Arizona: Sedona and the Grand Canyon
Note: I have a couple of pics in this entry, but you can find a ton more at the full size set on my Flickr album.
Me at the Oak Creek Canyon Vista
Friday, Jason and I headed out towards Sedona, AZ to see what good hiking we could find. First stop: The Oak Creek Canyon of the Coconino National Forest. Beautiful vista, but a little too limitedly touristy. We persevered on, driving through Uptown Sedona until we got to Red Rock State Park. We started on the marked trails, including a trip over a cute little plank bridge, until we got to a split. On one side: the marked Apache Fire trail. On the other: the great unknown, but with a Really Big Butte at the end. Guess what we chose? Yep. Big Rock it was. We hiked out for about an hour through inclines and long windy dried riverbed and made it pretty far, considering we'd gotten there later in the day. We made it to the base of the butte before we had to turn back for time. We saw lots of lizards and spiders. Big deer tracks. Lots of red dust. Not bad for some light hiking. We had dinner in Uptown Sedona, at an outdoor restaurant that boasted its own "misted patio." It's so dry out here that such things are apparently nice oases. Sedona was breathtakingly beautiful (I'd kill for a house there), but did sort of remind me of a beach resort town, only without the beach.
A Butte at Red Rock State Park
Today, Jason and I embarked on a Grand Canyon mule tour. The South Rim's Bright Angel Trail to Plateau point. Total roundtrip: 8 hrs, 12.2 miles, and 3,500 ft down (then back up again). Oh, and to top it off, the Bright Angel trail is one of America's ten most dangerous hikes.
The Bright Angel Trail
First of all, this is the only tour I've ever been on where the guide tries to talk you out of going. IF you pass the criteria for consideration (under 200 lbs with all your gear on, over 4'7", weight/height proportionate, etc.) you then get a 20 minute spiel from the corral manager that basically amounts to "if you are not in good muscular condition, DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT." Our guide described it as "the most difficult commercial tour you're like to ever hear about." It was repeated about six times "if you even are slightly worried that you don't think you can do this, we will give you a full refund now. If you leave this corral and you're wrong, it's a $3,500 rescue helicopter ride out of the ditch." Oh, and you'd better not be afraid of heights, sheer cliff faces, or a riding a giant freaking mule that likes to walk really close to the edge. Oh, and PS-- there are three times as many deaths at the Grand Canyon than at Mount Everest. At least five so far this year, in fact. Big signs all around about how a star athlete and Boston Marathon runner died on the trail a few years ago. But, um, don't worry. Trust your mule and you'll be okay.
Okay.
With all of this firmly in mind, we got up at 4am to make it to the corral for a weigh-in at 6:15. We were issued canteens and raincoats, then ushered through orientation. There, we were given a "mule motivator"-- PC jargon for a leather riding crop. (Which may be the first time I've ever used a crop for its intended purpose!) We were split into riding groups and paired with our mules. I got a smallish male named Seymour, and Jason got a monster of a beast named Norman. Two of our riding party dropped out before we left the corral.
Jason & Norman
From there, our guide, Kevin/K-Bar, started us down Bright Angel Trail. I was the first rider behind K-Bar, and Jason the last rider in our train of nine (I think they went by mule size). The first part of the trail was unbelievably steep, with sharp switchbacks that zig-zagged down the mountain. Seymour, bless him, really wanted to be the lead mule and kept trying to nose around Mack, K-Bar's mule. When he couldn't do that, he settled for walking ridiculously close to the sheer cliff faces and trying to eat the greenery below the edge. Uh. Yeah. Mildly unnerving. I had to show Seymour who was boss pretty early, as K-Bar warned us that while the mules are very sure-footed and temperate, they will try to test you to see if you're a "cupcake." If they find you to be soft, they'll do pretty much whatever they please, then take off at a run down the canyon if they find themselves too far removed from the herd. You betcha, I used that "motivator." About a third of the way down, Seymour started to chill out (though not before trying to kick Petal, the mule behind him).
