That's why my son planned the trip for the last week in April. It was actually snowing on the rim when we got back to the top. But the bottom was pleasantly warm and idyllic.moderne wrote: Brings back some vivid memories: we hiked on foot to the bottom of the canyon. It was a pleasant alpine day on the rim, by the time we got to the bottom it was a blazing desert inferno.
Ha! I can certainly sympathasize with you, somewhat in reverse. I remember looking at the hikers on foot with envy. I figured my butt would hurt. What I didn't count on was the excruciating pain in my legs. It was right up there with childbirth. We were told before we left that no complaining would be allowed. So I whimpered and moaned quietly.Going down was easy, uphill was a nightmare. About a third of the way up I got shin splints and had to rest every 20 yards or so. I wanted to drag someone off their mule passing us and hijack the beast. Going down I was careful not to step in any mule droppings, going up I was doing good just to get a foot in front of the other, so I plodded through many a pile.
It was raining--and snowing--when we got back up to the top. I just wanted to get off the saddle and into a warm vehicle.Then about 2/3 of the way up a thunderstorm hit, it was like the music from Grofe's Grand Canyon Suite. Wind about to blow me off the ledge, lightining strikes all around. Finally make it up and back to the campground and my tent had blown over.
Now for more pictures.
I cannot remember seeing a sandy beach next to a river before. Here is one.
Fossil trails.
I couldn't bear to crop this one to fit into a 4:3 space, so I framed it with a 4:3 piece of itself.
Something dramatic must have occurred to get those giant rock layers to turn vertical.
I cannot say that no human was harmed in the taking of this picture. Those cactus barbs were sharp!
End of day. Had to get back to the cabin for a welcomed, long night's sleep.
It is April 28, 2005, and we are waiting for the breakfast bell to ring. Best breakfast I ever had.
I was already on my mule, Cricket, so I could take a picture of my husband getting onto Mutton. The mules are given names that cannot possibly be confused with people's names. Both mules and humans perk up when called by name.
This is actually a small portion of the original picture. I'm including it so you can see the mules and riders on the narrow bridge. They began their ascent just before we did.
Husband and Mutton with son and Sugar close behind. I liked this picture, but I didn't care for the unnecessarily busy background on the left side, so I cut it out.
I managed to get a shot or two of the canyon on the way back up. I was in considerable pain until I learned to occasionally stretch my legs straight out. The wranglers didn't like for riders to do that. Too bad.
The mules got to rest midway back up. So did we.