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(Kevin, feel free to move to "other places" if more appropriate)
Grand Canyon Hike: A Tale of Beauty and Survival
With eager anticipation, we drove into the Grand Canyon region for our first views and our first desert hiking experience. There is nothing extraordinary to be seen upon approaching the canyon, save lots of juniper trees, until you’re right at the rim. Then it hits you right in the face. There are no words to describe it. Some have cried at their first view of this incredibly stunning creation of nature. Far from being a dead hole in the ground, it is a living, breathing 277-mile-long entity, with a large variety of flora and fauna, rock formations, fossils, geologic wonders, ghosts of past dwellers and nearby home to people of the Hopi, Navajo, Havasupai, Paiute, and Hualapai tribes. It’s 18 miles wide at its widest point, with a tiny stream flowing through it at 2400 ft. elevation, better known as the Colorado River. The highest point is on the North Rim, at 7,800 ft. Six of seven world climatic belts are found here. It contains 70 species of mammals, 250 species of birds, 25 reptiles, and 5 amphibians. Generally it is 25 degrees hotter in the gorge than it is at the rim. And there are too many wildflowers to count. A simple mnemonic helped us to remember the principal canyon layers: Know The Canyon’s History; Study Rocks Made By Time. First letter stand for Kaibab Limestone, Toroweap formation, Coconino sandstone, Hermit shale, Supai formation, Redwall limestone, Muav limestone, Bright Angel shale, and Tapeats sandstone. There is also an eighth layer, the Visnu schist, which does not fit into the mnemonic. It all truly did take our breath away – and would soon do so again in a more sinister and physical sense!
Six hikers (Jan, Jack, Mark, Lani, Joanne, and Dick), all from various parts of the country converged at the El Tovar Hotel at the Grand Canyon, some of us meeting for the first time, and others renewing old acquaintances. Jan was the organizer of the group. Five were musicians and one (Jack) was a writer. All were experienced hikers. One (Lani) was a marathon runner. All but two (Joanne and Dick) had a fair amount of Grand Canyon and desert hiking experience. The emails had been flying for months, as we made plans for packing and pre and post-canyon details. I did what I could to keep weight to a minimum, but my pack at its heaviest weighed about 43 lb., including food and six quarts of water for the one dry camp. In actuality I would not need to carry that much, as the dry camp was at the end of the trip, when we would have eaten most of the food, so most of our packs were basically in the 30s for a six-day trip.
Applications for permits to overnight in the canyon must be applied for four months in advance, and they process a couple of hundred on a daily basis. We were lucky to have received a permit for a variation of our second choice from the ranger. The plan was to take the Hermit Trail down to the Tonto Trail over to Monument Creek, back to the junction and over to Boucher Rapids and up the Boucher Trail to the Dripping Springs Trail, over to the Hermit Trail and out. However, this itinerary was not to happen, as will be seen later.
The Hermit Trail is at 6,640 ft. at the rim. The trail was first used as an indian route, then improved by prospectors (known then as the Horsethief Trail). The modern version of the trail began in 1896, with further improvements when the Santa Fe Railroad took it over around 1911, in order to bypass the toll being charged on the Bright Angel Trail. They also constructed “Hermit’s Camp,” though nothing remains of it other than the stone foundation. The trail immediately sinks like a stone, first dropping 1300 ft. in 1.3 miles, almost always with spectacular views, and some excellent fossil specimens right on the trail within the first quarter mile or so. It then alternates with traverses that are more or less level with shorter drops, and finally, through a spectacular series of switchbacks known as Cathedral Stairs (aptly named, with the canyon wall backdrop) the trail dumps you out onto the Tonto at about 3300 ft. From there, we headed east to Monument Creek campground (named for a towering monolith just north of the CG). Total of just under 9 miles that day.
We started the hike at approximately 9:30 AM. TRIP MISTAKE #1. As trails go, this one is fairly straightforward. Or should I say straightdownward! The trail is mostly dirt, rock, and dust, fairly easily to hike. There are no real route-finding issues, save for a few moments of crossing some slides where huge boulders dropped off of the side of the canyon and littered the trail. Some portions of the upper and lower sections of the trail even have “paved” areas of cobblestone from times past when mules regularly descended the trail. Most of the traverses were embedded along the sides of cliffs, with several sections of steep drop-off. The “sides” of the canyon do not form a ring, but rather are a complex series of side canyons and bluffs. Imagine being on a lake and seeing the shoreline appear to be smooth in the distance, but when you actually paddle it, you see all of the coves and inlets. Similarly so in the Grand Canyon, except that you have to hike all of those coves and inlets! Written warnings about height exposure seemed exaggerated to us, and this was not to be an issue for anyone in our party.
