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.