Down in the Canyon - From the Canyon to a Ghost Town

Tuesday, April 15th - Landing in Jerome

Jerome, Arizona, is embedded into the side of a mountain and, like other mountain towns, the host mountain has been branded with the initial of the town.  

It is a town with three eras: it came into existence as a copper mining town, became a "ghost town" when the copper was depleted, and has been reborn as an artistic enclave which simultaneously embraces innovation and creativity while celebrating its past.  It's a place where one can, in the course of a single afternoon, get a glass-blowing demonstration complete with a science lesson, admire intricate pottery and paintings, hold ammonite and trilobite fossils in one's hand, consider the supposed healing powers of "massage wands," peruse copper-encrusted jewelry, and have a burger and brew at the "Haunted Hamburger."  All of which we did with only one regret: we passed on some promising desserts at the Haunted Hamburger expecting to indulge in some ice cream at local specialty shops, only to find all such places closed at 6 PM promptly . . .  about 5 minutes BEFORE we left the restaurant! 

We made our way to Cottonwood, AZ to settle in for the night at a Quality Inn whose best feature was its proximity to a Dairy Queen.  Ice cream was had . . . 

On Wednesday, we'll make our way to Tucson to spend the remainder of our vacation with good friends Anne and Rod. 

Down in the Canyon - DOWN IN THE CANYON!!

Monday, April 14th, Descent on the Bright Angel Trail

Around 10:30, we began our descent into the Grand Canyon.  The Bright Angel Trail is wide (mostly) and clear and affords hikers a reasonably simple way to become more acquainted with the Canyon. 

(courtesy of azraft.com)

 

The trail goes out for several miles, descending several thousand feet from the 6800+ foot rim.  Our goal was to hike in to the 1.5 mile mark, losing 1100 feet of altitude along the way. 

We came up just a bit short of that goal, though the nearly 3-hour trip was an unqualified success!  Some highlights:

Early on, there is an excellent short tunnel pass-through, the result of erosion and amplified by human hands.  On the far side of the tunnel, we spotted some petroglyphs in red  dye . . .  clear symbols that must have been words, followed by several rudimentary drawings that were elk-like.  I must admit that we did not see this on the way down but were alerted to it on the way back up by a pair of shoeless hikers who were Canyon pros!

Along the way, there were several tight turns from which Liam learned the meaning of "hairpin."

The views from within the Canyon are, naturally, remarkable and the recognition that one is now inside the scene is hard to describe.  It's as if one had entered a painting after long admiring it from the gallery floor. There's a constant tension, however, of both looking down to assure your footing and looking up to take it all in.

After descending several hundred feet, one is treated to an near-instant transformation.  The ground below you turns from sandy yellow to brick red in a matter of 100 paces!  The sharp division, between the colored layers of rock that one sees from the rim, is a treat to experience personally.  It feels like a milestone (sandstone, limestone, "milestone?"). . . "we're in the red!"

Deep into the red, Beth and I decide that, though we're about a half-mile short of the first rest station, our knees and muscles were announcing their displeasure.  Knowing that uphill would be harder than downhill, we paused, took some additional photos, and began the slow ascent back to the rim.

Down in the Canyon - Fossil Walk

Monday, April 14th,  Bright Angel Trail Lodge Fossil Walk

After another satisfying breakfast at the Canyon Cafe - fully paid for, by the way - we took a shuttle over to the Bright Angel Trail Lodge.  From here we were to take the Bright Angel Trail down into the Canyon.  As that can start whenever one decides, we delayed our descent in order to benefit from a park-sponsored, ranger-led Fossil Walk at 9 AM.

(National Park Serivce photo . . . not our guide)

Ranger Jennifer was an upbeat, informed guide who was unusually patient with some very clingy young kids.  "Everybody take two steps back please," became the morning's refrain.  Along the way, she spoke boldly and confidently about deep time, once even mentioning that, at one time, it was impossible to measure such times and that many people thought that the Earth was only a few thousand years old.  At one time  . .  but clearly not now.  During a down moment, I spoke with her about the curious juxtaposition of the political and geological aspects of Arizona.  She shook her head at the dilemma but was polite as she responded.  When dealing with matters of faith, evidence is irrelevant.

Ranger Jennifer taught us a helpful mnemonic for the forces that have shaped the Canyon: DUDE.

First D: Deposition of material (calcium carbonate from the oceanic era, mud from swampier times, and a massive layer of sand from the most recent desert-era).