Oh…did I mention that it’s hot in the canyon? Very hot. How hot does it feel? Turn your oven on and stick your head in the opening. That’s about it, but without much escape, save for the shade, which is at a premium in the canyon. The forecast was for over 100 degrees each day in the gorge, much higher than the May average. That afternoon, Jack’s thermometer registered 104.5 degrees. The southwestern sun is intense! Water is the nectar of the gods there, and shade takes on a whole new importance. They are at the top of the list of principal tools of survival.
What follows is a description of the second half of the first day in the canyon. It is not easy to write, and is somewhat of an emotional experience for me, as you may soon surmise. It may read a little melodramatic at times, but it was that way for us. At some point just above the Cathedral Stairs the group of six decided to split into two groups, basically fast and slow. I was never clear as to the reason for this, and I label it TRIP MISTAKE #2. Joanne asked me to stay back with her, which I did, along with Jack. We weren’t ever really that far apart and could often see each other. Toward the bottom of the Cathedral Stairs, Jan (group leader) called to Joanne to ask how she was doing. “Tired” was the reply. He kept moving, and he and the rest of his group disappeared through a cleft in the trail, just past the intersection with the Tonto Trail. Joanne stumbled. I didn’t think a thing of it. Then she stumbled again, and again. I suggested she try to focus on the trail and her footwork. She responded with words that made no sense. Clearly she was in trouble. With each step, she became more disoriented and clumsy, and her speech more distant. She fell frequently. I continued to try to get her to move until we found some shade. She started to stumble precariously, as the trail was becoming quite precipitous in spots. I held onto her shirt, trying to pull her away from the side. I tried to get her to drink, but she would have none of it, and told me to go on while she rested (not considered, even for an instant). There was NO shade and it was over 104 degrees of intense heat and sun. Jack and I talked and we agreed that he would try to go on ahead to catch up to the others for aid. I had about one inch of Gatorade in my Nalgene, half of which I saved for Joanne and the other half for Jack’s journey ahead. We were both otherwise out of water, as was Joanne. I asked Jack to call back if he noticed any shade within the next few hundred feet. MIRACLE #1 – ample shade was just around the corner about 100 feet away! Getting Joanne to that spot was another story. That process took a half-hour of stumbling, falling, and picking up, and Joanne was quickly loosing consciousness. She was confused, dizzy, and unresponsive. I took her pack off and left it in the trail to make it easier for her.
Somehow we made it to the shade. Fortunately I was physically doing fine, just a little thirsty, and more scared for Joanne than anything else. She was virtually unconscious, trembling, mumbling incoherently at times, sometimes seeming to reach out to perform some unknown task. I continued to try to get her to drink the last of the Gatorade, which she would either refuse or try unsuccessfully to drink, spilling it down her shirt. Somehow I eventually managed to get it down her throat. I held her and talked to her, though I knew she didn’t hear me. The afternoon sun was waning, which was a blessing, though I didn’t know the status of the rescue. We were without a watch (TRAIL MISTAKE #3), though it seemed to me to be around 5:00 PM or so. I was becoming even more scared – this time for both of us. I was somewhat comforted by the fact that we both had our packs and were fully equipped to spend the night, save for the “nectar of the gods.” Joanne’s pack was still 100 feet back, but I was reluctant to leave her alone while I retrieved it, as a fall for Joanne at that point could have proven fatal.
MIRACLE #2: A combination of the shade and the dregs of the Gatorade must have been enough, as she started to come around. Over a period of several minutes her speech became clearer and her mind more lucid. Finally she reached the point where she was clear enough to know where she was and what the circumstances were, though she could not remember anything of the previous hour. She was clear enough for me to leave her and go back and retrieve her pack, which I did. Somehow the camera and empty water bottle must have fallen off on one of her stumbles, as they were not to be seen. I brought the pack back and we sat – and sat, and sat. We suddenly started having doubts: Jack ran into trouble; the group couldn’t find the campsite, or couldn’t find water. Fortunately none of this was the case.
