You're a Grand Old Park

We left Utah in our rearview mirror today and headed on to the last national park of our trip: the Grand Canyon. About halfway between Zion and the Canyon, though, we made one pitstop at Horseshoe Bend. 

This odd and beautiful bend in the canyon etched by the Colorado River represents a 270-degree turn in the course of the river, leaving a rocky promontory in the center. A mile-long hike from the parking lot (adorned with National Park System insignia but sadly not covered by our America the Beautiful pass) winds down through the desert sand to and overlook. Far below, we could see evidence of kayaks, tents, and other watercraft as people appreciated Horseshoe Bend from a very different vantage point. The river far below looked relatively calm, belying the superpower that has carved out this canyon and defined the landscape.

After our brief introduction to the power of the Colorado River, we saw its masterpiece: the Grand Canyon. At 277 miles long, an average of a mile deep, and up to 18 miles across (rim to rim), the Grand Canyon is humongous. We spotted its rippling crevice in the distance hours before actually arriving at the park, a rent in the earth that we knew could be nothing else. 

It wasn’t until we arrived at the park and were able to creep out to the canyon rim, though, that we could peer down into its depths and appreciate the canyons within canyons. 

While many of the pictures I had seen featured red, red, rocks and a smooth sheer cliff face plummeting to the bottom, the part of the canyon we visited had more layers as it funneled down to the river bed. As we arrived at the canyon in the afternoon, we used our limited time to venture down into the canyon on the Kaibab Trail and then walk the rim. The Kaibab Trail reminded us of the Navajo Loop at Bryce Canyon: steep descent along switchbacks followed by a steep ascent. Since the path all the way to the bottom here is quite long, however, our path was an out-and-back instead of a loop. I had a dream of going rim to rim after my adventurous and sickeningly fit friend Wookie did so on his Wookie Runs America tour, but Josh forced me to accept my mere mortal status and rein in my expectations for our Grand Canyon visit. Once we were on the trail, I saw his point. The park signs had repeatedly emphasized that rim to rim required an overnight in the canyon and that altitude sickness and heat exhaustion were both very real dangers of that hike, but it was seeing the exhausted faces of the hikers completing their ascent with a full backpack of gear that really drove it home. Alas, another time when I am more fully prepared.

Even though we only descended partway, the view was still beautiful as the canyon unfolded before us. The cliffs were so steep in places, so variable in others. Vegetation had long since adjusted and grew in sparse clusters or straight out of the rock wall at sharp angles, vying for sunlight. Repetitive undulations of rock were visible by the North Rim. From trail signs, we learned about more of the differences between the North and South Rims. While the South Rim is supposed to offer better views and better hiking, the North Rim has most of the precious resources, namely water. To transport water from the North Rim to the parched South Rim and its visitors, a 15-mile pipeline has been constructed across the canyon. This water is then pumped up to the rim and stored in large tanks, as malfunctions or leaks of this long pipeline are common. We sipped from our water bottles with greater respect.

The Colorado River winding at the bottom

After hiking back up the Kaibab Trail, we wandered the Rim Trail back towards the Visitor’s Center. While the whole Rim Trail stretches about 12 miles, we walked around four miles of it. Though the outlooks were frequent, we did notice subtle changes in the views as our light and angle changed. The whole view was so vast that it was hard to take it all in at once, anyways. Each view revealed new details, new subtleties in the rock formations.

Hiking complete, we headed to our hotel to check in. While we envisioned this being a swift process, we got waylaid in the parking lot by a fascinating sight: more than a dozen perfectly restored Model Ts lined up next to one another in the lot. We peered at the wooden spokes of the wheels, the actual horns attached to a squeezable bulb, the elaborate lamps that served as headlights, the license plates labeled “Horseless Carriage”, and the spare wheels strapped to the side in special leather cases, looking for all the world like life rings. We talked to some of the owners for nearly an hour, learning that Model Ts are still plentiful across the United States (250,000 currently registered) despite being 100 or more years old. Since tens of millions of these vehicles were made, getting your hands on one only costs a few thousand dollars, and spare parts for repair are apparently not hard to find. As a result of the low barrier to entry, these car fanatics never own just one; most owned at least 4 Model Ts while one owned 26. By the end of the conversation, I knew more about Model Ts than I did about my own car.

Spotted: Elk! First, we spotted them lapping up the drops of water at the bottle refill station, but we also saw them lounging in the shade (check out those horns) and peeking out from behind trees along the path.

We heard this bleating baby elk before we saw it