I awoke, pretty pleased with myself at purchasing a fairly pricey sleeping bag earlier in my trip. With -10°C temperatures outside the tent at night, the warm canvas cacoon came into its own. If anything I was too warm. Although as Elicia pointed out, this was probably due to my slight fever from the tonsilitis.
Returning from the clinic after collecting my antibiotics I discovered the camp was empty and everyone had buggered off. Still feeling starving I took the opportunity to slowly but successfully eat a breakfast of painkillers and a yogurt from the Trek America trailer. My first sort of proper food since Vegas. Yogurt, it appears, was the way to go and I made a mental note to purchase some more later in the day.
I figured everyone had gone off on the hikes planned the previous evening. Myself and couple of others had planned to do a fairly nice hike to a place in the Grand Canyon called Skeleton Point. All the hikes are pre mapped out in a fair bit of detail so unless you possess no navigational skills at all it’s just a case of walking along the path until the sign that says ‘Skeleton Point’.
Having not seen the Grand Canyon yet (missed out on the sunset remember) I was eagerly anticipating the view from the top. Getting to the beginning of the trail involved a ride on the Grand Canyon shuttle bus, driven by the world’s most paranoid bus driver. I was waiting at the bus stop and as it pulled up I do that thing we all do for some reason and take a few steps in the direction of the bus as it’s moving towards us. Thinking about this now and i’m not really sure why we do this. Because we think we’ll get on the bus earlier and therefore reach our final destination in less time? Because we think walking a few steps towards the bus will in some way ‘help the bus driver out’? I’m not sure but I learnt that it’s definitely not the latter. I took two steps forward and suddenly an angry voice blasts over the bus’ external PA.
“DO NOT WALK TOWARDS THE BUS UNTIL IT HAS COME TO A COMPLETE STOP. ONLY ENTER THE BUS FROM THE FRONT DOORS.”
“Sorry” I muttered to the bus driver lady as I entered (through the front doors). Taking my seat near the back we headed on our journey through the pine forests towards the beginning of the trail. The bus driver took several opportunities to instruct passengers not to eat or drink on the bus, keep bags off the floor and never, ever leave anything in the aisle. Perhaps she used to drive an inner city school bus before transferring to ferrying tourists around National Parks because I think she was under the impression that we’d start opening the windows, climbing over the seats, shout and fight the second her back was turned. In fact i’d say we were a pretty reserved lot of passengers with me being the youngest by about 30 years. Possibly the only one there not on a retirement vacation.
As we approached the canyon itself I noticed an orange glow between the trees caused by the sun reflecting off the miles of orange rock that lay behind them.
You eventually reach the point where the treeline stops and sprawling out in front of you lies the grand canyon. When you reach that point you’re overcome by a sense of insignificance which i’d actually felt several times so far in the past week or so when visiting these natural (and in the case of Vegas, man-made) wonders of the American West. The Grand Canyon looks very much like it does in all the pictures you’ve seen. Although being american, it’s far bigger than you can possibly imagine. The banded sides of the canyon encompass the entire red, orange and yellow spectrum, the rock at the bottom being some of the oldest exposed rock on the planet.
The Canyon is not just made up of one canyon though. Cutting into it are huge side canyons that feature towering red rock monuments where the rivers meet. The South Kaibab trail that I was walking along started out in one such side canyon and the path made a steep descent down the side of one of the rock faces as it headed towards the main Canyon. This was the real American West. Cacti and tumbleweeds growing and blowing along the sides of the path and the intense heat from the sun beating down on you, the wilderness around you no doubt teeming with rattlesnakes, tarantulas and scorpions. Walking along this trail you eventually reach an unmarked viewpoint named ‘Ooh Ahh Point’. So called because this is the point where it opens out into the rest of the canyon and everyone ends up uttering the phrase “Ooh, Ahh” as they reach for their cameras.
The walk to Skelton Point was a much easier one than the epic hike in Yosemite a few days earlier. Sadly I was still in a fair bit of pain from the sore throat so it was difficult to fall completely in love with the place and fully appreciate it but it was still fairly stunning to behold. Looking far off into the depths of the Canyon you can just make out the Colorado river that’s been sculpting the rock for the last 17 million years. Numerous signs along the path warn visitors not to attempt hiking to the river and back in one day because of the risks of dehydration and exhaustion, which leads to deaths every summer.
Codeine time rolled around at 2pm and it sent me into an afternoon sleep on a rock on the Canyon rim. Probably one of my more spectacular dozing off locations. Eventually I set off back up the trail when I bumped into the rest of my group coming down the other way. Hiking alone is not so much fun so I turned around and hiked back to skeleton point along with Jacob, Rum, Elicia & Katherine and Anina. The route back was far more unforgiving than the way down. My knees remembered what i’d done to them a few days before in the Sierra Nevada mountains and protested profusely.
The need to keep hydrated was also a problem, what with my throat feeling like i’d inadvertently swallowed a lot of wire wool some point earlier. I’d taken a liking to lemon flavoured water during Trek America after inadvertently buying a pack in Wal-Mart on the first day and not realising it contained a splash de limon as the pack said. I ended up using the bottles as pain relievers for when I had to swallow some water. I’d take a sip of water, put the lid back on the bottle, and then simultaneously swallow the water and squeeze the bottle as hard as I could, thus slightly taking my mind off the pain that followed. Sort of like medieval physicians giving their patients something to bite on whilst they amputated limbs without anaesthetic. I do concede that perhaps that pain is somewhat worse than tonsilitis.
On the way back from our desert adventure we stopped off at the general store. Here I stocked up on various flavours of yogurt to make my breakfasts, lunches and dinners slightly more varied whilst the girls mulled over which little Grand Canyon ornaments they should buy for their loved ones back in down under land. I had a look to but unfortunately am rubbish at ornament buying and so if I were my loved ones, I wouldn’t count on getting Grand Canyon ornaments this Christmas.
On the final morning in Grand Canyon the rest of the group had elected to go on a helicopter ride over the Canyon. Despite it supposedly being a stunning way to see the Canyon in all it’s glory I was still feeling slightly bitter towards most things due to my throat feeling like i’d been gargling battery acid. I wasn’t as in love with the Canyon as I was with Yosemite and was on a tight budget. (to Alan and Jocelyn, aka the father and sister managing my money and bank statements for me back home i’m sure it appears like i’m haemorrhaging money all over the place, but I am honestly trying to be careful with it) I would instead decide instead to splash out on a scuba diving course in Honduras when my travels eventually took me that way.
Whilst they were flying overhead I took a trip to the nearby Imax cinema to watch a film on the Grand Canyon and waited around in McDonald’s for the group to return. Here I managed to drink an entire iced coffee with little difficulty. The antibiotics were beginning to do their job. I was particularly proud of this seemingly mundane feat which is why it gets a place right at the end of this blog entry.
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