MIRACLE #3: Over a distant rise in the trail ahead we saw a rapidly moving figure, which we recognized to be Lani, though she appeared more like an angel of God. Because of the twists and turns through side canyons it would take her a good half-hour to reach us. She finally appeared bearing the gift of two quarts of “nectar of the Gods,” in addition to enough for her own needs. Commanding both of us to drink, she examined Joanne as I related the events to her. Joanne was complaining of leg cramps and severe weakness at that point, and was unable to stand up. Lani massaged Joanne’s legs. In the chance that Joanne’s water bottle had some water in it, Lani went back for it and the camera, but found only the camera. Shortly thereafter, Mark arrived, bringing more “nectar,” though appearing quite exhausted (a fit man, probably in his late 30’s). After considering various options, the three of us decided to walk Joanne out slowly. She could barely stand at first, then eventually got her sea legs and managed to creep along at a snail’s pace, taking breaks every 50-100 feet or so. I don’t have a clear sense of how long it took to travel the almost two miles to Monument Creek. As we approached the area, darkness was coming on fast. The creek and monument were in a side canyon, which we had to descend steeply, and the trail became more rocky. We donned our headlamps as we came to the trickiest part of the trail to follow. The trail weaved around several formations with cairns to guide us – assuming we could find them all. Finally we saw the light of the camp, and Jan came to meet us with more water. Jack had set up his ground cloth and pillow for Joanne, who immediately crashed and fell asleep. The rest of us watered down, ate, and pondered the many mistakes of the day (without playing the blame-game) and what our next move should be. We chose to sleep on it and decide in the morning.
The next morning everyone was more refreshed, though tired, and Joanne was 75% better. We decided that I should call the ranger on the satellite phone (carried by the front party – TRIP MISTAKE #4),which we had rented to inform him of the incident and Joanne’s condition, and to see what his recommendations were. He quickly agreed with us that we should not attempt the Boucher Trail up to the rim (our original plan), given Joanne’s condition. He gave us permission (we were under permit) to stay another day at Monument Creek, and recommended that Joanne take that time to re-hydrate. We then had two options. First: head east on the Tonto to a dry camp at Salt Creek Camp. Closer Cedar Spring CG was too close, and we were informed that Horn Creek, the third one over, was radio-active. Then head up to the Indian Garden CG on the Bright Angel Trail (with no guarantee of a campsite) and out. The second option: Head west on the Tonto, retracing our steps to the Hermit Trail, continue on to Hermit Creek CG, then back to the junction and up the Hermit Trail. The Bright Angel Trail would have been much easier hiking, but at ten miles, a longer trip, and we were uncertain if Joanne was ready for hauling the required 6 quarts of water to a dry camp. We opted for a return trip on the Hermit.
The extra day at Monument Creek was pleasant and uneventful. Beauty of all sorts was around us, and we spend the day exploring, resting, drinking, and chasing the shade from one side of the CG to the other, and finding it principally under a cottonwood tree and a ledge. Water was plentiful. Camp “amenities” included an ammo box for food storage and a three-seater composting toilet, designed in such a way as to accommodate three at a time with privacy, though each seat is right out in the open. We were not alone at the site; a young couple from Canada was camped above us. The woman, whose expertise had something to do with saving people from rock slides, was almost three months pregnant.
The next day we were to embark for Hermit Creek, but we would not repeat our earlier mistake. We decided we would leave around 5:00 AM to avoid the worst of the sun and to give Joanne full time to recuperate. This meant staying at the Monument Creek CG for the day. Around noon a group of six came through for a lunch break, planning to hike east. I do not know what cosmic force was at work that day, but not only was this group composed partially of musicians with indirect connections to our group, but even those who were not musicians were from the Albany area: Rensselaerville, near our town, and the other from Delmar, where Joanne grew up! They also delivered Joanne’s water bottle, which they had found on the trail. Plenty of lively friendly chatter ensued (probably the only “shop talk” we had during the entire trip), and we then said our goodbyes as they headed east toward the Bright Angel Trail. Jan, Jack, and Mark decided to hike that afternoon, visit Granite Rapids at the Colorado River, and work their way over to Hermit Creek and camp. I had thoughts of joining them, but there was no way I would leave Joanne. At some point during our stay at this campsite, Lani decided to break her little toe. One would think that to be a serious condition so far down in the canyon, but this was one super-human woman, who smiled it off as though it were a bug bite!
