Phantom Ranch

PHANTOM RANCH BY CHARLES FRANKLIN PARKER AND JEANNE S. HUMBURG PHOTOGRAPHS BY VIRGIL GIPSON

Deep within the purple shadows of the world's greatest canyon lies a tiny oasis-a mere splash of green glimpsed from a single spot on the South Rim of the Grand Canyon of Arizona. Miles by trail away and fully one mile below into the mighty depths, the cottonwood grove seems infinitesimal and remote. Yet it enfolds its verdant bounds a paradise-an enchanted spot of sunshine and towering trees, a rushing mountain stream, a herd of deer -each inspiring a tranquility awesome as the heights of the jagged canyon walls rising high above. This is Phantom Ranch. It's a world in its own, far removed from the turmoil of our modern age, surrounded by a wild palette of vivid colors and among the most spectacular rock creations that nature has carved upon this earth. It is nature at her greatest and yet, too, at her weirdest, for the sheer existence of this green oasis within the very depths of the canyon is phantom in human understanding.

Science can explain the formation of this huge phenomena of canyon within canyon, gorge within gorge, lofty cliffs of brilliant rock and dark shadows. But it is purely with the heart and soul, given time to absorb the vastness and splendor, that the canyon becomes comprehensible, and the reality of the cottonwood grove understood.

What each person feels and sees depends on his temperament and artistic eye, but no where else has nature offered such an incontestable variance as she does to those who travel the trails to Phantom Ranch. In reaching this haven, the full splendor of Grand Canyon is revealed, in timeless miles of towering walls, rushing water in river and stream, dazzling sunshine and labyrinthian shadow, vivid color and arid somberness. Most important, there is the element of leisure and peace as the panorama unfolds, the same pace that opened up this wonderland to the pioneers of old. For you either walk or ride a mule down the trails, there's no other way to reach Phantom.

Before you can walk in under the lofty cottonwood trees that shelter the cabins and lodge of the ranch, the mighty canyon demands that you experience the full magnitude of her strength. There are no short cuts to reach this oasis, no quick methods to rush in and out and say you have been there. For in spite of one motorist who wired the El Tovar Hotel that he was arriving on a certain date to drive to Phantom Ranch, this is not a place touched by the modern wheels of civilization. It can only be reached by legs-either yours or a mule's.

Undoubtedly this is why the ranch seems so mysterious. It is well named Phantom, existing but unseen by most who pass along the canyon rim. From the shadow of its giant trees it gives shade and comfort to the weary summer traveler who descends the trails along the hot canyon walls. For the winter adventurer it offers warmth and shelter from the raw, bitter wind that whips through the gorge. And for the most fortunate of all who can pick either the spring or the fall for a vacation, the cottonwood grove spreads wide its arms in a rush of fresh color or rich autumn hues.

Only two trails will bring you to the ranch. Kaibab Trail traverses the canyon from rim to rim and crosses the Colorado river over a high suspended bridge just a short distance from Bright Angle Creek where the ranch is located. North Rim visitors use this trail to descend into the canyon, to Ribbon Falls and on to the ranch. Traditionally, the South Rim mule parties leave by Bright Angel Trail, the best known in any national park. From Indian Springs, far down this trail, the ranch riders orhikers travel on to the banks of the roaring river, then follow the curves of the inner gorge to meet Kaibab trail by the suspended bridge.

For both riders and hikers the approach to this span over the river is sensational. A black tunnel, cut through one hundred five feet of solid granite, leads directly onto the bridge, four hundred and forty feet of steel suspended sixty-five feet above the current, its network of cables and bars forming a lacy pathway to the opposite side. The feeling of height is acute looking down upon the brown churning water, the narrowed channel sending up a thunder of power.

But for the riders there is suddenly a new awareness of sound. It's the tread of the mules with a rhythmic sharpness, the clear staccato cadence of "On the Trail" from Ferde Grofe's Grand Canyon Suite. Always before the hoofbeats had been muffled by sand upon the trails, by the wind and the river, but here, on the asphalt-surfaced bridge high above the current that carved the canyon, the air reverberated with the musical beat.

By whichever trail or mode of travel, hiking or riding, you have time to absorb the canyon's greatness before the charm of Phantom Ranch is opened to you. The warmth of friendliness and comfort of every convenience are found here, plus delicious ranch meals. By the small corral where the riders dismount, the sign on an arch means what it says-Phantom Ranch Welcomes You. The swimming pool behind the nearby recreation room is a blessed sight to the hot summer guests who have dreamed about shade and cool water during the noontime hours.

