GRAND CANYON, ARIZONA
HERMIT TRAIL
FEBRUARY, 1999
INTRODUCTION
This hike had a completely different flavor
to it as there were five of us. As always, my Grand Canyon
hiking partner Bob was here, along with his two daughters
Rachel and Emily. Our long-time friend Bruce was also along
on this trip. Not having hiked here for a few years, I was
pretty happy to be back again. Hiking with a group, by
nature, somehow always takes longer, especially if some
members of the group are inexperienced. Bob's daughters
were real troopers though, and besides being able to share
our experiences with them, they provided us with lots of
entertainment. Although I'm sure they felt that we were the
ones providing the entertainment. Regardless, despite a
couple of setbacks, this was another enjoyable and long
overdue trip.
WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 17, 8:40
a.m.
I am sitting on a rock on the west side of Hermit Canyon,
facing the giant ‘house-sized’ chunk of Canyon
wall that I described in my notes in 1981, the last time I
was in this part of the Grand Canyon. As if this massive
piece of earth wouldn’t be. My two good friends Bob
and Bruce, and Bob’s two daughters, Rachel and Emily,
are at Hermit Creek campground resting. The itinerary
printed on the permit I received in the mail some weeks ago
had us leaving Sunday morning for Hermit Rapids campground
for two days, another two days at large in the Boucher use
area, and our last day at Hermit Creek campground. This
isn’t the way things turned out.
Backtracking two days, we began our hike on Monday, a day
later than originally planned. And we got a late start as
well. We had driven from Los Angeles to Tusayan on
Saturday. Arriving late in the evening, we easily found the
Best Western Squire Inn, where Bob had made reservations
for the night. The temperature was quite cold, and there
was a few patches of snow here and there. We checked in and
called it a day, as we were all pretty tired from the
drive. Bob and his girls stayed in one room, and Bruce and
I shared another. A nightcap in the bar prepared me for a
good nights rest. In the morning, we awoke to a cloudy,
snow-bearing sky. Overnight, the temperature had gone down
to below freezing. Not exactly the ideal weather in which
to start a week-long hike. Having a brief discussion,
taking into consideration the weather and our tired bodies,
we unanimously, if not quickly, decided to postpone the
trip for a day to acclimate ourselves, rest and see how the
weather progressed. That decision made, I secured another
nights stay for us and we then had breakfast in the dining
room.
After breakfast, we gathered day-hiking things together and
headed for South Rim. Passing through the park entrance, we
drove to Hermit trailhead, stopping a few times at
viewpoints along the way. Taking a short hike down the
Hermit trail, we came within perhaps a 10 minute walk from
the Waldron trail junction and stopped to have lunch.
Remembering what I had read in one of the many publications
I’ve accumulated through the years of my obsession
with the Grand Canyon, I was on the lookout for fossil
foot-prints in the Coconino. I found a few right next to
the trail. This is something I missed last time I passed by
here. We spent about an hour having lunch, taking pictures,
and exploring, and at 3:30 began our hike back up to the
rim. It took much longer to go up than it did to go down.
This was but a taste of what was to come the next day. On
the rim, we stopped at Pima Point overlooking Hermit Creek.
We spotted the trail we would be walking along the next day
and tried to visualize ourselves on it. It was a long way
down there. With the afternoon sun heading for the western
horizon, the air was beginning to get cool and breezy. We
took a few pictures and headed back to our hotel to freshen
up a bit before dinner.
We had our meal that evening at the Arizona Steak House.
Having eaten there several times in years past, it was most
delicious as usual, even though the wait was longer than
anticipated. I have never been disappointed with the food
here. Rachel had been complaining about one of her ankles
earlier, and as the evening progressed, it became even more
uncomfortable for her. Knowing this could develop into a
serious problem if ignored, we discussed our options for
the week if she felt as though she couldn’t do the
hike. We left it open for her to determine the trips fate,
Bob assuring her that there was no pressure, only support
for whatever she decided. He and Rachel decided to assess
the situation early in the morning when she awoke. Back at
the hotel, after another nightcap in the bar, I was off to
bed.
