Wanderlust, Part II: The Grand Canyon

I know I said that next up was the Texas HIll Country, but I almost forgot about one of our most outrageous adventures that occurred between Europe and the Hill Country.  It's off to the American Southwest and the Grand Canyon!

Anyone who knows my man knows that he loves the outdoors.  You know how some people get cranky if they can't exercise or eat when they want to?  Jonathan gets cranky when he hasn't gotten to play outside for awhile.  And in particular, he adores hiking.  So when the first Spring Break of my graduate school years came up, he took it upon himself to plan our first backpacking trip together to the Grand Canyon.  After our European extravaganza, I figured I owed him a good manly trip, so I obliged.

The trip was in March, so I stocked up on hiking shorts and short-sleeved tops.  Little did I know that the afternoon of our departure, Jonathan had checked the weather and discovered that the worst blizzard of the year was headed straight for the Grand Canyon.  Knowing that I would chicken out, he did not tell me this teensy little bit of breaking news.  Instead, he packed extra cold weather gear for me--my ski parka, etc.--when I wasn't looking.  The little stinker.  

When we arrived and set up camp, he broke the news to me.  I wasn't too terribly worried; Jonathan spent all his bachelor days spending money on high quality backpacking gear, so our tent and sleeping bags were top notch.  But nothing could have prepared us for what was in store.  

Here we are, setting up camp.  A little chilly, but with no clue as to what was ahead...

That night, it was TWO DEGREES on the rim of the canyon.  TWO!!!  I have never been so cold in my entire life.  We awoke the next morning and prepared to hike into the canyon.  Before catching the bus to our entry point, we popped into the general store to buy crampons...you know, those little spikes that you strap onto the bottoms of your hiking boots to clamp onto the ice so that you don't fall to your death in the canyon below?  Yeah.  Those.  I was thrilled.  While we were there, I spotted a pair of North Face fleece gloves.  They were pricey, but I had a feeling that the little cotton Wal-Mart gloves Jonathan packed for me just weren't going to cut it.  We quickly realized that was one of the best decisions of our lives!  I don't know if I would have fingers today if I hadn't bought those gloves!  

As we rode the bus to our drop point, we noticed a group of fellow hikers.  A group of women, all over 70 years old, who had hiked the canyon together every year for the past twenty years.  Suddenly, I wasn't so nervous anymore.  And in we went!  

The blizzard hit just as we were descending into the canyon.  It was slightly terrifying, but mostly exhilarating, to work our way into this majestic marvel with the wind pounding at us from all directions and snow flying in our faces.  Within a couple of hours, the protection of the canyon's walls blocked us from the fierce weather, and the remainder of our descent was peaceful.  

(Crossing the Colorado River)

Once we arrived at our first camp at Phantom Ranch, we were notified by Park Rangers that the blizzard was so severe up top that all roads to the canyon had been shut down.  Since the temperature at the base of the canyon is a good 20 degrees warmer than the rim, we had descended just in time!  But that didn't mean we weren't still cold at night!  

The next day, we hiked across the base of the canyon to the opposite rim.  The day after that, we reversed back to our original camp site, and then we took two days to hike our way out of the canyon, stopping halfway to camp at Indian Gardens. 

I did not shower for six days.  I carried all of my own gear.  And I only cried once!  Quite the accomplishment, I must say!  ;)  

As we made our way out of the canyon, the snow got heavier and heavier.  It was a captivating site to see one of the world's wonders iced in glittering snow!

When we finally emerged at the rim, I experienced an incredible high!  The trailhead was at one of the major tourist viewpoints on the rim, and I fully expected everyone to stop, turn slowly, catch a glimpse of us weather-worn travelers, and begin the slow clap.  You know the one.  Like in the movies?  And of course that's when they'd start playing Jock Jams and I'd do my little victory dance and Rockyesque jog-and-punch.  

But they all just kept putting their little quarters in the giant binoculars, taking pictures, and doing their touristy thing.  No one cared.  Even Jonathan was ready to head for the car and hit the road.  

But not me.  I was oh-so proud of myself.  And I was going to commemorate that moment.  To this day, this is one of my favorite pictures of the two of us:  

We left the canyon and headed to Phoenix for a few days with friends.  They just so happened to live by an outlet mall, and we girls were going to hit it up.  Before leaving, I stopped Jonathan:

"Sweetie," I said in my most loving tone.  "You realize that not many wives would do what I just did for you, right?"

"I do realize that, Les.  Thanks"  said my darling husband.

"So you also realize that I'm going to go to the outlet mall right now and buy anything that I want, right?"

"Uh...right."  Said my sweet husband.  Because although it is often debatable, this time I was right!