Grand Canyon Day 1 -- From Blizzard to Beaches

Our first day began, as I've noted, in a blizzard at the top of the Canyon rim, after 10-15 inches of snowfall. Only some of the roads had been plowed, as we shouldered our packs and began the hike.

Our goal for the day was the Bright Angel campground, 9 miles away on the trail and roughly 4800 feet down. Down is a particularly hard direction to train for going in! You can do stair master for the uphill climb but nothing really prepares you for walking down hill, except, I guess, walking down hill. We discovered that there are two areas of the body particularly engaged when walking down hill that are a surprise for their involvement -- the hip flexors and the calves. Apparently, the calves are an important part of the downward flex of your ankle. I suppose we "knew" that in some intellectual sense, but that is very, very different from having your calves scream at you and tell you about it.

The snow on the trail went down roughly the first 2000 feet and about 3 miles into the walk. It wasn't just that the snow was bad -- it actually wasn't. But what was far worse was the oozing red mud. As the day got warmer and as we walked down toward a hotter part of the canyon, the snow started melting. And the melt mixed with the bright red dirt to form mud ... and mud puddles to go with them. You haven't truly "lived" until you've stepped in a mud puddle and felt the water ooze into your shoes and soak your socks.

After 3 hours we'd gotten half way down the canyon to a small oasis called Indian Gardens. More about that place tomorrow, as we stopped there to camp on the climb out. But after a quick and tasty lunch (it turns out that our guide, Ryan, is secretly a true cordon bleu chef -- not really, but he managed to do some pretty good things with very limited gear and food. Our first dinner -- ramen noodle stir fry with terriakyi sauce -- was really quite excellent) we resumed the downward hke

On the way down we passed through a part of the trail known as the Devil's Corkscrew. Now, you don't need to know anything at all more about this part of the trail to know that it isn't really the most fun place in the world. Its about 1 mile long and 1000 foot drop and the trail is basically plastered to a side wall of the canyon. It's 3-5 feet wide and on the open side there is .... nothing. Nothing at all but a downward drop. The pictures don't really do the trail justice, but they will have to do for a good description.

Once past the corkscrew we were almost home. Most of the way to the bottom and just a couple miles of walking to get there. But there was one more bridge to cross, so to speak. A real bridge, known as Silver Bridge. Unfortunately, the roadway on the bridge was not a solid road -- just a series of cross hatched steel ribs that you could see through. To be honest, I was more scared looking down through the steel to the raging river below than I was on the Corkscrew -- it's just the way my mind is wired I guess.

But we made it across and too the bottom, there to find ... another surprise ... sandy beaches on the banks of the Colorado River. Of course it was too cold to go swimming -- but the image of going from a blizzard to a beach in 1 day is pretty evocative.

We made camp at Bright Angel and set up the tents. After dinner, we walked over to the Cantina at Phantom Ranch -- a small bar where Jim and I drank a well-deserved lemonade and bought postcards to mail home. One "neat factoid" is that the mail is carted out from Phantom Ranch every day by mule -- one of only two postal stations in America still served by mule rather than by car or foot. When we were done, it was back to camp for a well-deserved rest.