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10/05 Bright Angel Trail- I took off on this trip with DNally, just a few months after telling Nan that I had to call off our marriage. So I needed to get away. Dave and I originally planned to take off through the Arizona Strip and go to Surprise Canyon in the Grand Parashant area of the Arizona Strip. The weather seemed pretty good, nice blue skies when we left our home, and we had about 90 miles of dirt road to get to the trailhead in this extremely remote part of the Arizona Strip, which in general is one of the last real wild places in the lower 48 states. There are no facilities to be found once you left St. George, and you’re lucky to find another vehicle pass you for the entire day. The road was smooth and easy going until about 2/3rds of the way to the destination, when we started gaining elevation. All of the sudden, due to a big rain storm (and snow at this higher elevation of about 5500 feet) the night before, the road became real muddy and we actually came to some snow along the road. We started debating as to whether to continue or not, we saw a couple of cars doing the same; in fact one of them was a US Government truck doing some survey work down there. They explained to us that there was a big storm the night before and the road only got worse the further we went towards Surprise Canyon.
We decided to abort our trip to this section of the Strip, so we turned around - dejected. Dave suggested that we go to North Kaibab Plateau and the North Rim of Grand Canyon instead, which would be a good 4 more hours drive at least from where we turned around. I didn’t have anything better to do, plus I just wanted to escape the household, so I agreed. But he said he wanted to go home first and maybe we’d go the next day. I ended up just driving out there by myself that day, and Dave agreed to meet up with me at the trailhead early the next day.
We were approaching the last day of October, so when I got to the National Park that evening the North Rim was about to close up in a couple of days. In fact, the park’s campground was officially closed for the season, but they allowed campers to come in, there just would no maintenance or staff on board to help out. Didn’t matter to me, as long as I could find a place to pitch my tent, I was fine. I never camped in this campground , but throughout the season when it’s opened, usually mid-May to end of October, it is a zoo and jampacked with campers. But this last Sunday night of October, there were very few other campers – although there was one family with a very loud little child that disturbed me into the night. I did do some little hiking from the campground along the rim over to the Bright Angel viewpoint, which was right by the cabins and lodge. But most of the evening was spent relaxing with some nice cold drinks and looking at the aspens, some of which were still golden in color. That’s perhaps my favorite part of the North Kaibab, even maybe more so than even the Grand Canyon rim views, and that is the Aspens in fall - quaking Aspens, with the golden leaves quaking in the breeze.
The next morning, Dave and I met early and set off. This hike starts at the North Kaibab Trailhead and goes straight down – eventually to the river and Phantom Ranch. We weren’t going that far, we just planned a 1 night camp at Cottonwood Campground about 7 miles down along the Bright Angel Trail.
The starting elevation is over 7000 feet so you’re up in the Pines and aspens, and it’s nice and cool at this time in the morning. It’s steadily down, and soon you come to a great open viewpoint looking right down the canyon, and you can see the faint, small trail that you’ll be taking for the next 4 miles before it gets hidden around the bend of the canyon. There are points where you really can’t imagine a trail being, where it hugs along the cliff, but I’ve done this trail before and was confident I wouldn’t freak out along that section of the hike. At this viewpoint you could see 50-60 miles south to the San Francisco Peaks and Mt. Humphrey, which is Arizona’s highest peak at 12,800 feet (I climbed that about 2 years earlier). From there you keep going down, through a man-made tunnel, down to cross a bridge high above the creek bed, at-this time dry.
Then you come to the spot where you are hugging the side of a cliff, the trail being about the width of a city-sidewalk. Only here, there is a drop-off of over 500 feet down into the canyon below. I was a little nervous, carrying my backpack and all. All I could think about was a poor old man who was walking with his wife a few months earlier and accidentally (??) tripped and fell off into the canyon to his death. I was trying to picture where that could have occurred along this trail. But the views along this portion kept getting better, and finally the trail opened up a bit more and we started descending.