Awaking in the morning to a ‘mission go’ from
Rachel, we packed up and headed for the trailhead. Once on
the road, I suggested that maybe we should try to have our
itinerary changed to reflect our day late start, so we
stopped by the new Backcountry Office. I say new because
the last time I was here, the BRO was still off the parking
lot near Mather campground. It is now at the newly built
transportation depot, near Maswik Lodge. The friendly woman
behind the glass obliged our request with a smile (all
transactions are now carried on at window, much like that
at a movie theater box office). Our new itinerary had us at
Hermit Creek campground for one night (I thought this was
worth asking for since we were making changes anyway), with
the rest of the itinerary remaining as it was. I silently
noted how there was no one else here obtaining a permit. We
drove to the trailhead and began the process of
transferring last minute items to our packs, rearranging
and adjusting them, and psyching up for what lay ahead of
us for the next few days. Unfortunately, by the time we
actually started walking down the trail, it was fifteen
minutes past twelve noon. This was much later than we
should have been leaving. After a few pictures taken at the
sign a short way down the trail, we were now officially on
our trip.
It took us two hours to reach the junction with the Waldron
Trail. We stopped for a late lunch here. A quick foot and
morale check was conducted. An hour and fifteen minutes
later we were packed up once again and heading further into
the abyss. Soon coming to the junction with the Dripping
Springs trail, we veered right, continuing down the
drainage, which shortly landed us on top of the Supai.
Following this relatively level section of trail, we
reached Santa Maria spring by 3:30, where we rested for
half an hour. Once on the trail again, I privately began to
evaluate our progress. I was hoping we could at least reach
the bottom of the Cathedral Stairs by dusk, leaving us with
an easy twilight hike to Hermit Creek campground. This was
not to be.
At 6:15 we reached a knoll overlooking Lookout Point.
Having spotted this level area off the trail perhaps an
hour ago (Bob said he had seen it too), I suggested we camp
there for the night. This was an illegal act we were about
to commit, and would have cost us a dear $250 per person if
we were caught and cited. So, speaking quietly, just in
case there was someone within earshot that could have
alerted authorities, who would no doubt have made their way
to us in the middle of the night to write us each a
citation, and treading lightly, so as not to give away our
extended presence here the following day, we set up a
minimal camp. The light nearly gone, we hastily made a
couple of dinners to share. On this subject, one of the
dinners we had that night comes to mind. It was some sort
of tuna dinner I believe. After rehydrating for the
suggested amount of time, the meal was still quite crunchy
in texture, but we finished most of it off anyway. The next
night we would discover that the flavor packet Bruce had
emptied into the pouch was in fact not flavoring at all. It
was a small package of desiccant, with letters clearly
printed on the outside stating it’s contents
unsuitability for human consumption. Bruce suggested that
maybe our lack of suitable kitchen light was the reason he
hadn’t seen the warning. Fortunately, none of us had
any ill effects from this unplanned experiment.
At 6 a.m. the alarm in my watch sounded. I turned it off
and lay in my sleeping bag, drifting in and out of sleep.
At 6:25, I finally came to my senses and awakened the
others. By 7:30 we were on the trail once again. Having
forgone breakfast until we had travelled some distance away
from where we spent the night, we finally stopped at the
saddle above Cathedral Stairs, the top of the Redwall. It
was 9:30. We spent an hour and fifteen minutes here. As we
were leaving, seven wilderness rangers walking down the
trail at a good clip, came upon us. My first fear was that
we would be caught. A short check of our permit, with me
explaining how we had started a day late, followed by some
discussion of trail condition and other such canyon talk,
and they bid us well and continued onward. We followed at a
much slower pace. (In retrospect, I now think they figured
out by the time we reached Hermit Creek campground that
there was no way we could have come this far in one day,
hence the small lecture I would receive from them later
regarding hiking responsibly.) Through the steep, short
switchbacks of the staircase, we now were approaching open
sunlight on the long stretches of switchbacks that would
carry us to the Tonto. My pace being somewhat faster than
the others, I reached the junction with the Tonto trail at
1:15. When I arrived, the rangers were taking a break here
also, waiting for one of their crew who was lagging behind.
