The Arizona Diaries: 13-21 October 2012, Part VI

In October of 2012, I spent ten days on a road trip that traced a loop. Starting in Los Angeles, I went through Tucson, Arizona to the Grand Canyon and back to Los Angeles through the Mojave Desert.

As the stars faded, I dressed, made tea, and walked over to the little beach where I'd stopped the day before. I stared out at the Colorado River and thought that I'd never been in a place where the stillness was so complete. Sitting there next to the powerful river, feeling the energy of its never-ending movement, I felt outside of time. The river speaks of what it knows, and the present moment is its eternal story.

By the time I returned to my campsite, the Canadians were packed up and ready to go. I was trying to light my stove when Rainy came over the retrieve Joe's tent peg. While pitching my tent the day before, I managed to break a titanium peg. I didn't have an extra one and was lucky that Joe was willing to let me borrow his. When Rainy saw that I had run out of fuel, she offered me her stove. I had already benefited so much from my new friends' hospitality, and I was staunch in my refusal. I had enough other food and didn't really need to make oatmeal. I wrote down my contact information and said goodbye to the Canadians. Rainy invited me to come with them on a different route than I was planning to take, but I was worried that I would be too slow to keep up with them and wanted to see the whole Bright Angel Trail. Rainy insisted that this would not be the end; she predicted we would meet again at Indian Garden Campground, on the way back up to the South Rim. At the very least, we would surely meet up in the Backcountry Office parking lot.

The Arizona Diaries: 13-21 October 2012, Part V

In October of 2012, I spent ten days on a road trip that traced a loop. Starting in Los Angeles, I went through Tucson, Arizona to the Grand Canyon and back to Los Angeles through the Mojave Desert.

At the South Kaibab trailhead, I took one last look at the view and shouldered my backpack. From above, I could see the first tight switchbacks winding down the cliff and watched as each walker tried to find a footing. It was sweet, really. All of these grown folks as keyed up as little kids at recess, lots of slipping and sliding in the dust and scree. I made quick work of the switchbacks, and it wasn't long before I reached a rest. I had read that there was no water on the South Kaibab Trail, and I guess I had just assumed there wouldn't be any toilets, either. But here was a nice triple outhouse with the cleanest chemical toilets I'd ever seen. It was only eight o'clock, but it was already warm, so I took a break in the shade, removed a few layers, and adjusted my backpack.

Setting out again, it wasn't long before I was all alone. Twenty or thirty of us had all started on the same trail at the same time, but in a matter of three short miles, we were all walking our own walks. I also noticed that I wasn't hitting a stride. I was stopping every few paces to take a picture. Each turn offers up come new marvel, and it's hard to resist taking a picture of every view. But I was realizing that I wasn't able to truly capture what I was seeing and decided to put my camera away. Mostly.

The Arizona Diaries: 13-21 October 2012, Part IV

In October of 2012, I spent ten days on a road trip that traced a loop. Starting in Los Angeles, I went through Tucson, Arizona to the Grand Canyon and back to Los Angeles through the Mojave Desert.

Assured of a campsite at the bottom of the canyon in two nights' time, I abandoned all thought of the North Rim, paid for four nights at Desert View, and set up my new camp: site 46. It was already late into the afternoon by then, so I went back to the village to walk some more of the Rim Trail and visit all of the Mary Colter buildings. As the sun began to set, I pulled up to the Desert View lookout. Climbing up its spiral stairs past faux petroglyphs along the walls to the very top, I wondered what it was like for Mary Colter to design her buildings, what her process was like and what obstacles she faced as a female architect in the early 1900s. I peered through the tiny windows that frame the panoramic views and admired her imagination. The pink cliffs and lavender sky were gilded with dusky gold as I turned back down the short road to my campsite.