At about the 6 mile mark, you dropped down to the actual creek where water flowed, right where Roaring Springs came out of the cliffs across the canyon and creek. This was a lush and cooler area, thanks to the springs. It wasn’t as impressive as Thunder River, but it was a nice scenic spot never-the-less. From here on out we’d be walking along Bright Angel Creek, which was flowing real good and swiftly down, with falls and cascades all along the way.
At mile 6, with 2 more miles to go before our campground, we came to a little house that sits at the confluence of the 2 creeks. A park ranger named Bruce Aitkens and his wife live here, and have lived here for 33 years. He is part-time painter, and his Grand Canyon artwork sells from anywhere between $1000 to $30000. We were filling up our waterbottles at the pump outside in their yard, and using their bathroom, which they permit. Mrs. Aitkens came out to talk to Dave and I, and we talked for about 45 minutes. She told us that they were actually packing up and getting ready to move out of this nice cozy house; move date being about 5 days from now. She told us about how they raised their kid here a few years back, how they packed all their food and supplies in by using mules coming down that 6 miles that we just came down. We said goodbye and on we went.
We came to Cottonwood Campground in early afternoon, found a spot to throw our packs down. There were mostly vacant sites at this time, not too many people were going to stay here this night. We then proceeded down the trail along the creek for about another mile or two and then took off across the creek into a small canyon, where we climbed up a high hill and back a side creek, to eventually make it to Ribbon Falls. This is another one of those special places hidden away down in the Grand Canyon. It’s a nice place to strip down out of your smelly, grimy clothes and take a dip into the pool of water under a 60 foot ribbon-like falls. We stayed out there for awhile, then continued back to the campground.
Our campsite was ideal, quiet and cool. You could actually see straight up to where Bright Angel Point stuck out; the place where everyday hundreds of tourist hang out to get their first glance of the Grand Canyon from the North Rim. You couldn’t see anything as far as human existence from below, structures or people, but you knew it was up there, some 5000 feet above. The campground itself is situated not far from the creek, and pinned in to the high, colorful, reddish cliffs on both sides.
When I awoke at around 4:30 in the morning, I couldn’t get back to sleep. So I ended up laying on my back outside in the open air. And what I saw for the next hour or so till sunrise was one of the most spectacular sights in my life. There was a thin crescent moon just above the cliff to the west. This was faint enough to allow the viewing a tons of stars; but bright enough to cast a moon glow on the reddish Grand Canyon cliffs. And to top it off, there must have been a meteor shower going on that night. Every 30-60 seconds, one shooting star after another raced across the sky. It was like I was dreaming. I must have uh’d and ah’d all morning long. I debated if I should wake up Dave, and I didn’t. Figured if he had any trouble sleeping, he would have heard me- sounding like a young kid at a 4th of July firework show.
We took off back up the trail in the morning. Taking our time, it was a tough climb up that 5000 feet with backpack and all. Two miles into the hike and back at the Aitkens house, we freshened up a bit and Bruce came out to greet us. We ended up talking for at least an hour with him, he was very hospitable. One reason he was so nice, he saw my Farm Aid Shirt (Neil Young and Willie Nelsons annual benefit concert) and he and I both being big Neil fans ended up talking about Neil and what a great musician and person he is.
But the gist of the conversation was what was causing him to vacate his house down here in the secluded spot in the Grand Canyon, where he and his family had lived most of their lives. Bruce was a cool, old hippy-type of guy. Long, whitish hair, and very friendly. He said that he, and most employees of the National Parks, were quite disenchanted with the Bush administration and it’s policies regarding the environment in general, and specifically the national parks. Since this is right up Dave and my interest as well, we talked about this with Bruce. He said that the Park Service, led by the Superintendant of the parks who is non-friendly to the preservation of the parks, were phasing out his job down there and that it was even possible that in a few years they would propose making this house of his a stopping off point for very wealthy people (probably donors from the Energy and logging industries), where they would be helicoptered down. I don’t think this will ever happen, but it would a downright crime if they would allow people to fly down to a heliport and live in a remote canyon, in a place where now the only way down is to hike or take mules. Bruce went on and on, and we went on and on, about the environmental causes. We exchanged emails (yes, even down here you could email people).