I had passed her sometime back and informed them of her
slow progress and apparently sore knees. Some in the group
didn’t seem too pleased with this information. In
another ten minutes, the rest of my group was here,
although there wasn’t much shade to be found. After a
short break, we easily travelled along the now relatively
level Tonto trail. We reached Hermit Creek campground at
2:30.
The rangers were busy at work in the campground;
rearranging rocks, realigning trails, performing latrine
maintenance and in general sprucing it up. Noticing the
absence of other hikers, we discussed amongst ourselves
staying here for the night. I approached the lead ranger,
Michael Walsh and asked if he could modify our permit to
allow us to do this. He radioed the BRO and got clearance.
Here is where I received the lecture I spoke of earlier. He
stressed that this was a difficult trail, not for
inexperienced Canyon hikers. I thought it wise to be silent
and take the reprimand.
That behind us, and more importantly our hiking done for
the day, it was now time to eat. Dropping our packs, we
took some food with us to the shade across the creek and
had a welcome lunch. We pumped some fresh water, talked and
rested for some time. (As I type this into my computer in
June of 1999, it comes to mind that I still have a quart of
this water in my refrigerator. Sort of like fine wine I
suppose, only better because of the work that went into
bringing it home.) By now the rangers were finished for the
day and had gone down to their camp at the river, so we
moved back across the creek and set up our camp, choosing
the very campsite Bob and I had spent two nights in
seventeen years ago. The site is a spacious one at the top
of the campground, having a tree growing out of the large
rocks between us and the creek. Before leaving, the rangers
informed us of the mice that were now plentiful here, and
warned us not to leave our packs unattended for any length
of time, suggesting we hang our packs on the provided
hangars at night or while gone during the day.
After dinner, during which we discovered our previous
evenings culinary mistake, we pumped water again. It was
now much easier to drink plentifully, and as a result we
went through what we had pumped earlier quite rapidly. With
our packs dutifully hung for the evening, and the others
retiring to their tents, Bob and I were able to enjoy a
cigar while sitting by the creek, and had a satisfying
discussion of things canyon. After perhaps three-quarters
of an hour, we were also ready to turn in. Bob crawled into
the tent with his daughters and I searched out the spot I
had prepared earlier, a few sites down from the rest of our
group. I was sleeping outside without the confinement of a
tent, and aside from the unknown creatures that
occasionally could be heard during the night, I slept very
well. As always, I fell asleep while gazing up at the night
sky, pondering our tiny planets position in the galaxy
spread out before my eyes.
This morning, I arose at 7:15 with a hike to Hermit rapids
in mind. By 7:45, with the others still sleeping, I was on
my way. I travelled downstream for about fifteen minutes,
passing by scenery I had only seen twice before in my life.
I came across the pools Bob and I had bathed in, and the
steps over which the creek worked its way down to the
river. While splashing water on my still somewhat sleepy
face at one of these little pools, I at first heard and
then finally saw the work group on their way back up
canyon. Michael Walsh once again took the opportunity to
admonish me for my actions as leader of this hike with my
friends. He then offered us another two nights stay at
Hermit Creek campground. I gladly accepted. They continued
on their way up, and I continued on my way down, stopping
where I’m at now to make these notes. It is now 9:15.
I will hike back to camp and inform the others.
WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 17, 6:10 p.m.
