Fugitive from a Fred Harvey Mule

If you've never sauntered through five climate zones in a few hours; or if you've never stood on the banks of a river that transports a million tons of sand, silt, and gravel past any given point every twenty-four hours, the chances are that you'll find hiking across Grand Canyon an experience of a life time. The more conservative, of course, may prefer to navigate the twenty-odd tempestuous miles via one of Fred Harvey's mules; but that's like smothering the finest filet mignon with catsup and mayonnaise, especially if the vacationer is between fourteen and fifty and if his pulse still quickens when the flowers bloom in the spring.There's something about descending into that magnificent whirlpool of color that stops the hands of time and for a moment blots out wars, radio commercials, and automobiles; for a moment it seems as though the hiker has caught a glimpse of eternity, as though he has seen the universe; as though he is as ageless as the pharoahs, just as the great canyon is ageless.

This invitation to adventure and rendezvous with nature on a trail that cost $770,000 isn't limited to the rich or the gifted, or to those who are endowed with great physical prowess; it is at the fingertips of any trail enthusiast who has the sense to plan a rugged hike carefully. Many treks in the Southwest are more difficult, dangerous, and exhausting; but there is no journey on foot that could equal a walk through one of the seven natural wonders of the world. Over-confidence and carelessness are probably the greatest enemies that the hiker faces as he prepares to travel along the precipitous colored cliffs and among the crags where eagles protect their nests.

One of the remarkable aspects of the cross-canyon jaunt is its variety of appeals; here is a sanctuary for many species of outdoorsman as well as the hiker. Amateur geologists, botanists, dauntless fishermen, and avid shutter-clickers are among those who find Grand Canyon a mecca. Then teen-agers of all shapes and sizes somehowfind the canyon trek to be a match for their energy. With all respect to Fred Harvey's mules, there is no question that sightseers can drink in the scenery more effectively and visit spots otherwise unavailable by traveling on foot.

Sojourners must remember, however, that Grand Canyon is like a great, savage beast. If the hiker treats it with proper respect and caution, it will not destroy him. On the other hand, if he carelessly disregards warning signs and steps too close to the edge, the National Park Service may need several days to re-assemble the fragments of his body after it has been scattered over a few dozen acres. While the unwary who venture into the canyon usually do not suffer such a violent fate, it is a fact that often some foolhardy visitor over-estimates his ability or underestimates the vastness of the great mile-deep chasm and is compelled to call for help. This process is simple, albeit a little embarrassing, if the stranded is near an emergency telephone on Bright Angel Trail. One of Fred Harvey's mules for a fee-canters down to get him. But if he is not near a phone and finds no fellow wayfarers, prospects look considerably worse. The best bet under the circumstances is to sit tight, particularly after dark, and under no conditions to leave the trail.

For the first trek, at least, the trans-canyon walker should acquire a hiking companion and traverse the miracle of nature from the North to the South Rim. The starting point in this case would be about 8000 feet elevation, or about 1000 feet higher than the South Rim. Obviously, it is better to hike as little uphill as possible. Another fragment of wisdom is to count on two days for the trip. It can be done in one, but if the hiker is too hasty he either runs out of foot plasters and energy or misses many of the glories of the undertaking that make it an unforgettable experience.

Added suggestions include:

Unless the hiker plans to use the public camp ground near the Colorado River, he must phone for a reservation at Phantom Ranch in the bottom of the canyon so that he may stay overnight there. The dude ranch has a sparkling swimming pool as well as excellent food.

He should wear sturdy but not too heavy hiking shoes or boots.

He should travel as light as possible, because even a toothbrush becomes unbearably heavy when he climbs out the other side of the canyon.

5. If piscatorially inclined, he should bring along a fly rod to fish Bright Angel Creek, where trout are healthy but not too educated; or to cast into the Colorado where a mess of palatable catfish can be collected in a few minutes. Of course, an Arizona fishing license is needed.

6. The hiker should carry salt tablets, water, band aids, and foot plaster. If he doesn't need them, he'll probably meet someone who will.

Bidding good-bye to Grand Canyon Lodge on the North Rim early in the morning, and feeling something like Admiral Byrd and the late Martin Johnson, the hiker heads down Kaibab Trail. It winds snake-like through quaking aspen, pine, and firs, for at this point he is in the climate zone of the Canadian forests. By the time the wayfarer reaches the bottom he has encountered four more such zones, each with its own plant and animal life. The last one is comparable to the Sonoran deserts of Mexico, and the temperature has increased accordingly.