We decided to abort our trip to this section of the Strip, so we turned around - dejected. Dave suggested that we go to North Kaibab Plateau and the North Rim of Grand Canyon instead, which would be a good 4 more hours drive at least from where we turned around. I didn’t have anything better to do, plus I just wanted to escape the household, so I agreed. But he said he wanted to go home first and maybe we’d go the next day. I ended up just driving out there by myself that day, and Dave agreed to meet up with me at the trailhead early the next day.
We were approaching the last day of October, so when I got to the National Park that evening the North Rim was about to close up in a couple of days. In fact, the park’s campground was officially closed for the season, but they allowed campers to come in, there just would no maintenance or staff on board to help out. Didn’t matter to me, as long as I could find a place to pitch my tent, I was fine. I never camped in this campground , but throughout the season when it’s opened, usually mid-May to end of October, it is a zoo and jampacked with campers. But this last Sunday night of October, there were very few other campers – although there was one family with a very loud little child that disturbed me into the night. I did do some little hiking from the campground along the rim over to the Bright Angel viewpoint, which was right by the cabins and lodge. But most of the evening was spent relaxing with some nice cold drinks and looking at the aspens, some of which were still golden in color. That’s perhaps my favorite part of the North Kaibab, even maybe more so than even the Grand Canyon rim views, and that is the Aspens in fall - quaking Aspens, with the golden leaves quaking in the breeze.
The next morning, Dave and I met early and set off. This hike starts at the North Kaibab Trailhead and goes straight down – eventually to the river and Phantom Ranch. We weren’t going that far, we just planned a 1 night camp at Cottonwood Campground about 7 miles down along the Bright Angel Trail.
The starting elevation is over 7000 feet so you’re up in the Pines and aspens, and it’s nice and cool at this time in the morning. It’s steadily down, and soon you come to a great open viewpoint looking right down the canyon, and you can see the faint, small trail that you’ll be taking for the next 4 miles before it gets hidden around the bend of the canyon. There are points where you really can’t imagine a trail being, where it hugs along the cliff, but I’ve done this trail before and was confident I wouldn’t freak out along that section of the hike. At this viewpoint you could see 50-60 miles south to the San Francisco Peaks and Mt. Humphrey, which is Arizona’s highest peak at 12,800 feet (I climbed that about 2 years earlier). From there you keep going down, through a man-made tunnel, down to cross a bridge high above the creek bed, at-this time dry.
Then you come to the spot where you are hugging the side of a cliff, the trail being about the width of a city-sidewalk. Only here, there is a drop-off of over 500 feet down into the canyon below. I was a little nervous, carrying my backpack and all. All I could think about was a poor old man who was walking with his wife a few months earlier and accidentally (??) tripped and fell off into the canyon to his death. I was trying to picture where that could have occurred along this trail. But the views along this portion kept getting better, and finally the trail opened up a bit more and we started descending.
At about the 6 mile mark, you dropped down to the actual creek where water flowed, right where Roaring Springs came out of the cliffs across the canyon and creek. This was a lush and cooler area, thanks to the springs. It wasn’t as impressive as Thunder River, but it was a nice scenic spot never-the-less. From here on out we’d be walking along Bright Angel Creek, which was flowing real good and swiftly down, with falls and cascades all along the way.