We hiked to the river today, leaving at 10:30 and arriving
at 12:15. We stayed until 3:30, having lunch, scouting the
area, and taking a few photos. We took one photo on the
beach that will need to be composited, much like the one we
took at the trailhead sign when we started this trip. Bruce
will be adding either himself or me into one of the
photographs to make a three shot with Bob. It should be
interesting. While wandering upriver, I came across the
rangers campsite. Very elaborate, with two big rafts
beached nearby, a nice kitchen and chests full of food. I
found Bob’s hat here that he’d left behind at
Santa Maria spring. The rangers must have picked it up and
brought it down with them. Bob was upset when he discovered
he’d left it behind, but gave it up for gone as
we’d gone too far for him to go back and get it.
He’d had that hat since we were in high school, some
thirty years. So, needless to say, he was very pleased when
I appeared with it on my head.
Being at the river brought a feeling of accomplishment for
me. The walk down Hermit Creek was much like a walk in my
past. Seventeen years ago I was a much different person,
both in and out the canyon. Seeing the same sights through
older eyes made me realize again that my life is less than
a speck along the Grand Canyon timeline. Rounding the last
bend, seeing the blue-green water of the Colorado come into
view, made me feel privileged to be here again. This
morning I heard for the first time on this trip my favorite
canyon creature, the Canyon Wren. The sound of this bird is
permanently implanted in my mind, and strikes a chord of
pleasant resonance whenever I hear it. Among the many
features that I was glad to see from before were the
water-worn canyon walls on either side of the creek, with
their floodwater polished chutes cut so smooth and deep. At
one spot in the creekbed, a layer of mica was exposed that
glistened in the sunlight, and easily gave up large pieces
of the mineral.
THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 18, 8:45 a.m.
I am sitting on the backside of the rock that borders our
camp, facing Hermit Creek. I’m watching Bruce, Emily
and Bob pumping water for our days journey. We will most
likely be walking west along the Tonto trail today. I awoke
at 7:30 and crawled out of my sleeping bag shortly after
Bruce and Bob got up. The girls were still in the tent.
Having a great deal of breakfast food remaining in my pack,
I splurged this morning and had a double serving of oatmeal
with grape nuts mixed in, a cup or two of tang, and two
cups of coffee. I’m very satisfied now. My knees are
a little stiff this morning. One Motrin will keep this in
check.
Last night I fell asleep watching the sky again. I awoke
two or three times during the night, noticing the movement
of the big dipper. I’m still confused after all these
years as to the location of the north star. I must look
this up and commit it to memory. The weather has been
excellent so far. I haven’t been keeping track of the
temperature in the evenings, but my polypropylene pants,
tee shirt covered by a sweater and a wool shirt, topped off
with a wool cap has been keeping my quite toasty.
It’s 9 a.m. now.
THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 18, 1:50 p.m.
We are stopped for a lunch break at a wonderful north
facing overlook near the mouth of Travertine Canyon. The
view up and down the inner gorge is nothing less than
spectacular. Hermit Rapids is a little upstream, to our
right. The sound being carried on the wind is a pleasant
rush of water. From this distance, watching the ripples on
the surface of the water below the rapids make want to take
a swim. Knowing that the temperature is probably fifty
degrees makes me stop and shiver with the thought. Looking
behind me and to my left is Travertine Canyon. The towering
Redwall here is impressive, being the backdrop of perhaps
one of my favorite photographs I’ve taken here.
When Bob and I were walking east along the Tonto on the
other side of Travertine canyon in 1981, he was ahead of me
by some distance. Bad knees and all now that I think of it.
As he began to head into an amphitheater (it may have been
Travertine) I saw an image I was able to capture on film.
Bob had stopped and turned back to look at me. In the
photograph he is but a small speck standing on the trail,
with the walls of the Grand Canyon towering behind him. I
am so glad we came back here. So much looks familiar.
Having a second chance to look at this makes me aware of
what I went through seventeen years ago.
