I am not sure a better word can describe the Grand Canyon, although many words have tried. An immense hole in the groud, cut through solid rock over millions of years. A plethora of various animals habitate there. Water seeps from the most solid of these rocks where the porous nature of these said rocks is questioned. Plants, trees, grass, and cactus all live here in an otherwise inhospitable environment.
The vista from the rim is the view that 95 % of visitors to the park see when they gaze upon its, almost, infinite quality. But, diving deeper provides a surrealistic envoronment that is hidden from the guardrails and ice cream parlours at the top.
I began my hike on August 15th at about 7am. It was a free fee weekend at certain national parks around the US, in order to encourage getting outside. Something our nation tends to take for granted too often. The wind at the top was pretty intense. A nice respite from the wind was welcomed after dipping just below the surface.
I chose the Bright Angel trail for a couple of reasons. For one, it has pretty reliable, consistent water sources located at various points along the trail. And two, because I was hiking alone, it was more populated and if, God forbid, anything happened, someone would be along shortly.
As is the case in most hiking stories of the Bright Angel, the tourists take the cake at the top. Hi-top Nikes and Converse are more common than hiking boots for the first mile and a half. The further you descend, the less crowds you have to fight to pass. And after Indian Gardens, the numbers dwindle even more greatly.
I was feeling great heading down. The air was cool, the sun was rising, and I just happened to be smack dab in the middle of one of God's greatest creations.
I had hiked in the Canyon once before this. The far western section of the South Rim, by Dripping Springs. But I had yet to see the river. That was my goal.
I couldn't have prepared myself for what I would encounter. I have hiked a lot in my young life. I have been to the tops of mountains and through valleys. When you descend into the Grandest of Canyons you leave the preconcieved notions of what you thought the canyon was behind. You can look down from the scopes from in front of the Bright Angel Lodge and see hikers far below, maybe a mule train. But, hiking in, ironically, makes you feel like you are out of the canyon, even though you trudge deeper in. By this I mean that once you leave an overhanging or a ridge and the trail flattens out, you forget that you are in a canyon. You are no longer looking at the Big Picture from the top, you are getting the intimate welcome from the Canyon itself.
It holds another ironic notion. The desert, the dry, the inhospitable becomes the friendlist place on earth as you encounter other hikers enjoying the same thing you are enjoying. Short conversations with individuals in passing brought smiles to my face. A runner (passed once each way) on the longest, hardest running leg of his life, has time for some friendly conversation. No names need to be exchanged, maybe a place of origin, but the enjoyment of being deep in where few people, relatively speaking, have ever gone is just remarkable.
Overall, it was an incredible place. I have fallen in love with the canyon again. I told my mom yesterday that although I have never had that 'WOW' moment when first seeing the Canyon. I love it just the same, if not more than most. My parents tell me that I was only 7 months when I first went to the Canyon. We would go up every new years day. I think I need to bring back that tradition. I can think of no better way than celebrating the new year.
I hiked out, not quite feeling as good as I did going down, but I made it. 19 miles. Rim-Ranch-Rim. I have already vowed to go back. I had forgotten how amazing hiking is. As a runner, you tend to think, "How do I get to the finish as fast as possible?" The destination, in hiking, is only as important as the journey there. And I have missed that.
My parents and I went back again on Sunday. One, because it was another free fee day and my parents wanted to go again. But, also because our one and only President, Barack Obama, was going to be there too.
My sore legs weren't going to allow for too much hiking on Sunday. But, we took it leisurly, did the tourist thing. Waited with the masses for 50 minutes for the 30 second passing of Obama as he left in his bullet proof outfitted vehicle and 17 car entourage. (No kidding, probably 17 cars) Went to the Imax. Ate Navajo Tacos. It was an incredible day. God really does bless those who love him. And...It was my parents 23rd wedding anniversary.
I sometimes forget that my parents aren't true natives of this great region. Dad being from all over, mom from california. But, this region is as much a part of their lives as it is mine. I can't tell you how much of a priviledge it is for me to have grown up in the family I live in now. They afforded me the opportuinities to get outside. To enjoy what God has provided and really appreciate the place I live. Too many kids don't get that same invitation anymore. It is a huge shame.
I will leave you with a few more photos from my hike on Saturday.
No comments:
Post a Comment