Grand Canyon: Of Humans, Squirrels, Mules and Condors
I have a problem with the Grand Canyon. It’s too spectacular. However hard I try to describe it, all that comes out is a stream of banalities.
The Canyon is immense. Mindboggling. Incomprehensible. Beautiful. Hostile. Stunning. Monotonous.
And yes, it looks Martian.
But all these things have been said before. The Grand Canyon is one of those places which have fascinated people for dozens of years.
Spanish conquistadors first saw the canyon in the 16th century. But it remained little known, until, three centuries later, its business potential began to be appreciated. Mines were dug; a railroad built; hotels appeared, and holidaymakers began to frequent the area.
Ordinarily, this would have been the end of a natural marvel, — wilderness turned into an amusement park. But the Grand Canyon is so grand that it’s very hard to spoil it.
It is 460 kilometres long, 20 kilometres wide, and nearly 700m deep.
It is three times bigger than London. You’d need to pile 160 Routemaster buses on top of each other to fill it, although I have no idea why you’d want to do so.
The Grand Canyon is immense. Mindboggling. Incomprehensible. Beautiful. Hostile. Stunning. Monotonous.
The sheer size of the Grand Canyon means that you can spend years building car parks next to it, but its immensity will just shrug it all off, — concrete and tarmac no more scarring it than a pin would a tank.
A lot of the people who come to the Grand Canyon only walk along its rim, popping into shops and restaurants as they go. These people miss out.
What you really need to do is pick one of the trails which lead down the Canyon and spend about four or five hours walking it. There are plenty of reasons why signs along the rim tell you to take care with these trails. In the Arizona heat, hiking can be quite challenging.
We set off down Blue Angel trail at 11–00 in the morning. Well prepared hikers, with Camelback hydration systems, walking sticks, and clever maps, shared the trail with us, — some, like us, were on their way down; others, who must have started at sunrise, were returning to the rim.
At each turn of the trail, a new view opened up, each more grandiose than the other.
This wilderness is quite well maintained. As you go down the trail, you pass drinking fountains and toilet blocks. Signs along the trail suggest where people of different physical abilities might want to turn around and start heading back.
But even for the fittest going all the way down to the Colorado river, which runs along the bottom of the canyon, and then returning the same day, is certainly not realistic. People have died attempting the top-to-bottom return hike.
These animals have been in use at the Grand Canyon since tourism began here. They are calmer than horses; they are stronger than donkeys; and they almost never slip.
A sign at the top of the trail will tell you that this last quality is very important. There are two sorts of mules, says the sign. One type is used to ferry supplies; the other, — to carry tourists down the canyon. The “cargo” mules sometimes do lose their footing and fall — a few cases have been recorded. But passenger mules are, allegedly, sure-footed and calm.
On narrow Canyon trails, where you’re sometimes no further than a foot away from a precipice, this quality is very important.
We hiked three miles down the canyon. One of the brochures said this was “strenuous” and “a professional should be consulted first”. I think it might be an exaggeration — but I wouldn’t want to go much further down.
We ate picnic in the shade of a boulder the size of a medieval cathedral. I knew the hike back up to the top would be long and tiring. Especially given that I was planning to stop every five minutes or so to get the camera out. Photography takes time and effort.
There is plenty of wildlife along the trail. Signs suggest you should stay clear of it, — animals have ticks, and ticks can, apparently, carry the plague.
But animals ignore signs. Especially grey squirrels. They have been so conditioned by generations of tourists that they will almost climb up your trouser-legs if you show them some food.
And some — like this one — will even do a little dance to get your attention.
As squirrels begged and pestered, condors soared overhead.
These birds are appropriately majestic, — they live on the scale which befits the Grand Canyon.
With the wingspan of 3 meters, a weight of 12 kilograms and an estimated lifespan of up to 60 years, the Californian condor is one of the world’s largest birds.
But, by 1982, only 22 condors remained in the wild.
It is not entirely clear why. Hunting was certainly not to blame — condors feed on carrion and look, at close quarters, quite ugly. They were never very attractive as a hunting trophy.
One theory is that condors were dying from lead poisoning: they pick up meat from carcasses of animals which had been hit with lead bullets, and sometimes swallow those bullets. Another theory says condors were being inadvertently poisoned when they ate meat from traps set out for coyotes and other land predators.