Our camp, being overrun with rangers doing maintenance, has
made us leave camp fairly early each day. Upon their
arrival we were nearly ready to set out for yet another
mini adventure. We made good time to this point. I’m
guessing one hour. We stopped a couple of times, taking in
the views. I wandered off the trail at one point, skirting
the edge of the cliffs that rose up from Hermit Canyon. We
found this spot and made the lunch call. Attempting to use
up most of our food before the hike out, a chore we are
always faced with when backpacking, we made a huge pot of
rice soup mix for lunch. Very good. After lunch, I retired
to this rock for note taking. It’s beginning to cloud
up a bit. Maybe rain for tomorrow? We’ll see. More
later...too much discussion going on around me to think.
THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 18, evening (time not
noted)
On hiking back to camp today, Bob and I spotted an inviting
cross-country route over a small saddle. Bruce and the
girls continued along the trail, while Bob and I split off
and got a small taste of what we’ve done together so
many times before. It’s called exploring. We crossed
over the saddle, noting that this could have been a dry
campsite, and eventually met up with the trail and our
party. Once back at camp, we prepared for the following
days work and are now retiring early in anticipation
(fear?) of what lay ahead. I have been silently thinking
about the hike out since we arrived. I’m sure the
others have also.
SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 20, 7:25 a.m.
I’m at Mather point watching the sunrise. The
brilliant light shooting down the canyon, illuminating the
canyon walls and all the named and unnamed buttes and
temples is a sight I never tire of. Quite a few people are
here, each with their own reason for wanting to stand in
the thirty degree temperature to witness something that has
been occurring here for millions of years. One woman
announced that today was her birthday, and sang in a
beautiful voice “Morning Has Broken” and
“Amazing Grace”. Very appropriate I would say,
a nice touch to the morning. I have taken a few pictures,
my fingers having some difficulty due to the cold.
Yesterday morning my alarm went off at 5:30. By 5:45 we
were all up and preparing to leave Hermit Creek campground.
We had wanted to leave by 6:30. This didn’t actually
happen until 7:15. We made a plan to stop every fifty
minutes of hiking for a ten minute break. We stuck to this
and were able to reach the top of the Cathedral Stairs in
two hours. As we slowly climbed out of Hermit Canyon, I
found myself stopping to look down at where we had been
camped. It seemed so desolate. Gathering more energy as I
hiked along behind the others, I felt invigorated and quite
capable of the hike that lay ahead. I even marched to a
tune in my head for a while, catching up to the others
rather quickly. Having lunch where we had stopped for the
evening four days ago, we spent forty-five minutes to an
hour there. As it was when we came down, the longest part
of this hike is through the Supai. We reached Santa Maria
spring by 3 pm. Here I estimated another two and a half
hours to the rim. I was off by one hour, topping out at
6:30. Eleven hours and fifteen minutes of a slow grind
uphill. This was quite a different kind of trip for me.
Since we had a group of five, the system Bob and I had
developed through the years didn’t quite work. He had
his hands full teaching his daughters the ins and outs of
canyoneering. They adapted quickly though and provided us
with entertainment in the process.
I really enjoyed this trip. Reflecting back, I believe it
was more difficult seventeen years ago when Bob and I were
here last. Then, aside from carrying far too much gear, I
was not yet psycholgically comfortable with the task in
which I was immersed. Not denying the physical difficulty I
had this time, in part I’m sure due to age, I still
felt better prepared, both physically and psychologically.
I feel now as though I’m ready for a solo hike here.
Bob even noticed how comfortable I looked, mentioning this
to me while stopped on the Supai section of the trail.
The Grand Canyon has been in my blood for years, perhaps
ever since my father introduced it to me when I was fifteen
or sixteen. Over the past decade, the increasing complexity
of my life has slowly forced my thoughts of this special
place into dormancy, tucked away in the far recesses of my
soul. This trip has re-kindled that element and now flows
in my blood once again. The drought has ended. I know that
I will be back again.