For Spring Break, we decided to hit the great American freeway system for an epic road trip. Our journey started in Oregon, meandered through Utah with a stop at the incredible Arches National Park for a hike to one of the world’s most amazing natural wonders.
Then on to the Four Corners Monument for a blustery and somewhat chilly experience of being in four states at the same time.
From there we drove through New Mexico, then turned west onto I-40, which follows a similar path as the historic Route 66. A snowstorm greeted us as we crossed into Arizona. Not at all what we were expecting from the desert state. The Petrified National Forest was our next stop, though the lunch we had anticipated eating there morphed into peanut butter and honey sandwiches made on the tailgate of our pickup because the park didn’t have any running water that day. After living with a Port-a-Potty for nine months while we built our house, we were experienced Port-a-Potty users, so we made due with the limited services and went on to thoroughly enjoy the Painted Desert scenery, ancient petroglyphs, and bounteous petrified logs.
Our hotel for that night was in Tuscan, so we piled back into the truck and hit the road again. We took the scenic route through what the locals termed ‘Little Grand Canyon’ and it was spectacular. We arrived at our hotel after dark, but my girls still wanted to swim in the pool. I headed down with my laptop to watch them, and wow, I never knew the scent of orange tree blossoms was so intoxicating. Talk about an inspiring venue for writing. I plucked a blossom and took it to bed with me that night. Oh, how I wish orange trees could grow in Oregon. On to historic Tombstone the following morning. If you ever want to buy a western-themed Halloween costume, this is the place. Reasonable prices and selection galore. So many buildings have been preserved and the reenactment of an old west gunfight was thoroughly entertaining. There are three gunfight shows to choose from in the town, depending on if you are looking for comedy and entertainment (which we were), or a more historical approach.
An afternoon of driving brought us to Camelback mountain near Phoenix. Due to recent accidents and growing popularity of the hike, Park Rangers had begun to limit the trail to daylight use only and were apparently issuing tickets if you came off the mountain after dark. We hiked partway up and caught a great view of the setting sun and the surrounding valley, then headed back down to avoid the threatened fine.
That night we slept in Prescott, AZ and prepared to hike to the Juniper tree saved by the Granite Mountain Hotshots. (See my previous post on that memorable hike.)
Reaching the Grand Canyon was the pinnacle of our road trip. We loved the inspiring views as we walked along the rim and took advantage of the many photo opportunities presented by the setting sun. That night I couldn’t sleep. The double bed was as soft as a board, and with my husband’s broad shoulders, the two of us felt like we were crammed in steerage back in the 1800s, not a modern-day hotel. With my three hours and nineteen minutes of sleep, according to my FitBit, I started hiking down the Grand Canyon at 7:47am, temperature around 40 degrees. At first I felt sleepy and tired, my muscles complaining about the daunting task ahead. When we reached the Three-mile house and paused for a snack and water break, I already felt beat. My youngest daughter, who inspired this crazy trip of ours with her Bucket list item See the Grand Canyonkept talking about hiking all the way to the bottom, saying, “It would be so lame to come all this way and not hike to the bottom.”
After my online research and the prominent warning signs about the dangers of hiking all the way down and back in a single day, I was hesitant to commit to that and had originally planned to visit Plateau Point, then hike back out.
The last thing I wanted was a lecture from some Park Ranger if we ended up needing rescue. But the other side of my brain, my daring adventurous side, hadn’t completely discounted the idea of making a run for the Colorado River. This might be our only chance after all, and with me and my older daughter being distance runners and my younger daughter a sprinter and jumper with the track team, it wasn’t like we weren’t physically prepared for a challenge.
I kept saying let’s wait until we get to the fork in the trail and then we will decide. Indian Garden is an oasis in an otherwise formidable desert canyon and also the point the trail forks. We ate another snack and drank water there. My husband chose to go to Plateau Point. My girls were convinced they could tackle the additional three miles to the Colorado River. I was committed to sticking with my kids no matter what. So, we parted ways, the three of us girls waving to my husband as he hiked along the bluff above us. We later decided those three miles down to the river was the most beautiful stretch of trail we hiked that day.
Waterfalls and gurgling streams. Dramatic cliff sides and steep switchbacks. Deer foraging in the grasses, and a California Condor soaring in the blue sky above.
We finally set foot in the Colorado River at 11:15am. Soaking my tired feet in the icy water revived me, along with my peanut butter and honey sandwich. After fifteen minutes, we decided to head back up.
Hearing the horror stories about how it can take more than twice as long to hike up, I didn’t want to use up too much daylight hanging out at the bottom, plus we knew my husband would be ahead of us and we didn’t want him to have to wait too long for us.
A sense of urgency had us moving at a good clip. We returned to Indian Garden by 1:00pm, where we refilled our water bottles and took a bathroom break. Other than taking care of the necessities, we didn’t rest there for any length of time. As we hiked the remaining miles up to the rim, I noticed I felt pretty darn good until I reached Three-mile house (which is three miles from the rim). The temperature was probably in the sixties—perfect weather for hiking. Things would be completely different if you were to attempt this hike in June or July. At this point I began feeling tired and my pulse was pounding in my head, which is irritating and always makes me wonder if my blood pressure is going wonky. I remember whispering several prayers as I focused on setting one foot in front of the other. I slowed down a tad at that point. With a mile and a half left, my distance-running daughter outpaced me and my younger daughter and soon pulled so far ahead we couldn’t see her. With three-quarters of a mile remaining, the ligaments behind my knee started to twinge. Again, I whispered a prayer and channeled all the positive energy I could. I didn’t want to pull something, so I walked a little easier that last stretch, determined to reach the top without injury. My sweet, youngest daughter could have pulled ahead as well, but she stayed by my side and we set foot on the rim at 3:22pm, about fifteen minutes after my older daughter. My husband had gone to the Plateau and returned to the truck about an hour before us.
An incredible, almost indescribable feeling of accomplishment coursed through me as I set foot on the top. There is great power in challenging oneself and then successfully completing all you set out to do. Thank you Grand Canyon for being the wind beneath my wings this day.