At mile 6, with 2 more miles to go before our campground, we came to a little house that sits at the confluence of the 2 creeks. A park ranger named Bruce Aitkens and his wife live here, and have lived here for 33 years. He is part-time painter, and his Grand Canyon artwork sells from anywhere between $1000 to $30000. We were filling up our waterbottles at the pump outside in their yard, and using their bathroom, which they permit. Mrs. Aitkens came out to talk to Dave and I, and we talked for about 45 minutes. She told us that they were actually packing up and getting ready to move out of this nice cozy house; move date being about 5 days from now. She told us about how they raised their kid here a few years back, how they packed all their food and supplies in by using mules coming down that 6 miles that we just came down. We said goodbye and on we went.
We came to Cottonwood Campground in early afternoon, found a spot to throw our packs down. There were mostly vacant sites at this time, not too many people were going to stay here this night. We then proceeded down the trail along the creek for about another mile or two and then took off across the creek into a small canyon, where we climbed up a high hill and back a side creek, to eventually make it to Ribbon Falls. This is another one of those special places hidden away down in the Grand Canyon. It’s a nice place to strip down out of your smelly, grimy clothes and take a dip into the pool of water under a 60 foot ribbon-like falls. We stayed out there for awhile, then continued back to the campground.
Our campsite was ideal, quiet and cool. You could actually see straight up to where Bright Angel Point stuck out; the place where everyday hundreds of tourist hang out to get their first glance of the Grand Canyon from the North Rim. You couldn’t see anything as far as human existence from below, structures or people, but you knew it was up there, some 5000 feet above. The campground itself is situated not far from the creek, and pinned in to the high, colorful, reddish cliffs on both sides.
When I awoke at around 4:30 in the morning, I couldn’t get back to sleep. So I ended up laying on my back outside in the open air. And what I saw for the next hour or so till sunrise was one of the most spectacular sights in my life. There was a thin crescent moon just above the cliff to the west. This was faint enough to allow the viewing a tons of stars; but bright enough to cast a moon glow on the reddish Grand Canyon cliffs. And to top it off, there must have been a meteor shower going on that night. Every 30-60 seconds, one shooting star after another raced across the sky. It was like I was dreaming. I must have uh’d and ah’d all morning long. I debated if I should wake up Dave, and I didn’t. Figured if he had any trouble sleeping, he would have heard me- sounding like a young kid at a 4th of July firework show.
We took off back up the trail in the morning. Taking our time, it was a tough climb up that 5000 feet with backpack and all. Two miles into the hike and back at the Aitkens house, we freshened up a bit and Bruce came out to greet us. We ended up talking for at least an hour with him, he was very hospitable. One reason he was so nice, he saw my Farm Aid Shirt (Neil Young and Willie Nelsons annual benefit concert) and he and I both being big Neil fans ended up talking about Neil and what a great musician and person he is.
But the gist of the conversation was what was causing him to vacate his house down here in the secluded spot in the Grand Canyon, where he and his family had lived most of their lives. Bruce was a cool, old hippy-type of guy. Long, whitish hair, and very friendly. He said that he, and most employees of the National Parks, were quite disenchanted with the Bush administration and it’s policies regarding the environment in general, and specifically the national parks. Since this is right up Dave and my interest as well, we talked about this with Bruce. He said that the Park Service, led by the Superintendant of the parks who is non-friendly to the preservation of the parks, were phasing out his job down there and that it was even possible that in a few years they would propose making this house of his a stopping off point for very wealthy people (probably donors from the Energy and logging industries), where they would be helicoptered down. I don’t think this will ever happen, but it would a downright crime if they would allow people to fly down to a heliport and live in a remote canyon, in a place where now the only way down is to hike or take mules. Bruce went on and on, and we went on and on, about the environmental causes. We exchanged emails (yes, even down here you could email people).
The rest of the climb went on with no huge surprises. But that day, when I got back home and checked out my emails, I found an email awaiting me from Bruce. Attached was a photo he had taken that day, taken after a storm had moved out of the canyon. It was taken from his porch looking across the creek up the canyon with a rainbow streaked across the sky and from one side of the canyon to the other. That’s the last I’ve heard about this canyon man. See photo above
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