Life is Better in Hiking Boots - Part 4

“Beautiful doesn’t begin to describe it. A flower is beautiful. But this is beautiful the way that a person is beautiful- terrifying with its jagged edges, yet seductive with its crevices that hide so many secrets.”
― Jeri Smith-Ready

We had traveled nearly 2000 miles to our first big destination.  The excitement in the car was understandable as we got within an hour of the much awaited Grand Canyon.  We got no relief from the 90-100 degree days except the hot wind blowing in through the windows of the car.  During the course of the day we would rotate through the seats, one kid up front between Mom and Dad and trading off who got to sit next to the windows in the back.  Every once in awhile in a desperate move for a break, I would crawl over the seat and the suitcases into a small space in the very back of the station wagon where the cooler was.  I would sneak my hand in and grab a few ice cubes and pop them in my mouth before my Mom could see.  The long hours in the car were spent watching the miles and miles of uninhabited land go by, very different than the suburban sprawl we had left behind. 

About 45 miles away from the Grand Canyon our trailer got a flat tire.  The heat of the day fed our frustration and anguish at this untimely delay.  It was early afternoon already and we needed to get to the campground by sunset.   Not having a spare, we left the trailer on the side of the road and drove back to the town we had just gone through to see if we could get a new tire.  They had to order it from a town nearby so it took awhile for us to get it delaying our arrival at the Grand Canyon even more, the sun coming down in the sky as the afternoon wore on. 

Finally the tire arrived and we all piled hurriedly into the car for the drive back to our crippled trailer.  My Dad whipped out the car jack and changed the tire.   As we pulled into the Grand Canyon Park the sun was low in the sky.  My Dad skipped the campground and drove straight to the canyon edge.  We jumped out of the car and looked out over the brilliant colors of the canyon rock just as the sun was setting.  It was illuminated in all of its glory with the golden light of the setting sun and its deep walls made us gasp as we looked across to the other side.  This little midwestern family was experiencing a kind of nature they had never experienced before.   

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The day before we hiked down the Grand Canyon my Mom bought me a sun hat.  Made of straw, it had plastic cherries stapled to the wide brim.  My sister Beth made fun of my hat but I loved it.  It was 1966 and I was 9 years old.  The six of us headed out early in the morning to try to beat the heat.  My Mom had her purse flung over her wrist as if she was headed to the grocery store.  We had a paper bag full of food and a 2 quart red and white plastic container of water for the six of us.  Although my Mom insisted on the four of us wearing a hat to protect us from the sun, she and my Dad remained hatless. We were headed down to Indian Gardens.  As we hiked, we laughed and chatted and marveled at the beauty of the canyon.  We sang hiking songs and took pictures.  Every once in awhile a group of mules loaded up with supplies or people would pass us slow and steady choosing their steps carefully they would plod along.  As the sun rose in the sky we could already feel the heat of the day.  Luckily every few miles we found a rest area along with running water to refill our water jug.  The rest areas were anything from a few trees with a faucet stuck in the ground to a covered open stone building with enough benches for 8-10 people.  It was 5 miles down and a 3000 foot drop to Indian Gardens which we could handle with no problem.  Walking one switchback after the other, passing huge rock formations, we arrived at noon.  Much to our surprise and disappointment Indian Gardens was not, in fact, lush gardens as we had all pictured it, but a hot, dry area with a couple of small groups of trees and one structure that was apparently closed up.  We were provided with box lunches which my parents had had the foresight to order ahead of time.  Mules were parked throughout the area and people wandered around searching out the limited shade.  By now the temperatures had reached triple digits.  But it was still early.  My Mom and Dad discussed whether we should head up right after lunch or wait a few hours until the hottest part of the day had passed.  They made the decision to leave right after lunch, afraid of not making it back to the top before dark.  We had no idea what we were in for. 

The first part of the trip back up was desolate with no shade except for the small amounts provided by the large boulders that we came across every few hundred feet.  I would run from rock to rock and try to squeeze up into the triangle of shade the rock would provide.  It was hardly enough to cool me off and I was frustrated with my efforts.  The temperatures by now had reached 110 and we were all feeling dehydrated and drained.  Our two quart jug of water, which was sufficient for us from rest area to rest area on the way down was hardly sufficient for 6 people fighting 110 degree heat.  My Dad had to ration it out so that we could all get our share before the next rest area.  We started feeling the fatigue caused by the heat and uphill climb and our pace slowed considerably.  At the first rest area my sister, Beth, became visibly ill.  My Mom took off Beth’s shirt, soaked it in the water and put it back on her.  My parents decided that we needed to cool her off before we continued so we spent a good hour there, all of us drinking water and Beth resting on the bench, my Mom freshening up her wet shirt as soon as it dried which in the heat was almost immediate.  We had a bag of chips left in our food bag and Mom passed it around to everyone for the salt we were losing.  We were soon on our way again but our hike had taken on a feel of urgency.  My Mom and Dad were silent as they tried to keep up a good pace.  Their concern for Beth was palpable and they were obviously keeping an eye on the rest of us.  We were all fighting the desire to just stop and so they helped us take the hike one rest area at a time.  “Let’s just get to the next rest area kids.  Don’t think about getting to the top, just the next rest area.”  We had never felt such heat in our lives.  The sweat dripped down our backs and sides.  Our hair wet with perspiration under our hats.  I put my head down and watched as my feet took one sluggish step after another thinking I couldn’t possibly go any further.  My Mom stuck close to Beth leading her along as she became weaker.  When we hit a rest area we would collapse under any shade we could find.  By now my Mom was taking everyone’s shirts off and soaking them in water whenever she could.  Luckily as we rose out of the canyon, there were more trees and outcroppings that would provide us with shade but I was once again being reminded of the strength of Mother Nature and the respect due her.

At some point the chips ran out but our craving for salt continued.  My Mom dug through her purse and found little packets of salt she had saved from McDonalds.  We ate them like they were candy, relieving our bodies of their salt deprivation.  If we tried to sit for more than a few minutes one of my parents would be nudging us along, determined to get out of the canyon before dark or before one of us passed out.  As the sun started its way down we could feel the heat coming off the sides of the canyon.  We got no relief.   Beth started feeling better and by the last mile we were all getting our second wind.  We finally made it to the top at around 8 pm.  It had taken us three hours to get down and 7 to get back up.  As we took our first steps off the path and were officially out of the canyon we whooped and hollered.  Sweet victory.