We left around 5:00 AM the next morning for Hermit Creek. Joanne was near normal by this time, and the hike proceeded without incident, across the four miles or so to the creek and our next campsite. As we approached the ‘S’ curves of switchbacks down into the creek, we ran into Mark, who on his way out of the canyon. Mark was not feeling well, and decided to leave the canyon on his own. We wished him well, and hoped we would see him again on a future hike. We were now five. Upon entering camp, we found Jan and Jack, who had spent a pleasant night. The site appeared somewhat more “civilized,” with clearly delineated sites, paths, composting toilet, and a “garden” of prickly pear cactus. We quickly scouted out a site and found what appeared to be the best one, up on a rise and under a cliff ledge. Water was flowing freely in the creek, and we discovered a delightful “bathtub” of water with a small waterfall flowing into it. It came equipped with a natural built-in ledge for a seat, shade, and a plentiful supply of fish. Needless to say, we spent a lot of time keeping cool there!
Several parties came through that day, and we appeared to have the premium spot. The cliffs surrounding the site were magnificent (somewhat reminiscent of an “Indiana Jones: Temple of Doom setting!). For entertainment, we were visited by numerous lizards (I’m guessing they were of the “spiney lizard” variety). The lizards made short work of the biting ants in the area, and I’d swear they showed off for Joanne’s camera by doing push-ups! Shade was plentiful under the ledge until about 1:00 PM, when we had to move to the “bathtub” or to various dappled shadings of small trees until the sun set. That evening we were visited by “Zoltan,” a Hungarian engineer living in North Carolina, who was hiking solo. His English was quite good, and we had a lively conversation that ranged from canyon trails to Russian occupation, hiking gear, creationism, museums, opera, Bartok, food dehydration, and politics.
Jan, always pushing himself, wanted to check out Hermit Creek Rapids in the middle of the next day. Jack joined him, not wanting Jan to go alone. After considerable discussion, our (Joanne’s, Lani’s, and Dick’s) plan was to leave at 4:00 PM, take the Tonto Trail over to Hermit Trail, up the Cathedral Stairs, camp at Breezy Point, and reach the rim the next day. Jan and Jack arrived back at the site just as we were preparing to leave – wiped out from his dayhike. Their plan was to have dinner, and “catch up” to us at the Hermit Trail junction, have all of us spend the night there, and head out. The reality was that we proceeded as our trio had planned, and Jan and Jack spent the night and a lazy morning at the junction, and we did not meet up again until up on the rim.
The hike up the “Cathedral Stairs” was a stiff one indeed, but we took our time and enjoyed it. At the top of the “stairs” it was another half mile or so to Breezy Point. Our night on the side of the cliff was a glorious one! Breezy was the operative word, but a gentle one, and the site offered one of the widest vistas of the entire trip, complete with sunset, followed by “in-your-face” constellations. Far from static and dull, the changing colors of the canyon throughout each day are truly kaleidoscopic.
We arose at 4:00 the next morning, in anticipation of a long hike out, trying to beat the sun. We had a few head-scratching moments here and there, as we made our way through a few of the boulder fields, but by and large it was a straightforward hike. Our first “goal” was Santa Maria Springs for a water and rest stop. It is essentially a lean-to with a bench and rocking chair, enclosed by a “natural” barrier of growing tree branches for shade. The “spring” is a small pipe that drips water into a metal trough, about 2 ft. x 4 ft., which is filled with green slime. We filtered (the water was delish), and chatted with a couple that had been camped at Hermit CG near us. Two and a half miles to go (remember that Lani was hiking on a broken toe). I don’t know where they all came from, but it seemed that everyone in the canyon was passing us on the way up! The switchbacks seemed to be more numerous and steeper than they were on the way down. We took our time, yet were mindful of the sun and decreasing shade, not wanting to have a repeat of the first day. We finally made it to the top, and waited a good two hours for Jan and Jack to arrive. Nothing to do but to shower, dress, and wend our way homeward, with a lifetime of memories (too many to have related in this tale), and, we hope, more wiser for the experience.