U: Upwelling of the layers in a remarkably uniform way.

Second D: Downcutting from the Colorado River, creating the canyon depth while carving away material.

E: Erosion via wind, water, and ice.

She then brought us to an area of the park, not far from the lodge, where one can find fossils every five feet or so.  Liam was particularly adept at finding imprints of feathery shapes, most likely the fans of some ancient fern- or clam-like organism.   

(all photos courtesy of the National Park Services)

Having spotted a dozen or more fossils, we were ready for our descent!

Canyon Critters: While waiting for the tour to begin, we had a coffee and a cinnamon roll.  Our food on the stone edge of the canyon was enough of an invitation for an enterprising and fearless squirrel to join us.  Trained by thousands of interactions with human visitors, the squirrel traded his charisma for calories, this despite the numerous park signs discouraging the feeding of the wildlife.  Proudly, I can say that, while we took pictures, we did not reward him with any food.  For several minutes, however, this common squirrel absolutely trumped the Grand Canyon in terms of visitor attention.

Also, during the Fossil Walk, we spotted a pair of California Condors . . .  giant birds of prey swirling and soaring high above our group.  It was impossible to not think they were looking for the feeble among us.  It added some spring to my step, for sure!  

(courtesy of National Park Service)

Here's a link to a podcast about the California Condor:

http://www.nps.gov/grca/naturescience/california-condors.htm

Down in the Canyon - Arriving at the Park

Sunday Evening, April 13th, Grand Canyon

As we entered the park and approached the first view point, Liam said, "My hands are clammy from excitement!"  

For an hour or so, we wove our way from viewpoint to viewpoint, taking in the enormity of the Canyon.  Words are inadequate  . . . but breathtaking, humbling, staggering, and overwhelming are a start.  The Grand Canyon is not just a single gorge, carved by a river and endless time, but a network of channels separated by mind-boggling buttes, called "temples" originally by an early naturalist with a background in ancient religions.   Looking down into the Canyon, one is challenged to find the Colorado River as it could be at the bottom of any one of dozens of slices within the rock.  

The first stop from the east entrance into the park is Desert View. Contrary to my more general statement above, one can really make out the Colorado from here.

(courtesy virtualtourist.com)

Desert View is the home to a magnificent watchtower, making our first stop one at which we spent considerable time exploring.  The howling wind of Sunday evening made the trip up the watchtower just a bit more exciting!

(again, courtesy of virtualtourist.com)

The Canyon, it turns out, is unique in the world.  While there are other places in the world where deep time is revealed within the rock layers, no other place upwelled so perfectly uniformly!  The Arizona upwellings (not just the Canyon, but Sedona as well, and other sites throughout the state) lifted as a whole, with little to no buckling, tilting, lilting, or crumbling.  As a result, one can see the evidence of ancient oceans, swamps, and deserts in the alternating colors of the rock layers.  The deeper you go in the Canyon, the further back in time one proceeds.

For us, the first 90 minutes or so whetted out appetites.  Liam and Beth took pictures, I gazed at it all through some binoculars, and we wound our way to the Market Plaza to settle down for the night.  We checked in to our lodge, grabbed dinner at the Canyon Cafe, and were asleep by 9 PM.  Monday's plan included a descent into the Canyon!

Canyon Scofflaw: At the Canyon Cafe, I lost track of Liam for a minute.  I wandered back and forth looking for him . . .  then saw him at the far end of the cafeteria, happily eating his hot dog.  I waved him over to the railing that separated those who have paid from those who are about to.  I asked him how he had paid for his meal and he said, "You have to pay???!!"  Apparently, he took his tray, hot dog, and apple juice and skipped the time-honored tradition of going through the cafe line and simply did an end-run (more likely a blithe end-walk) around the outside of the cafeteria rails.  In other words, he walked out the way we walked in.  I got him to return with his meal and introduced him the quaint custom of "commerce."

(screenshot of yelp review of Canyon Cafe)

Tomorrow, we finally head IN to the Canyon with a plan to hike about a mile in on the Bright Angel Trail!