Steep Switchbacks
The trip down to Indian Gardens, our first rest stop 4.6 miles in, took about 2 hours and change. There, there was a piddling little stream, a fountain to refill our canteens, and lo! An outhouse with a door. We stopped there for ten minutes, and were handed a hose and told to soak ourselves. It was the first of the truly summery days, and we'd already broken 100 degrees. Heatstroke was a real concern. So vanity got put aside and we soaked ourselves to the skin to lower our core temperatures. I was bone dry ten minutes later. Also, my knees and hips were starting to protest. Riding a mule is no joke. Those things are thick, and it threw my leg alignment totally out of whack.
From there, we took the trail through cactus country in the desert basin-- much less steep, and dirt trails that stretched on like something out of a spaghetti western. We were on that for about another mile and a half before we reached our destination: Plateau Point. Plateau Point is a big outcropping of rock that drops off 1,000 feet straight into the Colorado River. Inhabited by giant ravens and some of the bravest squirrels I've ever seen-- we shooed one off five times, and still he was determined to steal some of our lunch. We'd been warned: feed them under no circumstances. Squirrel bites are the #1 cause of trips to the canyon's infirmary. Those bastids are mean. As for the vista: stunning. Amazing. Gorgeous teal water and buttes as far as the eye could see.
The Colorado River from Plateau Point
After a 30 min lunch break, we were back in the saddle to go back the way we'd come. We had to rest the mules every 10-15 minutes due to the incline and rising heat. We re-soaked ourselves at Indian Gardens. About three miles and 1,750 ft back up the mountain, K-Bar stopped to rest the mules and talk some about mule breeding. Suddenly, his voice sounded a bit far away. Huh, I thought, I'm sort of lightheaded. 30 seconds later it was "am I going to throw up?" And about ten seconds after that my vision went white. I pitched forward and I almost fainted. I let K-Bar know that something was really, really wrong. He got me off the mule quite quickly and doused me in icewater. It was the slap I needed. I sat still on a rock for about two minutes while my vision stabilized. I had an apple to bring my blood sugar back up. All I kept thinking was "I do not have $3,500 for a helicopter ride." (To which Jason later joked, "Aww honey, I was gonna buy you that engagement ring, but I got you a helicopter ride instead!") Luckily, I was fit to ride only a few minutes after that. So there you have it: proof positive that you can be in reasonably decent shape, hydrating like crazy, properly attired in longsleeves and a hat, and still get heatsick. It only took one minute for me to go from perfectly fine to almost blacking out-- by the time I even realized what was happening, I was almost done for. Not gonna lie, it scared me a little. The Grand Canyon: This Is No Joke.
The last three miles were the most grueling. The heat was intense, the shade sparse, our mules tiring, and the grade steepening. My knees and hips were screaming. Seymour was keeping up quite admirably, but Petal, behind me, was holding up the rest of the party. When she wasn't trying to eat everything green in sight, she was plodding along very, very slowly. She even stopped and refused to start again at one point, and it took lots of "motivation" to get her going again. K-Bar assured us that she was perfectly capable of making the trip, but she was having a stubborn day. He knows these mules by name, day in and day out for the last two years. Each mule makes the trip 2 - 4 times a week. I suspect Petal's rider was simply a bit of a "cupcake."
K-Bar leads the way, and yes-- all the way back up!
After seeing some gorgeous Anasazi petroglyphs and a genuine Californian condor in the wild, we BLESSEDLY made it back to the top at around 3:30pm. There, we received certificates and said our goodbyes to both guides and mules. Jason and I walked very funnily up to the lodge, where we collapsed for a few minutes in the lovely, lovely air conditioning. We assessed damage: I have a lovely stripe of crimson on one collarbone that wraps around the back of my neck where my careful application of sunblock had rubbed away. Jason's redneck got redneckier. Also, my sitz bones and I are no longer on speaking terms. But we did it! Only 1% of all visitors to the Grand Canyon complete a mule tour.
Exhausted.
We had a quick dinner at the restaurant in the lodge before starting the drive back to Williams, AZ. Gatorade and strawberry popsicles were had.
Tomorrow: down to Tucson to visit Mrs. C-- Jason's near-gradmom. Then back to ABQ. Will update Sihaya Designs either tomorrow night or Tuesday morning, but if you want a preview, check the Flickr!
