Water in the Canyon

This past Friday, Eric and I headed into the canyon mid-morning. We lucked out with some clouds and a few rain sprinkles here and there as we descended 4000 feet and 7 miles on the North Kaibab trail. Without the clouds, it would have easily reached 110 degrees with very little shade to break the heat. Instead, I thanked the clouds for shielding us from the harsh rays.

On the North Kaibab Trail between Cottonwood and Ribbon Falls.

We hiked fast to Cottonwood Campground, the only place to stay the night between the North Rim and Phantom Ranch at the Colorado River. Camp was set up just in time for a heavy rainstorm. When we saw blue skies headed our way we set out another 2 miles to Ribbon Falls. It was an oasis like that of Rivendale in the Lord of the Rings (ahem, nerdy reference)—the waterfall cascading over rocks covered in green moss, the stream gently carving rock, creating life for canyon plants.

Eric standing at the base of Ribbon Falls.

After minor exploring of the side canyon and waterfall, we hiked back to the campsite before dark, meeting three guys from Brooklyn who were taking their yearly summer trip to the National Parks.

We awoke early the next morning as the sun made its way into the canyon and packed up camp to hike to Roaring Springs, about 2 miles up the North Kaibab toward the North Rim. After bushwhacking and stream crossing we found a shaded spot near water on which to spend the heat of the day. The water was ice cold, and my feet turned numb in seconds. It was impossible to submerge for more than 2 seconds, the air was pushed from my lungs and my brain froze. But, on a sunny day in the canyon, the water was a nice break, although very temporary. And the shade made all the difference. We had a relaxing afternoon of playing cards, Sudoku, and napping. Once the sun dipped behind the canyon walls to the West, we began our hike out.

View of Roaring Springs from the North Kaibab Trail.

We hiked the last 5 miles, 5200 feet in elevation, with the steepest switchbacks on the trail, in record time. It helped that the sun was setting, the moon was rising, and the temperature quickly dropped without clouds to insulate the desert air. As night descended, we noticed neon yellow specs on the edge of the trail. Turning on my headlamp, we discovered they were bioluminescent worms—in the canyon this far away from water? In the desert? The mystery of their origins and their place in this hot, dry ecosystem remains.

My legs are sore, but my passion for the outdoors is satisfied for the time being. The canyon walls are impressively massive, recording millions of years of history in their sediment. Every step I took was a year in time, the prehistoric to the present. I probably won't make it into the canyon again for awhile since the heat of summer is here.

Angel's Landing

My last two days off I headed to Zion National Park with Eric, Heather, and Heather's friend Scott who was visiting from Texas. We left Friday morning and picked up supplies in Kanab, UT, a small hippie-Mormon town between here and Zion.

We spent our first night on some property just outside Zion owned by a very generous couple who works here. We set up our tents and hammock and relaxed from our tedious work-week. The other side of the fence denoting the property line lay Zion, and we tried to explore a little but could not find the non-maintained trail that was rumored to be there. Instead we started a fire and cooked up some Jiffy Pop, pork, corn, and couscous. Car camping allowed us to be luxurious with our meals, and we enjoyed the taste of real food- a nice change from the EDR.

We awoke early Saturday morning and headed into Zion after some tasty breakfast burritos.

Eric and Heather at the camp Friday night.

On the drive into Zion we stopped before driving through the Tunnel to take a quick 1-mile round trip jaunt to see Canyon Overlook. At around 4000 feet in elevation (but varying greatly due to the canyons and rock formations) it continued to grow hot throughout the day and the sun was unforgiving.

By the time we reached the trailhead to Angel's Landing, the temperature had peaked at about 98 degrees F. Although only 2.5 miles out to the overlook at Angel's Landing (5 miles round trip), there is a 1500 foot rise in elevation. We started in the early afternoon, the hottest part of the day and slowly made our way up the steep trail and switchbacks. There were some trees for shade and cool rock walls where we could find some relief from the heat. After a couple of miles, it become so steep and shear that chains were installed to help hikers pull themselves up to the overlook. It was a bit nerve-wracking, being afraid of heights and bad in the unforgiving heat, but the view down to the Virgin River and across the canyon was worth it.

View of Zion from Angel's Landing. 2.5 mi and 1500 feet up.