Down in the Canyon - Sedona to The Park

Sunday, April 13th

We left Sedona after a tremendous SW breakfast of huevos rancheros (eggs, beans, salsa and more over a tortilla) and huevos con churizo (eggs with sausage) and a stop in a local park for a stroll.  The park featured a playground, tennis courts, and two baseball diamonds . . .  all nestled up against the awe-inspiring buttes (learned the name . . .  no mere " outcroppings" here!) I spoke of earlier.  I can't imagine how many Little League game outcomes have turned as some poor kid who, mesmerized by the surroundings, loses track of the game as a groundball rifles by him for the game-winning hit!

Instead of the main highway north to Flagstaff and Cameron, we decide to take one of the secondary roads . . .  and what a superb decision that turns out to be.  The scenery is magnificent and the travel is eased by view after amazing view.  Sedona's at about 2000 feet above sea level and Flagstaff is at about 5000, so the trip is uphill all the way but, mostly, gently uphill.  In Flagstaff we are briiefly on Route 66, allowing us to check off a pop song cliche ("Flagstaff, Arizona, don't forget Winona, Kingman, Bostock, San Bernadino . . . ") from our life-list.  Flagstaff also turns out to be the last civilized place in Arizona before the Grand Canyon National Park.  Not that we knew that . . . we passed on stopping in one of the many supermarkets to pick up vittles thinking we'd be able to do so at Cameron, the last village one enters before the park.

As we approached Cameron, we noticed a dramatic change in the land.  From about 5 miles away, one can see all signs of vegetation disappear.  The desert.  Flat, dry, and windy.  Tumbleweeds roll across the highway in small numbers at first, then in a flurry later.  A haze sets over the land, born not of mist or fog or smoke but of dust particles.  The wind howls and swirls and buffets cars left and right.  Giant roadsigns proclaim the wonders of the Cameron Trading Post and, why not?  It's the only commerce in an otherwise poverty-stricken region where trailers and pick-ups rest side-by-side in the desert just off the road.  The Painted Desert is just  a few miles east and the Grand Canyon a few west but here in Cameron, there's little to amuse or distract other than the Trading Post. 

 (courtesy of fabgrandma.com)

We stop and push through the wind to enter the Trading Post.  It's enormous and offers everything from Native American crafts to Prickly Pear Licorice to T-shirts to groceries. 

 There's also a fine restaurant and, after some discussion, we settle in for an unexpected meal.  Again, I go southwestern and order the house specialty: an open-faced bean, cheese, and salsa combo on a delicious "fry bread" which turns out to be a shell with a puff pastry-like doughiness.  And it's huge.  I ate till past full and still left about half on my plate.

(courtesy tripadvisor.com . . .  and truly amazing that my order is available for review on the internet!)

As a side note, the two southwestern meals had an impact on my system.  I'll spare the details but I did set a new personal record for "pit stops."  Not quite Montezuma's Revenge . . .  more like Montezuma's Prank.

Anyway, on to the park some  20 miles to the west . .  .

Down in the Canyon - Travel Day

lSunday morning, April 13th . . .  Sedona, AZ

Travelled yesterday from Bethel, VT to Lebanon, NH to Boston, MA to Phoenix, AZ to Sedona, AZ for a grand total of 14 hours.  Arrived at our simple but comfy motel at 11 PM local time, 2 AM body time.  When I mentioned to Liam that we used a car, bus, plane, bus (rental car shuttle at the PHX airport), and a car to accomplish all this, he noted that it was a palindrome and an example of a "mass scale."  When pressed for more thoughts about this, he explained that the vehicles first increased then decreased in mass.   Sometimes, he really uses that old noggin' . . . 

The Arizona scenery was muted by darkness last night though Beth and Liam insisted they could make out cactus whizzing by on the roadside; I was both skeptical and envious as the driver.  But this morning we woke up to a brilliant blue sky and a remarkable outcropping of rock whose perfectly horizontal layers suggest a rapid upheaval in the distant past. 

The image above is from the Great American Things website but captures Sedona in the foreground and the fantastic outcropping in the mid-ground. I'm just getting my bearings here but I'm pretty sure the outcropping shown here is what I'm seeing from our motel . . . I'll take some photos and compare later.

I wonder how often we will witness the ideas of deep time clashing with the local preference for Biblical insight into nature.  It seems counter-intuitive that residents of this testimony to deep-time natural history could, in such significant numbers, be convinced of an Earth that is no older than 6000 years.  

Then there's this . . . . as I went looking for a great Sedona image to share with you, I came across this image of the Holy Cross chapel:

I have no idea of the exact leanings of this partcular church, but the image of this structure, literally wedged into natural history and propped up on geology made me smile.