Shortly after the journey has started the trail enters Bright Angel Canyon at the mouth of Manzanita Creek. At 4.75 miles is breath-taking Roaring Springs, which gushes from beneath the limestone. Almost anywhere along the trail on the long lap to the Colorado River the ardent fisherman can stop to try his luck in the foamflecked Bright Angel Creek. An excellent stopping point is Cottonwood Camp, a trail maintenance station operated by the watchful and efficient National Park Service. When the hiker reaches Cottonwood, he has lost about 5000 feet in elevation in a breathtakingly short space of time, and he finds that the temperature has risen roughly thirty-five degrees. Here some of the uninitiated strip to the waist; and, unless they already have a good tan, novices are likely to burn to a crisp in no time at all. Ribbon Falls is nine miles from the start of Kaibab on the North Rim and provides not only a sight of great beauty but also an excellent opportunity for the fas-tidious to wash off the trail dust-if they can stand the ice water of the falls.

Four more miles-or a total of thirteen for the daybrings the wayfarer to Phantom Ranch, where supper is served at six. It is roughly a half mile more to the Colorado, and after a hearty meal and a swim in the dream-like pool at the dude ranch, the adventurer mav want to wander down to the banks of the great river. It is four hundred feet across, although from the vicinity of the deluxe hotels on the rim a mile above it appears to be a tiny brown ribbon. Wandering along the shores in the moonlight as the walls of the Inner Gorge rise fifteen hundred feet overhead is like living in a lost world. The sojourner in the bottom of the canyon needs only a little romance in his soul to want to reach out and touch the stars.

Incidentally, it is in the bottom of the canyon where the so-called "pink" rattlesnakes live. They are comparatively rare, but Chief Naturalist Louis Schellbach has some subdued specimens on the South Rim. Even though rattlers do not seem numerous along the trail that cost almost a million dollars, travelers should obviously be alert for them.

After a good night's sleep at Phantom or at the public camp ground near the Colorado, the hiker should weigh the final and more arduous lap of his journey with caution. The climb out of the canyon should be made early in the morning or fairly late in the afternoon to avoid the heat. Then there is a choice of trails. The Kaibab transports the hardy in 6.5 miles to the top, but the path is steep and void of conveniences. Those who cross the river and walk 2.8 miles downstream, however, can travel the Bright Angel Trail, which is 7.8 miles to the rim from the bottom of the canyon. On this route there are an occasional supply of water, rest houses, and emergency telephones. The Bright Angel is the best bet for the hiker on his first hike across the canyon.

One of the unexpected wonders on the bottom as the wayfarer prepares to cross the Colorado is the steel suspension bridge-four hundred and forty feet long-which was one of the most expensive items in the construction of Kaibab Trail. A miracle of modern engineering in surroundings so wild that they seem to carry back the sightseer a million years, the bridge required fifty-five men to carry by hand each of the steel cables the miles down the steep trail from the South Rim.

If the temperature is reasonably cool, the climb out of the canyon will provide the hiker a continuation of his enjoyment of nature and of the vast, painted buttes and cliffs. He must remember to travel slowly and conserve his strength, because even the comparatively "easy" Bright Angel Trail will leave the average traveler ready to be stretched out on white velvet, or willing to call for a Fred Harvey mule, if he is foolish. The interesting signs along the path which describe fossils and rock formations will provide welcome diversion. Along Bright Angel Trail, Indian Gardens will be the most comfortable stopping point; there are water, shade, and even picnic tables. As the perspiring wayfarer struggles upward toward the resort hotels which complacently survey him, the "Gardens" will seem more and more like a Garden of Eden that never should have been abandoned. The hiker's imagination will be torn between plans of returning there to begin permanent residence and plans for consuming tall, cool, liquid concoctions at El Tovar Hotel or Bright Angel Lodge when-and if he ever reaches the trail's end. An unexpected obstacle on the last leg of the journey, by the way, may be pack and "dude" trains of Fred Harvey's mules descending with either less ambitious guests or with supplies and mail for Phantom Ranch and the trail stations.

When the hiker does bravely clamber out of the canyon at last, however, all his previous problems fade away. He feels as though he should have been greeted by the mayor. Then it may take a little while before he decides not to track down the author of this article, or hire a rickshaw crew to transport him just across the street back home; but eventually the dusty and tired traveler will decide that in all the world there is no trek as challenging, as poetic, as full of contrasts and miracles of nature, as crossing Grand Canyon on foot.

Yours Sincerely

STASH YOUR TRASH: ... A letter in the March issue of ARIZONA HIGHWAYS deserves an answer. I am referring to Mr. Adam H. Hodgson's complaint and question-"Can't something be done to do away with litterbugs? A few of the anti-litter efforts are listed below to inform Mr. Hodgson that the problem is receiving attention with various groups in many communities working to correct the condition in this state.