Dick
Grand Canyon Hike: A Tale of Beauty and Survival
With eager anticipation, we drove into the Grand Canyon region for our first views and our first desert hiking experience. There is nothing extraordinary to be seen upon approaching the canyon, save lots of juniper trees, until you’re right at the rim. Then it hits you right in the face. There are no words to describe it. Some have cried at their first view of this incredibly stunning creation of nature. Far from being a dead hole in the ground, it is a living, breathing 277-mile-long entity, with a large variety of flora and fauna, rock formations, fossils, geologic wonders, ghosts of past dwellers and nearby home to people of the Hopi, Navajo, Havasupai, Paiute, and Hualapai tribes. It’s 18 miles wide at its widest point, with a tiny stream flowing through it at 2400 ft. elevation, better known as the Colorado River. The highest point is on the North Rim, at 7,800 ft. Six of seven world climatic belts are found here. It contains 70 species of mammals, 250 species of birds, 25 reptiles, and 5 amphibians. Generally it is 25 degrees hotter in the gorge than it is at the rim. And there are too many wildflowers to count. A simple mnemonic helped us to remember the principal canyon layers: Know The Canyon’s History; Study Rocks Made By Time. First letter stand for Kaibab Limestone, Toroweap formation, Coconino sandstone, Hermit shale, Supai formation, Redwall limestone, Muav limestone, Bright Angel shale, and Tapeats sandstone. There is also an eighth layer, the Visnu schist, which does not fit into the mnemonic. It all truly did take our breath away – and would soon do so again in a more sinister and physical sense!
Six hikers (Jan, Jack, Mark, Lani, Joanne, and Dick), all from various parts of the country converged at the El Tovar Hotel at the Grand Canyon, some of us meeting for the first time, and others renewing old acquaintances. Jan was the organizer of the group. Five were musicians and one (Jack) was a writer. All were experienced hikers. One (Lani) was a marathon runner. All but two (Joanne and Dick) had a fair amount of Grand Canyon and desert hiking experience. The emails had been flying for months, as we made plans for packing and pre and post-canyon details. I did what I could to keep weight to a minimum, but my pack at its heaviest weighed about 43 lb., including food and six quarts of water for the one dry camp. In actuality I would not need to carry that much, as the dry camp was at the end of the trip, when we would have eaten most of the food, so most of our packs were basically in the 30s for a six-day trip.
Applications for permits to overnight in the canyon must be applied for four months in advance, and they process a couple of hundred on a daily basis. We were lucky to have received a permit for a variation of our second choice from the ranger. The plan was to take the Hermit Trail down to the Tonto Trail over to Monument Creek, back to the junction and over to Boucher Rapids and up the Boucher Trail to the Dripping Springs Trail, over to the Hermit Trail and out. However, this itinerary was not to happen, as will be seen later.
The Hermit Trail is at 6,640 ft. at the rim. The trail was first used as an indian route, then improved by prospectors (known then as the Horsethief Trail). The modern version of the trail began in 1896, with further improvements when the Santa Fe Railroad took it over around 1911, in order to bypass the toll being charged on the Bright Angel Trail. They also constructed “Hermit’s Camp,” though nothing remains of it other than the stone foundation. The trail immediately sinks like a stone, first dropping 1300 ft. in 1.3 miles, almost always with spectacular views, and some excellent fossil specimens right on the trail within the first quarter mile or so. It then alternates with traverses that are more or less level with shorter drops, and finally, through a spectacular series of switchbacks known as Cathedral Stairs (aptly named, with the canyon wall backdrop) the trail dumps you out onto the Tonto at about 3300 ft. From there, we headed east to Monument Creek campground (named for a towering monolith just north of the CG). Total of just under 9 miles that day.
We started the hike at approximately 9:30 AM. TRIP MISTAKE #1. As trails go, this one is fairly straightforward. Or should I say straightdownward! The trail is mostly dirt, rock, and dust, fairly easily to hike. There are no real route-finding issues, save for a few moments of crossing some slides where huge boulders dropped off of the side of the canyon and littered the trail. Some portions of the upper and lower sections of the trail even have “paved” areas of cobblestone from times past when mules regularly descended the trail. Most of the traverses were embedded along the sides of cliffs, with several sections of steep drop-off. The “sides” of the canyon do not form a ring, but rather are a complex series of side canyons and bluffs. Imagine being on a lake and seeing the shoreline appear to be smooth in the distance, but when you actually paddle it, you see all of the coves and inlets. Similarly so in the Grand Canyon, except that you have to hike all of those coves and inlets! Written warnings about height exposure seemed exaggerated to us, and this was not to be an issue for anyone in our party.