Me at the Oak Creek Canyon Vista
Friday, Jason and I headed out towards Sedona, AZ to see what good hiking we could find. First stop: The Oak Creek Canyon of the Coconino National Forest. Beautiful vista, but a little too limitedly touristy. We persevered on, driving through Uptown Sedona until we got to Red Rock State Park. We started on the marked trails, including a trip over a cute little plank bridge, until we got to a split. On one side: the marked Apache Fire trail. On the other: the great unknown, but with a Really Big Butte at the end. Guess what we chose? Yep. Big Rock it was. We hiked out for about an hour through inclines and long windy dried riverbed and made it pretty far, considering we'd gotten there later in the day. We made it to the base of the butte before we had to turn back for time. We saw lots of lizards and spiders. Big deer tracks. Lots of red dust. Not bad for some light hiking. We had dinner in Uptown Sedona, at an outdoor restaurant that boasted its own "misted patio." It's so dry out here that such things are apparently nice oases. Sedona was breathtakingly beautiful (I'd kill for a house there), but did sort of remind me of a beach resort town, only without the beach.
A Butte at Red Rock State Park
Today, Jason and I embarked on a Grand Canyon mule tour. The South Rim's Bright Angel Trail to Plateau point. Total roundtrip: 8 hrs, 12.2 miles, and 3,500 ft down (then back up again). Oh, and to top it off, the Bright Angel trail is one of America's ten most dangerous hikes.
The Bright Angel Trail
First of all, this is the only tour I've ever been on where the guide tries to talk you out of going. IF you pass the criteria for consideration (under 200 lbs with all your gear on, over 4'7", weight/height proportionate, etc.) you then get a 20 minute spiel from the corral manager that basically amounts to "if you are not in good muscular condition, DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT." Our guide described it as "the most difficult commercial tour you're like to ever hear about." It was repeated about six times "if you even are slightly worried that you don't think you can do this, we will give you a full refund now. If you leave this corral and you're wrong, it's a $3,500 rescue helicopter ride out of the ditch." Oh, and you'd better not be afraid of heights, sheer cliff faces, or a riding a giant freaking mule that likes to walk really close to the edge. Oh, and PS-- there are three times as many deaths at the Grand Canyon than at Mount Everest. At least five so far this year, in fact. Big signs all around about how a star athlete and Boston Marathon runner died on the trail a few years ago. But, um, don't worry. Trust your mule and you'll be okay.
Okay.
With all of this firmly in mind, we got up at 4am to make it to the corral for a weigh-in at 6:15. We were issued canteens and raincoats, then ushered through orientation. There, we were given a "mule motivator"-- PC jargon for a leather riding crop. (Which may be the first time I've ever used a crop for its intended purpose!) We were split into riding groups and paired with our mules. I got a smallish male named Seymour, and Jason got a monster of a beast named Norman. Two of our riding party dropped out before we left the corral.
Jason & Norman
From there, our guide, Kevin/K-Bar, started us down Bright Angel Trail. I was the first rider behind K-Bar, and Jason the last rider in our train of nine (I think they went by mule size). The first part of the trail was unbelievably steep, with sharp switchbacks that zig-zagged down the mountain. Seymour, bless him, really wanted to be the lead mule and kept trying to nose around Mack, K-Bar's mule. When he couldn't do that, he settled for walking ridiculously close to the sheer cliff faces and trying to eat the greenery below the edge. Uh. Yeah. Mildly unnerving. I had to show Seymour who was boss pretty early, as K-Bar warned us that while the mules are very sure-footed and temperate, they will try to test you to see if you're a "cupcake." If they find you to be soft, they'll do pretty much whatever they please, then take off at a run down the canyon if they find themselves too far removed from the herd. You betcha, I used that "motivator." About a third of the way down, Seymour started to chill out (though not before trying to kick Petal, the mule behind him).