In Sedona, all of the service stations have available trash bags stamped-Are you game to bag your trash? Thank you friends. These are supplied by the Sedona Garden Club and can be had for the asking. That is just one of the many anti-litter projects of the Club.

The Flagstaff Junior Chamber of Commerce supplies the Agricultural checking stations with large trash bags to distribute to all cars inspected at the border entries. These warn tourists of the new State Anti-litter Law and the penalties for violating same.

Garden Clubs in other districts, Tucson, Phoenix, Prescott to name a few, are joining the campaign to discourage the thoughtless and we hope the movement will interest other groups throughout the state.

The litterbug has been with us for years and cannot be eliminated overnight. We are working in the schools, in our newspapers, magazines and air waves to educate the public in the need for keeping our roadsides litterfree.In Sedona the by-word is Stash your trash, We hope others will heed our plea and the desired result will be to Keep Arizona Beautiful.

Mrs. W. K. Roberts Chairman, Anti-litter Committee Sedona Garden Club Sedona, Arizona

PHOENIX, I LOVE YOU: ... Your "Phoenix, I Love Issue" is something we have long been waiting for. Our family has been receiving your magazine now for years and each issue has added toour desire to move to your state. We know a lot more about Phoenix than ever before and in the not too-distant future we hope to be among your new pioneers. You make Phoenix sound very attractive.

F. A. Harrat Harrisburg, Pennsylvania I have read your issue on Phoenix, City in the Sun with great interest. I have never been to Phoenix, but have heard many glow-ing reports about the community and espe-cially your wonderful winter climate. How-ever, I am just a little bit worried about your summers. Are they endurable?

Mrs. Hattie Sumner Cleveland, Ohio Your Phoenix issue was wonderful. Now when are we going to have a Tucson issue? The Tucson story has long been overdue.

Charles C. Thomas Rochester, New York Phoenix here we come! Your April issue answered a lot of questions but as time goes by (we do not plan to move for about a year) there will be others. Could you recommend other sources for such information? B. L. Billington Seattle, Washington

OPPOSITE PAGE

"AUTUMN SCENE-NORTH CANYON; EAST RIM OF KAIBAB" BY CHARLES NIEHUIS. It was a clear crisp day in fall. The Kaibab Forest was wearing its gayest gown of gold. The photographer had planned a trip to North Canyon, on the east side of the Kaibab, when he came upon this scene. 4x5 Speed Graphic, Ektar lens, Ektachrome film, f.20 at 1/5th second exposure, no filter.

BACK COVER

"MOONEY FALLS" BY RAY MANLEY. These falls are found in Havasupai Canyon. This picture must be made within about 30 days of the period when the sun is farthest north, that is about June 21st. A high cliff shades the falls later or earlier than during this two month period and to get sunlight to fall on the rock where the two people stand required shooting at about 2:00 P.M., the latest one could wait for the purpose of getting front light on the falls and cliff. Within five minutes of the snapping of this picture, the rock fell into shadow. Camera was carried down through tunnel and on spike studded trail to canyon's bottom. 5x7 Deardorff, 5" wide field Ektar, 1/25 second f.22 on Anscochrome.

FULFILLMENT I took the summer in my hands, I grasped the lilac and the may; And now the year forever stands Perfected in complete array.

A promise honored now is spring. Autumn the fruit that blossoms bear; And winter's ice and snow but bring The rote of seasons, not despair.

BLACK CAT Black as the well Where Truth is said to dwell, Soft as a cloud That makes the night wind's shroud, Thistledown fluff Light as a silken puff Is the aging JetA Persian silhouette.

Featureless here, He sleeps, then twitches an ear; Now he opens his eyes.. And, a naked flame, Life lies Burning twin holes Like glowing sunset coals Or copper, hot, Fresh spilled from the smelter's pore.

I WILL RETURN I will return: My heart is caught High in the branches Of a golden aspen On the mountain slope. My dreams are pinned Tight to that distant Star, tangled in the boughs Of the tallest pine.

I will return To desert drum-beat, To mountain thunder, To rush of wind, And starlit silence, To sunlit spaces, To velvet snowfalls, And flaming sunsets Searing cobalt sky.

I will return For this is my land: The peaks, the valleys, The desert, the canyons All echo-return!

NO LAZY RIVERS WEST We have no rivers as I knew at home, This west is not a mother to her streams, These waters have no time to slow and roam To satisfy the languor in their dreams; From mountain watersheds they are allowed A jagged crevice, narrow as a moat, In which to reach the desert from a cloud Along a way that would destroy a boat: Trees follow, but they risk their very lives To pause and drink beside the rushing force Of streams that leap in acrobatic dives, Each waterfall a silver, plunging horse: Few western rivers wander on their way, None are as lazy as a mile-a-day.