Oh…did I mention that it’s hot in the canyon? Very hot. How hot does it feel? Turn your oven on and stick your head in the opening. That’s about it, but without much escape, save for the shade, which is at a premium in the canyon. The forecast was for over 100 degrees each day in the gorge, much higher than the May average. That afternoon, Jack’s thermometer registered 104.5 degrees. The southwestern sun is intense! Water is the nectar of the gods there, and shade takes on a whole new importance. They are at the top of the list of principal tools of survival.
What follows is a description of the second half of the first day in the canyon. It is not easy to write, and is somewhat of an emotional experience for me, as you may soon surmise. It may read a little melodramatic at times, but it was that way for us. At some point just above the Cathedral Stairs the group of six decided to split into two groups, basically fast and slow. I was never clear as to the reason for this, and I label it TRIP MISTAKE #2. Joanne asked me to stay back with her, which I did, along with Jack. We weren’t ever really that far apart and could often see each other. Toward the bottom of the Cathedral Stairs, Jan (group leader) called to Joanne to ask how she was doing. “Tired” was the reply. He kept moving, and he and the rest of his group disappeared through a cleft in the trail, just past the intersection with the Tonto Trail. Joanne stumbled. I didn’t think a thing of it. Then she stumbled again, and again. I suggested she try to focus on the trail and her footwork. She responded with words that made no sense. Clearly she was in trouble. With each step, she became more disoriented and clumsy, and her speech more distant. She fell frequently. I continued to try to get her to move until we found some shade. She started to stumble precariously, as the trail was becoming quite precipitous in spots. I held onto her shirt, trying to pull her away from the side. I tried to get her to drink, but she would have none of it, and told me to go on while she rested (not considered, even for an instant). There was NO shade and it was over 104 degrees of intense heat and sun. Jack and I talked and we agreed that he would try to go on ahead to catch up to the others for aid. I had about one inch of Gatorade in my Nalgene, half of which I saved for Joanne and the other half for Jack’s journey ahead. We were both otherwise out of water, as was Joanne. I asked Jack to call back if he noticed any shade within the next few hundred feet. MIRACLE #1 – ample shade was just around the corner about 100 feet away! Getting Joanne to that spot was another story. That process took a half-hour of stumbling, falling, and picking up, and Joanne was quickly loosing consciousness. She was confused, dizzy, and unresponsive. I took her pack off and left it in the trail to make it easier for her.
Somehow we made it to the shade. Fortunately I was physically doing fine, just a little thirsty, and more scared for Joanne than anything else. She was virtually unconscious, trembling, mumbling incoherently at times, sometimes seeming to reach out to perform some unknown task. I continued to try to get her to drink the last of the Gatorade, which she would either refuse or try unsuccessfully to drink, spilling it down her shirt. Somehow I eventually managed to get it down her throat. I held her and talked to her, though I knew she didn’t hear me. The afternoon sun was waning, which was a blessing, though I didn’t know the status of the rescue. We were without a watch (TRAIL MISTAKE #3), though it seemed to me to be around 5:00 PM or so. I was becoming even more scared – this time for both of us. I was somewhat comforted by the fact that we both had our packs and were fully equipped to spend the night, save for the “nectar of the gods.” Joanne’s pack was still 100 feet back, but I was reluctant to leave her alone while I retrieved it, as a fall for Joanne at that point could have proven fatal.
MIRACLE #2: A combination of the shade and the dregs of the Gatorade must have been enough, as she started to come around. Over a period of several minutes her speech became clearer and her mind more lucid. Finally she reached the point where she was clear enough to know where she was and what the circumstances were, though she could not remember anything of the previous hour. She was clear enough for me to leave her and go back and retrieve her pack, which I did. Somehow the camera and empty water bottle must have fallen off on one of her stumbles, as they were not to be seen. I brought the pack back and we sat – and sat, and sat. We suddenly started having doubts: Jack ran into trouble; the group couldn’t find the campsite, or couldn’t find water. Fortunately none of this was the case.
