This, then, became the “big day” of my trip—the day on which, per the plan that I’d hatched the previous day, I hiked the farthest into (and then, later, back out of) the canyon. It was the most physically demanding day of the trip by far, even though it still involved a long stretch of just relaxing and reading—and it was also, hands down, the best day of the entire trip!
Since I knew that I could easily hike down to Indian Garden in under three hours, I didn’t fret too much over getting a really early start today; I figured that starting about the same time as the previous day, or even a little later, would be fine. Also, rather than relying on the shuttle bus, today I drove my car to a parking lot near the Bright Angel Trailhead. There’s a bit of a walk from the bus drop-off point at the campground to my site, and I knew that after my 4.5-mile hike up out of the canyon in the evening, I would not be too keen on any more walking! So, I drove, parked, got my gear together, applied my sunscreen, and was ready to set off down the trail by about 7:30.
Having already been down the first part of the trail the previous day, in an initial “take it all in” mode, today I decided to make more methodical observations on my way down. For example, I counted how many switchbacks there actually are along the trail, from the rim to Indian Garden—as well as where, in this counting, various landmarks are located. The count grew a bit meaningless toward the end, because (as seen in one of the photos that I’d taken the previous day from Trail View Overlook) there’s a long stretch of trail leading into the Indian Garden area that doesn’t really do the switchback thing anymore (you’re near the bottom of the side canyon down which the trail has descended, and it’s just sloping more or less straight toward the inner canyon off ahead). However, counting that last stretch as the final “switchback,” there were 37 of them. The first rest house is located on the 13th, and the second on the 25th. The two tunnels near the top are on the 2nd and 4th. Of course, some switchbacks are very short, while others seemed to drag on forever, so counting them was, at best, only a very approximate way of tracking my progress; still, later on, I would find it enormously helpful to be able to count them down on my way back up. It really helped me to have a sense that I was getting somewhere!
I didn’t take many pictures on my way down today, but here are a couple that I did get:
I forget exactly what time it was when I reached Indian Garden, but it certainly was not past 10:00—so the first half of my hike was an official success! I was hot, somewhat tired, and quite hungry and thirsty, but none of these things were problems; as advertised, there was drinking water and plenty of shade to rest in, and I (of course) had brought food (though I had to fight off the many vicious squirrels who were determined to steal it). I put my head under the water spigot first, then filled up my bottles, then sat down on a bench in the shade right by the spigot, quaffing and munching on cashews and reading my book. There were plenty of other people down there—some who, like me, had just hiked down, others who had come down on a previous day and were camping down there, etc. People would greet each other, swap stories, etc. From some of them, I learned that nearby, there was a spot where a small creek formed a little pool, and you could sit on the rocks at the edge of the pool and put your feet in the water. That sounded like heaven (and besides, the bench that I was resting on wasn’t terribly comfortable), so I went in search of the said creek and pool after a while. It turned out to be an absolutely delightful spot; extremely shady, with a couple of picnic tables, the creek babbling past over rocks, and of course the pool. Thus, this became my spot for the rest of the day down there; I’d sit by the pool with my feet in the water for a while, then relocate to a picnic table for a while, then back to the pool, all through the late morning and the afternoon. I ate my lunch, I got lots of reading in, and for a while I even laid myself flat on the picnic bench, with my book for a pillow, and half-dozed. While I doubt I could have really slept like this, without my C-PAP machine, it was surprisingly comfortable and restful!
So, I passed the day down there quite pleasantly. There was a ranger making the rounds and trying to recruit people to come to her informational program on birds that was scheduled for 4:00, which was tempting—but I knew that I needed to be starting back up the canyon by 4:00, or at least not too much later than that, so I opted not to go. In the event, though, 4:00 came and went while I was engrossed in my book, so I didn’t get myself packed up and back on the trail until about 4:32. Skipping the ranger program was still the right decision, though, or it would have been even later than that!
I started my trek back up. Looking up at the canyon wall that I had to scale, towering above me, was pretty intimidating!
Also, just as I was getting back to the start of faux-switchback #37, to where the “real climb,” in some ways, began, I was startled to suddenly find myself about five feet away from this guy:
Somewhat to my surprise, the climb—though definitely difficult—actually went fairly quickly, especially at first. The sun was largely blocked by the canyon rim, so I was in shade. I started counting back down through the 36 “real” switchbacks that I had enumerated that morning on the way down, and for much of the way, they actually seemed to be sort of flying by (apart from two or three really long ones). Almost before I knew it, I was back to the 3-mile rest house—a third of the way up! While resting there, I exchanged greetings with a couple who were also on the way up and had gotten there before me, and also talked a little with a guy who was coming up behind me and caught up to me while I was stopped. The rest of the way up, this couple, the other guy, and I kept encountering each other—catching up to each other, passing each other, stopping to rest and being passed, etc.
As I continued my climb, I started taking pictures looking back down at the progress that I’d made, rather than looking ahead at the wall yet to be scaled:
At the 1.5-mile rest house, I was still going strong. I mean—don’t get me wrong; it was very taxing, and I certainly rested. But only 13 more switchbacks, after having already climbed 24? That’s nothing! A few more switchbacks up, though, and I definitely started losing some steam. Rest pauses became more frequent. I was getting pretty worn out, and the fact that I was somehow parched and coated in dry dust, yet also sweaty (and more than a little ripe), didn’t help matters. I started thinking about the shower that I hoped to take when I got back to the campground (which would be my first since the morning of Day 3 of the trip). Still, until around switchback #8, they continued to go by pretty quick. “Single digits already!?” I said to myself. “I’ve practically licked this thing!” But those last 8 or so switchbacks really dragged—and even more so, the last 4, especially since #s 2-4 are particularly long ones. It’s actually sort of hard to strike the right balance in describing it, though. Certainly, I got to a point where I was aching and exhausted and really ready to be done, and yet the trail still stretched on before me, and all I could do was continue hauling myself up it. But I never got to a point of regretting having gotten myself into this, or felt any real fear of not being able to make it out, or anything along those lines.
I reached the rim, and the end of the trail, at about 7:30—so the whole climb had only taken me three hours! And did I immediately collapse in exhaustion upon reaching the top? No! I just breathed a sigh, then headed for the parking lot where I’d left my car. I felt a sense of accomplishment, and of the weirdness of suddenly being at the top again, in the normal world, and the contrast between that and being on the canyon trail. But my focus was on getting to my car, getting back to the campground, getting cash, and turning it into change for the pay shower. By the time I’d done all that, and showered and changed, and was feeling less gross, the sun was setting, which meant having to cook my latish dinner in the dark. The weird thing, too, was that whereas I’d expected to be ravenous, I wasn’t; I almost had to force myself to eat dinner. I didn’t think I’d gone overboard on lunch & snacks during the day down at Indian Garden, but…huh. Too tired to have an appetite? I dunno, but it was a little annoying not to have that experience of the unbelievably delicious meal after a bunch of hard exertion that I’d anticipated having. Ah, well. I eventually crawled into my tent, where I slept very, very soundly.
Good day.