Facing a wide parkway of grass, crossed by many small ditches of water that feed the cottonwood trees, are the cabins, modern in rustic garb. The lodge, with its huge dining room and ranch kitchen, is at the end of the parkway and welcomes a rush of hungry guests each time the call to meals is sounded. Behind one row of cabins flows Bright Angel Creek, a sparkling mountain stream that sings and echoes through the ranch and gives gay promise of the trout that are there for an eager fisherman.

The beauty and tranquility of this cottonwood grove have attracted visitors for many years. As early as 1903 Dave Rust of Kanab, Utah, established a tent camp there, the first to provide a stopping place for guests within the canyon's depths. President Theodore Roosevelt came in 1913, and for sometime afterwards the location was known as Camp Roosevelt. In the early days a suspended bridge, swaying alarmingly in the wind, spanned the Colorado river where the rigid bridge now stands, and pioneer travelers braved the narrow pathways to cross the canyon from rim to rim before the modern Kaibab trail was built.

Then Rust's camp was forgotten for a time, until 1921 when the Santa Fe-Fred Harvey interests took over the scenic spot and built Phantom Ranch, named for the mystery that surrounded a nearby side canyon the early Indians thought bewitched. The present development was urged by Mary Jane Colter, long associated with the tourist growth at the canyon in her role as interior decorator. Native rock was used in the structures, blending them into the canyon surroundings, and the backs of sturdy mules brought in everything else needed-all the furnishings, conveniences and luxuries. Daily mule pack trains still bring in all supplies for the ranch, the food for the bountiful meals, fuel oil for heat, laundry for the cabins and hay for the animals' overnight stays.

This is another treat in store for the ranch visitors-the arrival of the pack trains, or more impressive, meeting one on the trail. The mules are stretched out in fast stepping form, truly a red ball express carrying the necessities to guests at the lowest down ranch in the world.

Hours at the ranch, or better days if time will allow, bring endless memories, the splendor of the walls rising high over head, the play of shadow and sunlight as the day progresses, and at night the calm serenity broken only by the rushing stream.

From a slope of the canyon wall behind the ranch, where the Clear Creek trail begins its climb to the inner rim, there's a vista spot that brings the South Rim into view. At night the lights of the village and El Tovar Hotel gleam high on the wall-mute testimony of the distance one has traveled into the canyon, the proclaimed activity of many lights far removed from the miracle world in which one glories while looking up.

A walk to the shores of the Colorado River opens another spellbinding adventure with the full force of the rusty current rushing past. The clean, sandy banks rival the most famous beaches in the world, but their rippling dunes are studded with boulders of vast size, worn smooth by their tumblings through the river in flood seasons. Power of the river is evidenced in the steel and iron debris left upon the shores, old cooking ranges and girders, surrounded by huge timbers that have washed down from far distances.

High overhead is the suspended bridge and out in the current a massive rock rises 14 feet out of the river. This is the traditional water level gauge for those other than the most scientific, and when the water reaches to the top of the rock then the Colorado is really rolling.

At times, the minute figures of an incoming ranch party can be traced along the ribbon of trail high on the opposite wall. There's a cheery "hello" that rings across the river from the guide, and a fascination in watching the riders wend their way along the trail to disappear into the tunnel. Then comes their stately amble on to the bridge with the resounding hoofbeats of the mules heard faintly above the river's roar.

There always will be a reluctance to leave Phantom Ranch, no matter how many days or hours have been spent at this enchanted spot. But the trek homeward to the rim of the canyon offers new marvels in recompense. The mule parties return to the South Rim by Kaibab Trail and the first upward climb through the inner gorge is breath-taking, with the river and suspended bridge diminishing in size at an alarming speed. Then the breadth of Tonto Plateau is opened before one's eyes before the trail continues upward into the cedars with the rim looming near but still high above, its terraced wall a study in color. The trail tops out at Yaki Point and the canyon's depths have been left behind.

But one spot far back on the trail will be remembered with poignant clarity and a wistful smile. Panoramic View, with its breathless sweep of the canyon country-the deep purples of the inner gorge and North Rim's rugged outline, long will be recalled. Far below the river is a mere thread. Beyond it is the cottonwood grove. This is the final nostalgic glimpse of Phantom Ranch.