But the most probable explanation for this species’ near-extinction is loss of habitat, combined with too much human attention.
Biologists launched a captive-breeding programme to try and rescue the condors, and in 1992 the first birds were released into the wild. By 2008, there were more condors living in the wild than in captivity. One estimate suggests there are already 500 condors in the American Southwest, and their numbers are expected to continue growing.
The oldest birds, — those who graduated to the Canyon from aviaries, — still have numbers etched onto their feathers.
As I stood by the Western edge of the canyon and looked at the giant bird circling overhead, I thought that the story of the condors’ revival really fitted the Grand Canyon. It is all about humans almost forcing nature to its knees, but then realising their error and pulling back from the brink.
At the Western edge of the canyon, another trail is available to a more experienced hiker. Grandview Trail was built by the mining company which had been trying to develop a deposit of copper in the 1890s. But, even though the ore was very rich, mining in the Grand Canyon was never profitable. In 1940, geologists gave up.
But the trail is still there, well used, but no longer maintained. Nature is slowly taking over. Steps cut into the stone are eroding away; and, in places, the trail has become quite dangerous. The Canyon is taking back what rightfully belongs to it.
Here on its western edge, humans tried to conquer it — and failed. On the southern rim, we are standing firm. But the canyon has been there for an unimaginably long time. Experts disagree on its age, but estimates range from six to 70 million years.
The Grand Canyon is one of the few places on earth where you can really feel how small, how insignificant humans are. To our planet, we are little more than irritating mosquitoes.
Sadly, some mosquitoes carry deadly malaria. And when you look at the beauty of the Grand Canyon, you really wish that the humanity turns out to be the harmless type of parasite.
Practical Advice: Grand Canyon
Money
The Grand Canyon is a major tourist destination, so everything is more expensive than it probably should be. But this has its benefits, too. So many people visit that there is competition between businesses which provide food, lodging and services to visitors.
There are expensive restaurants, like the El Tovar; cheap eateries, like the wonderful canteen at Yavapai Lodge; and supermarkets, catering to the more independent traveller. Between the many options on offer, something can be found to suit any budget.
An entry fee is collected as you drive into the National Park. It is $30 and it is valid for seven days.
Lodging
We stayed at Yavapai Lodge — the hotel with the most rooms on the South Rim. It was perfectly fine, but our block of rooms was a five-minute drive from the “civilisation”, — canteens, supermarkets etc.
Getting around and trails
Like in Yosemite, a network of free shuttle buses connects the most important points around the Southern Rim of the Canyon. And — just like in Yosemite — drivers are happy, talkative and enthusiastic, — wannabe tour guides stuck driving the same route over and over again.
Weather
The Southern Rim of the Grand Canyon lies at an altitude of eight thousand feet. So it gets very cold at night; and the weather can change quickly. When we visited, in early April, it was +22 during the day and +4 after sunset. A week earlier, there was snow on the ground.
Trails and views
You can get a brochure with the list of all trails from any hotel along the rim. No need to spend money on a proper map, unless you are planning a major independent hike. The best place to watch sunrise in the spring is Yavapai Point; for sunset the advice is to go to Hopi Point or Powell Point. Special “sunset buses” travel to this location, and the last returning bus scoops up any stragglers, to make sure nobody is left behind. I was suspicious about watching the sunset in the company of dozens of people, but the view is so majestic that it’s well worth it.
Away From the South Rim
As you drive out of the National Park, heading North-East, do stop at the Grandview Trail and at a point called Desert View. A local architect called Mary Colter built a tower here, — a folly, but done amazingly well. It is inspired by the culture of the local native Americans, and it is a prime example of compassionate architecture. It looks like it was built centuries ago — but, in reality, construction only ended in 1932, and there is a reinforced concrete core hidden behind all the weathered stone.
On the Eastern Rim of the Canyon, you can pay to go on the Skywalk, — a glass walkway sticking out from a sheer cliff. We decided not to do it (too touristy, too many negative reviews), but I know people who described the experience as exhilarating.
Next stop, — Page, Arizona, where I meet the people who really own America.
Or go back to the preface and the front page
