And Back Again

Having gotten to the very bottom, there was no other way to go than up, and no other way to go up except by foot. (Or rescue. Not okay.) We set out on a cool, clear bright-and-early. While our descent had been down the South Kaibab, our ascent was up the Bright Angel trail. This is how it is done.

I was surprised at how easy the first few miles were. The incline was slight, and the path even descended from time to time. This really annoyed me, because I knew every step down now would be one more step up later. And, as though hiking 10+ miles upwards was not fun enough, I left my walking stick at one of our snack stops and had to go back to get it. That’s what happens when you don’t police the area before moving on.

We hiked alongside creeks and streams for a while, and at around mile four we felt the true delight of a desert oasis. There were waterfalls and small pools of water, tall green trees and vividly colored grasses, even a few flowers. It felt like a reward for making it thus far.

After that, the trail began to steepen a slight bit. We saw lots of hikers – most of who were either going the other way or passing us – and several muddy, rocky landslides. A couple of National Park Service workers were repairing the route, drilling through a massive rock with a giant, mine-sized drill. Who knew that was a job?

With three miles to go the path began to get serious. Oh, it looks easy enough – just a gentle slope headed up. Didn’t feel that way though. I felt like the Canyon was telling me I hadn’t been taking it seriously enough.

Soon, the familiar snow, ice, and winter showed up. I popped on my microspikes and trudged on. Icy hail came by. The wind blew sideways. The sun disappeared.

When I saw the Kolb studio on the rim I knew I was close. We got to the top, took a snap in front of the trailhead sign, and just like that, the adventure – that specific adventure, anyway – was over.

Now I was looking forward to getting back to our cold van and standing outside in the snow cooking dinner, and later crawling into icy sleeping bags for a night of listening to the howling squalls while even more wet stuff came down. 

Just kidding!

Turns out Mr. K had a plan. Why not reward ourselves by getting a room in a lodge, warming up, and eating a big fancy restaurant dinner?

“L-l-letmethinkaboutityes!” I a-a-answered.

So our big hike-aroo was capped by the best kind of creature comforts. The dream of climbing down to Phantom Ranch – and making it back to the top again, very important! – had been fulfilled. We were tired, warm, full, and content.