Steep Switchbacks
The trip down to Indian Gardens, our first rest stop 4.6 miles in, took about 2 hours and change. There, there was a piddling little stream, a fountain to refill our canteens, and lo! An outhouse with a door. We stopped there for ten minutes, and were handed a hose and told to soak ourselves. It was the first of the truly summery days, and we'd already broken 100 degrees. Heatstroke was a real concern. So vanity got put aside and we soaked ourselves to the skin to lower our core temperatures. I was bone dry ten minutes later. Also, my knees and hips were starting to protest. Riding a mule is no joke. Those things are thick, and it threw my leg alignment totally out of whack.
From there, we took the trail through cactus country in the desert basin-- much less steep, and dirt trails that stretched on like something out of a spaghetti western. We were on that for about another mile and a half before we reached our destination: Plateau Point. Plateau Point is a big outcropping of rock that drops off 1,000 feet straight into the Colorado River. Inhabited by giant ravens and some of the bravest squirrels I've ever seen-- we shooed one off five times, and still he was determined to steal some of our lunch. We'd been warned: feed them under no circumstances. Squirrel bites are the #1 cause of trips to the canyon's infirmary. Those bastids are mean. As for the vista: stunning. Amazing. Gorgeous teal water and buttes as far as the eye could see.
The Colorado River from Plateau Point
After a 30 min lunch break, we were back in the saddle to go back the way we'd come. We had to rest the mules every 10-15 minutes due to the incline and rising heat. We re-soaked ourselves at Indian Gardens. About three miles and 1,750 ft back up the mountain, K-Bar stopped to rest the mules and talk some about mule breeding. Suddenly, his voice sounded a bit far away. Huh, I thought, I'm sort of lightheaded. 30 seconds later it was "am I going to throw up?" And about ten seconds after that my vision went white. I pitched forward and I almost fainted. I let K-Bar know that something was really, really wrong. He got me off the mule quite quickly and doused me in icewater. It was the slap I needed. I sat still on a rock for about two minutes while my vision stabilized. I had an apple to bring my blood sugar back up. All I kept thinking was "I do not have $3,500 for a helicopter ride." (To which Jason later joked, "Aww honey, I was gonna buy you that engagement ring, but I got you a helicopter ride instead!") Luckily, I was fit to ride only a few minutes after that. So there you have it: proof positive that you can be in reasonably decent shape, hydrating like crazy, properly attired in longsleeves and a hat, and still get heatsick. It only took one minute for me to go from perfectly fine to almost blacking out-- by the time I even realized what was happening, I was almost done for. Not gonna lie, it scared me a little. The Grand Canyon: This Is No Joke.
The last three miles were the most grueling. The heat was intense, the shade sparse, our mules tiring, and the grade steepening. My knees and hips were screaming. Seymour was keeping up quite admirably, but Petal, behind me, was holding up the rest of the party. When she wasn't trying to eat everything green in sight, she was plodding along very, very slowly. She even stopped and refused to start again at one point, and it took lots of "motivation" to get her going again. K-Bar assured us that she was perfectly capable of making the trip, but she was having a stubborn day. He knows these mules by name, day in and day out for the last two years. Each mule makes the trip 2 - 4 times a week. I suspect Petal's rider was simply a bit of a "cupcake."
K-Bar leads the way, and yes-- all the way back up!
After seeing some gorgeous Anasazi petroglyphs and a genuine Californian condor in the wild, we BLESSEDLY made it back to the top at around 3:30pm. There, we received certificates and said our goodbyes to both guides and mules. Jason and I walked very funnily up to the lodge, where we collapsed for a few minutes in the lovely, lovely air conditioning. We assessed damage: I have a lovely stripe of crimson on one collarbone that wraps around the back of my neck where my careful application of sunblock had rubbed away. Jason's redneck got redneckier. Also, my sitz bones and I are no longer on speaking terms. But we did it! Only 1% of all visitors to the Grand Canyon complete a mule tour.
Exhausted.
We had a quick dinner at the restaurant in the lodge before starting the drive back to Williams, AZ. Gatorade and strawberry popsicles were had.
Tomorrow: down to Tucson to visit Mrs. C-- Jason's near-gradmom. Then back to ABQ. Will update Sihaya Designs either tomorrow night or Tuesday morning, but if you want a preview, check the Flickr!