On the trail

Over the years, a quick check suggests, I've posted five times about my trips to the Grand Canyon.  Perhaps I've exhausted the topic.

Perhaps.  But Friday I fly to Phoenix, and thence by car once more to my favorite park for pre-summer hiking.  A short visit -- I'll stay there just three nights.  I hope to do a little hiking.

In 2012, I hiked from the South Rim down to the river and back in one day.  Against the Park Service's fervid advice.  But it had been snowing up at the top (it was still April), and temperatures were quite pleasant at river level, so the usual fears of heat prostration didn't pertain.

Last week, temperatures down at the river were running in the 90s, and I had my doubts about trying it again.  But the weather has moderated over the past few days.  I'll just have to wait and see what conditions are like when I arrive Friday evening.

If conditions are ideal, I'd like to hike once more down to the river, and then another two miles up the river to Phantom Ranch.  Ever tried getting reservations at the ranch?  Good luck!  I tried to get accommodations for my family a couple of years ago.  They have to be obtained thirteen months in advance.  On the appointed first day of the month, you call the designated phone number over and over, hoping to get through while everyone else is doing the same thing at the same time.  All reservations for the month in question -- thirteen months in the future -- were gone within a half hour.

So if I can't stay at Phantom Ranch, I'd at least like to look it over and say that I'd seen it.  But getting there would add another four miles to my day's hike.

I was pretty exhausted when I arrived back at the rim three years ago.  And as folks are kind enough to point out, I'm not getting any younger.  We'll see.

The Grand Canyon is so beautiful, so awe-inspiring, so "awesome" in the real sense of the word, that it's silly to turn a hike in the canyon into some kind of "personal best" contest with myself, some kind of desperate attempt to prove that I'm still a kid.  I'll keep that prudent sentiment in mind this weekend.

I recall a Park Service sign pointing out that -- on average -- every two or steps down the trail takes you through another million years of geologic history.  That's something to think about.  Something to make one feel small and insignificant. 

But then -- as the one-time tiniest kid in my class -- that's always come easily to me anyway.  I'll let y'all know how things work out.