Although difficult on the knees and ankles, the way down was much easier-the sun was lower in the sky, casting larger shadows to escape to, and gravity was on our side. Once we reached the bottom, we cooled off in the frigid waters of the Virgin River.

After setting up at our site in the campground, we headed out to Springdale, the little hippie-resort town outside the West entrance of Zion, for a well deserved dinner. Mexican food never tasted so good.

strange words

I come across a wide variety of guests on my job. Some are incredibly rude and make me feel insignificant while others put a smile on my face. Here are some kind words, if not a bit strange, that have stuck with me:

As I was seating and handing out menus to a family- mom, dad, and son- the dad looks up and said, "You have the most gorgeous smile. It just beams." I looked from him to his wife and son and back to him and smiled nervously, "Thank you. Enjoy your meal."

After a man had finished his dinner, he walked passed me and told me, "You have the coolest haircut. Really." I smiled and glanced at his incredibly muscular arms about to rip through his t-shirt, "Thanks. Have a good night."

My favorite compliment came from a man who first said to me, "Hello, Gorgeous." as I sent him and his friend to a table for dinner. On his way out he stopped by the host stand, looked at me, and said, "Has anyone ever told you that your eyes are like the valley in the morning?" I glanced at him a bit embarrassed and replied, "No. Thank you."

I may not be the best at taking compliments, but when there is a problem with bookings or a couple who is mad about not getting placed at a window table, I know what to say.

I can't say that I really enjoy my job. I go to work and watch as the hands on the clock at the front desk creep from minute to minute and hour to hour. I look out the window as the shadows change across the canyon. I daydream about hiking or holding a job where I am fighting to conserve and protect the planet. I'm not ready for a career, but I am ready for a job in my field of study. I am too passionate about the state of the environment to just seat people by the window. I want to volunteer with the cleanup effort in the Gulf of Mexico and along the coast.

Photo taken by Chris Graythen of the Gulf Oil Spill

But here I am, at the Grand Canyon. I live for my days off where I can hike and explore and I live for the possibilities of what may come next.

work work work

I regret that I have not taken the time to write an entry before now, but with wireless internet down in the EDR, it takes an extra effort to go online.

The last couple weeks I have been working hard (or is it hardly working?) so that on my few days off I wasn’t quite as adventurous as I would have liked to be.

The entrance to the Dining Room from the lobby (note the host stand and the stairs).

As a host, there are three different shifts that we can be scheduled to work: BL, D1, D2. As a BL, I arrive at the dining room at 6:30 am to start seating for breakfast. I get a break from 10:00 to 11:00 to eat lunch back at the EDR and then start again and seat for lunch and do my side work (wiping down menus, wiping the railings and host stand, sweeping the stairs, switching the menus to the next meal, etc) until 2:30 pm.

As a D1, I come into work at 2:00 pm to allow the BL shift to start her side work. D1 is the “Maître d’” shift because for 2 hours D1 takes calls and answers questions for guests while the dining room is prepared for dinner. I have a dinner break from 4:00 to 4:45, barely able to make it back to the EDR to toss food back. Then from 4:45 to the last seating around 9:30, D1 gives guests pagers, answers the phone, and directs the other host where to seat the guests if needed.

As a D2, I show up to work at 4:00 pm to allow D1 to take her dinner break. When D1 is back, I stand at the bottom of the stairs and show quests to their seats. At the end of the seating, D2 does the closing side work and prepares the menus for breakfast.

Last week I worked a D2 and then turned around to work five BL shifts in a row. Having worked closing shifts at Coffee Tree Roasters, I was not used to waking up early and heading into work immediately. By my fourth BL shift, I was a bit loopy and all of the servers and bussers got a kick out of it. However, by the fifth, I was completely exhausted.

I slept most of the day after my last BL shift and headed out car camping on Monday, my only day off this week. Most anyone from the Dining Room staff who had the day off drove out to a point in the Kaibab National Forest and set up hammocks and tents. We had a campfire and kicked back with some beers and burgers and snacks. It felt great to sleep in a tent, and I got more sleep that night than I had with all of my crazy shifts the previous week.

The view from our campsite in the Kaibab National Forest.

This week I have four D1 shifts and then a BL before having two (very needed) days off.