MIRACLE #3: Over a distant rise in the trail ahead we saw a rapidly moving figure, which we recognized to be Lani, though she appeared more like an angel of God. Because of the twists and turns through side canyons it would take her a good half-hour to reach us. She finally appeared bearing the gift of two quarts of “nectar of the Gods,” in addition to enough for her own needs. Commanding both of us to drink, she examined Joanne as I related the events to her. Joanne was complaining of leg cramps and severe weakness at that point, and was unable to stand up. Lani massaged Joanne’s legs. In the chance that Joanne’s water bottle had some water in it, Lani went back for it and the camera, but found only the camera. Shortly thereafter, Mark arrived, bringing more “nectar,” though appearing quite exhausted (a fit man, probably in his late 30’s). After considering various options, the three of us decided to walk Joanne out slowly. She could barely stand at first, then eventually got her sea legs and managed to creep along at a snail’s pace, taking breaks every 50-100 feet or so. I don’t have a clear sense of how long it took to travel the almost two miles to Monument Creek. As we approached the area, darkness was coming on fast. The creek and monument were in a side canyon, which we had to descend steeply, and the trail became more rocky. We donned our headlamps as we came to the trickiest part of the trail to follow. The trail weaved around several formations with cairns to guide us – assuming we could find them all. Finally we saw the light of the camp, and Jan came to meet us with more water. Jack had set up his ground cloth and pillow for Joanne, who immediately crashed and fell asleep. The rest of us watered down, ate, and pondered the many mistakes of the day (without playing the blame-game) and what our next move should be. We chose to sleep on it and decide in the morning.
The next morning everyone was more refreshed, though tired, and Joanne was 75% better. We decided that I should call the ranger on the satellite phone (carried by the front party – TRIP MISTAKE #4),which we had rented to inform him of the incident and Joanne’s condition, and to see what his recommendations were. He quickly agreed with us that we should not attempt the Boucher Trail up to the rim (our original plan), given Joanne’s condition. He gave us permission (we were under permit) to stay another day at Monument Creek, and recommended that Joanne take that time to re-hydrate. We then had two options. First: head east on the Tonto to a dry camp at Salt Creek Camp. Closer Cedar Spring CG was too close, and we were informed that Horn Creek, the third one over, was radio-active. Then head up to the Indian Garden CG on the Bright Angel Trail (with no guarantee of a campsite) and out. The second option: Head west on the Tonto, retracing our steps to the Hermit Trail, continue on to Hermit Creek CG, then back to the junction and up the Hermit Trail. The Bright Angel Trail would have been much easier hiking, but at ten miles, a longer trip, and we were uncertain if Joanne was ready for hauling the required 6 quarts of water to a dry camp. We opted for a return trip on the Hermit.
The extra day at Monument Creek was pleasant and uneventful. Beauty of all sorts was around us, and we spend the day exploring, resting, drinking, and chasing the shade from one side of the CG to the other, and finding it principally under a cottonwood tree and a ledge. Water was plentiful. Camp “amenities” included an ammo box for food storage and a three-seater composting toilet, designed in such a way as to accommodate three at a time with privacy, though each seat is right out in the open. We were not alone at the site; a young couple from Canada was camped above us. The woman, whose expertise had something to do with saving people from rock slides, was almost three months pregnant.
The next day we were to embark for Hermit Creek, but we would not repeat our earlier mistake. We decided we would leave around 5:00 AM to avoid the worst of the sun and to give Joanne full time to recuperate. This meant staying at the Monument Creek CG for the day. Around noon a group of six came through for a lunch break, planning to hike east. I do not know what cosmic force was at work that day, but not only was this group composed partially of musicians with indirect connections to our group, but even those who were not musicians were from the Albany area: Rensselaerville, near our town, and the other from Delmar, where Joanne grew up! They also delivered Joanne’s water bottle, which they had found on the trail. Plenty of lively friendly chatter ensued (probably the only “shop talk” we had during the entire trip), and we then said our goodbyes as they headed east toward the Bright Angel Trail. Jan, Jack, and Mark decided to hike that afternoon, visit Granite Rapids at the Colorado River, and work their way over to Hermit Creek and camp. I had thoughts of joining them, but there was no way I would leave Joanne. At some point during our stay at this campsite, Lani decided to break her little toe. One would think that to be a serious condition so far down in the canyon, but this was one super-human woman, who smiled it off as though it were a bug bite!
