continents.  About volcanic island chains slamming into the North American landmass and then being forced underground. 

The hikes here are backwards….or upside down.  I’m used to climbing UP on the hike out, making the return trip much easier. When you hike into the Grand Caynon, you start by going down, and it feels like you could hike forever.  You hear all sorts of horror stories about the people not realizing how difficult the hike out will be and exhausting themselves on the climb. For this reason I pace myself and do a few test hikes to feel it out.  On my longest one I make it to the 3 mile rest house on the Bright Angel Trail. The elevation change is nearly 2,000 feet in those 3 miles.  The way out is rough on the ass and legs but not as bad as anticipated.  The past few weeks of hiking have made me stronger. The thought of camping at on the canyon’s floor starts to seep into my brain.  It’s a long way, and the hike out would take all day, but I think I’d regret if I didn’t give it a shot. I mean….I’m already here.

The next morning, laying in the back of the jeep I’m deep into the escalating conflict of a Michael Crichton novel and unaware of the world around me.  When I finally emerge from the trance, a thin sheet of snow has accumulated on the forest and it’s still coming down.  I can’t believe I didn’t notice it.  But, with hiking out of the question in such conditions (Upon leaving Texas, my only cold weather gear consists of a few hoodies and one pair of long pants.) I head into town and find a picnic table where I grill up a few cheese sandwiches on my camp stove and and watch the flakes float lazily to the ground.  

     It’s been a long time since I’ve seen any kind of substantial snow fall and I’ve forgotten how much I miss it.  The silence is my favorite part of it I think. It takes me back to Northern Illinois. Waking up after a big overnight snowfall and stepping outside to be engulfed in that world of white silence.  Everything is rolling drifts and rounded edges.  
     I go into a McDonalds for coffee and to warm up after my grilled cheese.  I do some research on the trails into the canyon, read some more and just people watch.  It’s been years since I’ve taken in such a sight.  People in big puffy jackets coming through the sliding glass doors and stomping the snow from their boots. Clutching steaming cups of coffee in gloved hands close to the face in an effort to thaw out noses. The whole experience would be more enjoyable if I had the proper attire and cold weather gear. Without it, I'm cold and uncomfortable the majority of the time spent outside of my sleeping bag.  For the rest of the day I post up at the Stage Stop Coffee Shop.  Inside it’s warm and they have big comfy chairs and free wifi.  Read, write, research…..and chat with the revolving door of patrons trying, like me, to wait out the storm.  I talk with a long distance hiker who has already walked hundreds of miles to get here; and is now planning a hike into the Grand Canyon and up the other side, emerging on the north rim. I chat with a family on vacation that is impressed with the trip I myself am on, and they even buy me a sandwich I inhale appreciatively.  

It’s all clear skies and sunshine the following morning and I realize that I don’t care about losing yesterday to the storm.  With no schedule or time frame to think about there's no reason to stress about it.  In fact, I rather enjoyed the break from hiking and the chance to explore the town, talk to the people…..read a book.  Sometimes I feel guilty if I don’t get anything constructive done in a day, but sometime stillness is necessary.  We’re obsessed with movement. Moving forward, moving up, climbing the ladder, be a go-getter, get ahead.  What’s next? Now what? All these described as virtues.  While stillness is a vice, always vaguely negative.  Stagnant, stuck in a rut, not going anywhere. Sloth is one the the seven deadly sins for christ's sake.  But I don’t think it’s all that bad. It’s ok to take time to enjoy where you are instead of constantly searching for the next thing. To look AROUND instead of only looking forward. Tunnel Vision…. Anyway, I enjoyed my lazy day away from the trail.  I’m fully recharged and ready to keep looking.....   

I wander the Rim trail that runs along the edge of the Caynon for a few miles taking pictures and admiring the views.  When I'm tired I post up at the next bus stop and wait for the shuttle to run me back to the head of the trail where the Jeep is parked.  While I wait I count 22 different people mindlessly staring at screens in one form or another. No one even acknowledges the people around them and it’s disheartening. The irony is not lost on me that I’m currently starring at a screen to write this while simultaneously bitching about people staring at screens. I’ll also point the irony of ME bitching about people not talking to each other considering the fact that 9 times out of 10 I'll go out of my way to avoid talking to people. At this particular moment tho, I’m disgusted by the hold over us that technology has attained. And to be honest, it ticks me off that people are sitting here, eyes and minds fixed on numbers of ‘likes’ and ‘followers’ when, if they just looked up they could stare at one of the naturals wonders of the world.  I board the bus and avoid eye contact with all of them.  

