Hike of the Month

HIKE OF THE MONTH Discover a Spectacular Trek on the North Rim's Uncle Jim Trail

Sometimes, truth be told, it rains. Even in aridly beautiful spots in Arizona. Even at the glorious sun-soaked Grand Canyon. Even when a couple of friends are about halfway into an exhilarating hike on one of the most spectacular trails on the Canyon's North Rim. What to do? Appreciate the brief showers for what they are - a life-sustaining necessity - and then get ready to savor the incomparable splendor of the great Canyon in the fresh-washed, rainbow-hued aftermath of a storm.

Such was the pleasure photographer David Elms and I experienced when our July afternoon hike on the five-mile (round-trip) Uncle Jim Trail was livened by an uninvited, but ultimately rewarding, thunderstorm.

WHEN YOU GO

To reach the North Rim of the Grand Canyon, drive north 111 miles from Flagstaff on U.S. Route 89 to its intersection with U.S. 89A. Travel west 55 miles on U.S. 89A to Jacob Lake and then south 45 miles on State Route 67 to Grand Canyon Lodge. Because of heavy snowfalls, the North Rim is closed from mid-October or November to about mid-May. Camping is available at the North Rim Campground; call toll-free (800) 365-CAMP for reservations. Cabin and motel accommodations are available at Grand Canyon Lodge; for reservations, call (801) 586-7686. Hikers should watch the weather and avoid high exposed terrain and tall trees in the event of lightning.

Skies over the North Rim were iffy when David and I set out from the well-marked trailhead two miles north of Grand Canyon Lodge. We'd spent several days sampling other cool wildflower-strewn trails along the 8,200foot-high North Rim without enduring so much as a sprinkle. We felt the weather gods were with us never mind the gray clouds scudding over the gently graded Uncle Jim Trail as we began our hike. The trail, named for James "Uncle Jim" Owens, who served as the Grand Canyon Game Reserve's first warden, skirts the edge of Roaring Springs Canyon and winds northeast through a dense fir-and-aspen forest on a route shared with the Ken Patrick Trail.

About a mile into the hike, the trails split with a sign showing the Uncle Jim Trail branching to the right. Roughly a quarter-mile from this junction, the trail splits again into two forks. Both routes lead to 8,244-foot Uncle Jim Point, which overlooks the Canyon and the upper reaches of the North Kaibab Trail. For diversity of scenery, many hikers walk to the point on one stretch of the loop and return on the other. Scarlet penstemon, Indian paintbrush, and two browsing deer kept David and me so busy looking here and there that we barely noticed a little meteorological development as we approached Uncle Jim Point: the pitter-patter of intermittent raindrops.

Two minutes later, alas, the pitter-patter was more on the order of plop-plop-plop-plop. By the time we reached a clearing where tourists tie up their mule mounts, it was raining. And pretty steadily. David and I, who had experienced similar little surprises in our years of hiking, were well equipped with rain jackets and ponchos, beneath which we briefly took shelter. But then I spotted a prominent slab of rock with a made-to-order rooflike overhang jutting 15 feet out from the rock face and offering complete protection from the rain.

We took refuge under this perfect natural umbrella, munched nuts and fruit, and watched a storm cell sweep through the Canyon below us. High and dry, we could enjoy the low rumbles of thunder and distant flashes of lightning as the storm moved downcanyon to sprinkle on somebody else's outing. Then came the big rewards from the little bit of dampness. Everything green was greener. Ponderosa pines, shrub oaks, manzanitas, and cliff rose along the Rim took on the scrubbedclean look and perfumed smell of high-country forests in the wake of rain. The towers, temples, and buttes of the Inner Canyon, which are splendorous even on hot and dry days, now seemed to practically throb with color and texture. The incomparable post-storm light of the southwestern Canyon country bathed Uncle Jim Point, and our smiling faces, in the warm glow of renewal. Let it rain.