We left around 5:00 AM the next morning for Hermit Creek. Joanne was near normal by this time, and the hike proceeded without incident, across the four miles or so to the creek and our next campsite. As we approached the ‘S’ curves of switchbacks down into the creek, we ran into Mark, who on his way out of the canyon. Mark was not feeling well, and decided to leave the canyon on his own. We wished him well, and hoped we would see him again on a future hike. We were now five. Upon entering camp, we found Jan and Jack, who had spent a pleasant night. The site appeared somewhat more “civilized,” with clearly delineated sites, paths, composting toilet, and a “garden” of prickly pear cactus. We quickly scouted out a site and found what appeared to be the best one, up on a rise and under a cliff ledge. Water was flowing freely in the creek, and we discovered a delightful “bathtub” of water with a small waterfall flowing into it. It came equipped with a natural built-in ledge for a seat, shade, and a plentiful supply of fish. Needless to say, we spent a lot of time keeping cool there!
Several parties came through that day, and we appeared to have the premium spot. The cliffs surrounding the site were magnificent (somewhat reminiscent of an “Indiana Jones: Temple of Doom setting!). For entertainment, we were visited by numerous lizards (I’m guessing they were of the “spiney lizard” variety). The lizards made short work of the biting ants in the area, and I’d swear they showed off for Joanne’s camera by doing push-ups! Shade was plentiful under the ledge until about 1:00 PM, when we had to move to the “bathtub” or to various dappled shadings of small trees until the sun set. That evening we were visited by “Zoltan,” a Hungarian engineer living in North Carolina, who was hiking solo. His English was quite good, and we had a lively conversation that ranged from canyon trails to Russian occupation, hiking gear, creationism, museums, opera, Bartok, food dehydration, and politics.
Jan, always pushing himself, wanted to check out Hermit Creek Rapids in the middle of the next day. Jack joined him, not wanting Jan to go alone. After considerable discussion, our (Joanne’s, Lani’s, and Dick’s) plan was to leave at 4:00 PM, take the Tonto Trail over to Hermit Trail, up the Cathedral Stairs, camp at Breezy Point, and reach the rim the next day. Jan and Jack arrived back at the site just as we were preparing to leave – wiped out from his dayhike. Their plan was to have dinner, and “catch up” to us at the Hermit Trail junction, have all of us spend the night there, and head out. The reality was that we proceeded as our trio had planned, and Jan and Jack spent the night and a lazy morning at the junction, and we did not meet up again until up on the rim.
The hike up the “Cathedral Stairs” was a stiff one indeed, but we took our time and enjoyed it. At the top of the “stairs” it was another half mile or so to Breezy Point. Our night on the side of the cliff was a glorious one! Breezy was the operative word, but a gentle one, and the site offered one of the widest vistas of the entire trip, complete with sunset, followed by “in-your-face” constellations. Far from static and dull, the changing colors of the canyon throughout each day are truly kaleidoscopic.
We arose at 4:00 the next morning, in anticipation of a long hike out, trying to beat the sun. We had a few head-scratching moments here and there, as we made our way through a few of the boulder fields, but by and large it was a straightforward hike. Our first “goal” was Santa Maria Springs for a water and rest stop. It is essentially a lean-to with a bench and rocking chair, enclosed by a “natural” barrier of growing tree branches for shade. The “spring” is a small pipe that drips water into a metal trough, about 2 ft. x 4 ft., which is filled with green slime. We filtered (the water was delish), and chatted with a couple that had been camped at Hermit CG near us. Two and a half miles to go (remember that Lani was hiking on a broken toe). I don’t know where they all came from, but it seemed that everyone in the canyon was passing us on the way up! The switchbacks seemed to be more numerous and steeper than they were on the way down. We took our time, yet were mindful of the sun and decreasing shade, not wanting to have a repeat of the first day. We finally made it to the top, and waited a good two hours for Jan and Jack to arrive. Nothing to do but to shower, dress, and wend our way homeward, with a lifetime of memories (too many to have related in this tale), and, we hope, more wiser for the experience.
Dick
. What are lucky guys !
with the possible exception of what would Edie have done w/out her CAMERA? 
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