Backpacking Wonders of Grand Canyon, Thunder River => Deer Creek Loop: Day 1
Saturday September 15th, A Day of Travel
I awoke at home, in Phoenix. As I looked at the clock I realized it was only 4:15am. Since Bill and I didn’t plan to leave until 6, I shut my eyes for a while longer. At 5:15am I met Bill in the hallway; both of us on our way to the kitchen. He started coffee while I called Jen. Bill said “good morning,” to his daughter as I held the phone so he could see her, then he went about his morning.
Jen told me to be careful, to look out for her 71 year old father, and to enjoy myself. Then we delivered to each other our last “I love you”s for the week. Afterwards, I put my phone on airplane mode (leaving it on only for the use of its camera).
Bill and I got most of our packing done during the previous day. The only thing left to get was oatmeal, for breakfasts in the backcountry. So we made a brief stop at Fry’s, then hopped on I-17 North.
As we made our way around a curve that has become my favorite slice of highway, I was eagerly anticipating a view of the San Francisco Peaks from across Verde Valley. But rather than my precious mountain view, we saw a huge plume of smoke billowing atop the Mogollon Rim.
A little less than 2.5 hours after leaving the house we merged off of the highway, into Flagstaff, with breakfast on our minds. We pulled into a rarely empty parking spot at Martanne’s and walked in to sit down at a table of our choosing. Bill had the Two Egg Breakfast, and I the El Pierre. Martanne’s, a Route 66 staple, never disappoints.
After being down in the hustle and bustle of Phoenix since June, it was nice to be embraced by such a small town feel again. And, now we could see that the fire was south of Flagstaff, assuring us that the blaze would not interfere with our plans. What relief I felt as I gazed 6,000 feet up from the base of that extinct stratovolcano.
Since we still had a few more hours in the car, and radio stations were hard to come by. Conversation began to break the silence. Topics included everything from our different experiences in the military, to trips that Bill had made to our destination in the past, to existential conversations about life itself. We found that even though we came from separate times, from different coasts of Michigan, he a city frog and I a country toad, we could still relate on a great many issues.
As we turned off of Highway 89A onto Highway 67, we made a brief pit stop at the Kaibab Plateau Visitor Center to pick up postcards; a tradition of Bill’s.
Our next stop was the Grand Canyon National Park — North Rim Visitor Center. We went on a short walk along the north rim, which I had only glimpsed from the south rim. Along the way Bill pointed out some popular features that were also visible from certain outlooks on the south rim, or along the popular Bright Angel and Kaibab trails. Places like Indian Gardens and Phantom Ranch. After some seeking, and moving along the rim, I was even able find a view of Horseshoe Mesa; the place at Grand Canyon National Park which I have become most familiar.
We ate a late lunch at the lodge, both of us opting for the smoked brisket burrito, with verde salsa. As we sat and ate, we were able to see through the gigantic picture windows that line the walls of the dining area, to see a southward facing view of The Canyon, complete with a shadowy outline of the San Francisco Peaks and a sky perfectly accented with fluffy white clouds.
After lunch it was time to head to the spot where we would make camp for the night. We traveled 30 miles through a web of forest service roads to a place called Indian Hallow Campground. Then we parked the car for the last time that week.
We walked the 400m path out to the north rim, where I was treated with my first glimpse of the Esplanade Plateau, 1000 feet below the rim. Bill began pointing out prominent landmarks that would be guiding us along our journey. There was Bridgers Knoll, connected to the rim near Monument Point by a vibrantly colored red saddle made of Hermit Shale. Over the edge of the Esplanade, mostly out of view, stood Cogswell Butte; a landmark that towers above Surprise Valley.
From the rim none of these features seemed to stand out too much from the others. The scale of The Canyon, its sheer enormity, ensured that. No individual feature is more magnificent than the masterpiece as a whole. Powell Plateau, for example, is a huge land mass that has been separated from both the north and south rims through millennia of wind and water erosion. From where I stood, the plateau disguised itself as a piece of the south rim. In reality it stood alone; secluded; cut off from a civilized world that seemed alien, and so distant when gazing out upon such a massive expanse; almost perfectly preserved, and now protected.
We headed back to the car to set up camp. Then we walked back to the rim for a magnificent sunset.
Bill wandered up a side trail, a little higher than where I sat to enjoy the spectacle. But as the sun tucked itself comfortably below the distant horizon I started to wander a little higher, curious to see the view from every angle.
As I walked up the trail, I caught movement from the corner of my eye. I looked down to watch a western diamondback slink across the rocks, into some sparse mormon tea (Ephedra). He coiled up, tasting the air, and carefully eyeballing me. After a short time he decided to move on to a more private venue. What an amazing creature.
Bill came down the trail shortly after I marked the place that the snake had crossed with a cairn. As I showed Bill whose turf we were invading, we both admired the serpent from a distance. Then we moved down the trail a little further, towards camp, but still in view of The Canyon. We noticed bats bolting through the air above our heads; hunting. But as we admired their agility, a peregrine falcon soared into the scene. Predator became prey.
The raptor glided effortlessly high above the colony of unassuming bats before isolating his target and swooping to grab it. Then the falcon, prey grasped in its talons, entered a violent dive, capable of speeds up to 240mph. He let go of the bat and arrested his free fall at the last moment, when it was too late for his foe. Sometimes he disappeared for a while, I assumed to eat, but then he would reappear, high above; preparing for his next assault.
Soon, the night’s last light faded and we retired back to camp. We boiled water for our dehydrated meals, threw blankets into our tents while dinner cooked, and reflected upon our day as we ate. Then we both climbed into our tents, our mobile homes, and bundled up to get some sleep. A calmed eagerness fell over me. I couldn’t wait to be enlightened within The Canyon, but She was already letting me in on some of Her secrets.
Journal entry: Grand Canyon — North Rim
Indian Hallow Campground