33.) Nature Monetized.......Entrepreneurial Indians......A Consolation Prize

     On my way out of town I go right passed Slide Rock State Park so I stop and sneak in the way I found earlier in the week when the place was closed.  This time it’s packed, with families and kids playing in the natural waterslides. There are pools too, where the waters deeper and calmer, but it’s ice fuckin’ cold. I dive in once to be able to say I did it, and I’m quickly drying myself and standing in the sun.  It’s not my cup of tea at the moment, but I bet in the summertime this is an oasis in the desert.

     After two weeks in Sedona it feels good to be on the road again.  I head toward Supai with visions of sapphire blue waterfalls in my head. Later, I reach the lone hotel that operates anywhere near the falls.  I go in and tell the lady at the desk I wanna see the waterfalls. Evidently, everybody wants to see the waterfalls…and you need reservations months in advance.  

     The place is on an Indian reservation and these Indians run a tight ship.  IF I had a reservation, I could drive down a single-lane dirt road, to a parking lot in the middle of the desert. 8 miles further on, is the Supai camp which I must pass through to get to the waterfalls.  From here I can park, parking is $5 a day, and hire a donkey team to bring me and all my gear back to the camp…..for $200.  I don’t have $200 to spend on a donkey so the woman tells me I could hike the 8 miles for free if I want.  That sounds rough but she says it’s pretty flat, so I start to think I could probably handle it.  

“So, I can just hike back there, then drop my stuff and go see the water falls?” 

      “Well, the falls are a little over a mile passed the camp…and there’s a $40 dollar entry fee to the camp.”  I respond by just blinking at her.  Then ask, “Well, once I’m in can I like hang out for a few days. Pitch a tent and all that shit? You know, make it worth my while?” 

“Sure….If you had a reservation. And camping is seventeen dollars a night.”  It’s starting to get expensive but $17 a night is actually a pretty good price for camping close to a place that's as beautiful as this place is supposed to be.  

“Seventeen a night, that's not that bad,”  but she corrects me.  

“Seven-DEE dollars a night, sir.” Seventy bucks a night for camping! Are you serious! That’s crazy talk and I can’t afford it, so without knowing where I’m going next I set off back into there Arizona desert.  I need a place to sleep, but there's nothing around except a small wooden church.  I pull around the side to somewhere that seems to be out of the way and climb in the back of the jeep to lay down. I convince myself that a church is supposed to be a sanctuary for wayward travelers, and no one should hassle me for sleeping here because that’s exactly what I am, a wayward traveler…..and all I need for the night, is sanctuary. 

     It turns out to be true and I remain unmolested till morning when I consult my atlas and decide that since I don’t get to see the waterfalls my consolation prize has gotta be the Grand Canyon.  Any day your consolation prize is the Grand Canyon, is a pretty good day and I hit the road looking forward to the experience.  

     

     After a few hours of driving I pass a billboard for a place called Bearizona.  It sounds like a nice break so I pull in and pay $20 to drive passed sleeping bears.  There is a place to park and walk around, like a small zoo.  They do have a bear cub that is awful cute when he falls off his little tree stump wrestling his blanket, and the owl at the bird show was pretty cool, how it can fly silently,  but I think the twenty bucks would have served me better in the jeep’s gas tank.

   
     The beauty of the Grand Canyon is unspeakable. Beyond words. And it goes on forever.  You don’t get to see this view when you first arrive. You have to wait in a mass of vehicles several lanes wide that moves at a snails pace….if its moving at all.  I had to wait in line a good 20 minutes before I even reached the beginning of the season pass lane.  Once I got there I was able to merge to the left and zip passed most of the traffic.  I look out on a sea of cars, each paying $25 to just enter the park. I paid $80 for my season pass that gets me into any National Park for free.  It’s by far the best investment I made for my trip and during my stay at the South Rim it pays for it’s self and them some. After I’m in, the signs direct me passed the first two parking lots indicating that they’re full. I pull into the third, quickly find a spot and power walk in the direction of the rim. The visitors center area is packed, it’s a tourist attraction. But seeing the Grand Canyon can’t be described, even if it is from the middle of a throng of tourists. And no picture will ever do it justice, as soon you put a border around something you steal its essence. 

When you stand on the rim of the Grand Canyon you can feel its presence.  Sitting and staring at it becomes a legitimate activity.  I see couples posting up in lawn chairs sitting down and relaxing to take in the view.  

I grab some maps and ask some questions at the visitors center and learn of the free shuttles and the schedules and also of more dispersed camping just out side the park.  That means free! I cruise out of the park and down a dirt road until I find an adequate campsite.             With that noted, I head back down the dirt track to where, right across the street, is a hotel with a sports bar. I grab a few beers and watch the Hawks tie the series with a Kaner, OT winner. That's one helluva day!