How Fully To See And Know The Grand Canyon Region Advantages of Camping Trips. The suggestions in this chapter are mainly for the strenuous and strong, though this by no means excludes members of the gentle sex. Many women and girls--some who have never before been on horseback--have made these extended trips, even those that have required weeks of rough camping. For detailed particulars of the scenery, those interested are referred to the various chapters devoted to the respective trails. The transportation department at El Tovar is under the control of competent men, and is thoroughly well equipped to send visitors on prolonged camping trips with everything needed for a week, a month, or six months. It is merely a question of time and meeting the necessary expense.
On the occasion of my last visit to El Tovar, a small party of both sexes was equipped and started out for a trip to last fully three weeks.
Reference to the chapter entitled "Across the Grand Canyon to Point Sublime," mainly written as her diary by an elderly lady, will give the ideas of a woman who had next to no previous experience of the hardships, as well as the immediate enjoyments of such a trip. But no one can estimate the continual source of delight and pleasure the memories of such a trip are to those who have resolutely faced and overcome the merely temporary discomforts entailed. The experiences with the burros, the surprises of the scenery, the exquisite delight of the perfect rest and dreamless sleep one enjoys, after the first few nights of novelty are worn off, the satisfaction of seeing and knowing much of the most sublime piece of natural scenery on earth, are compensations and satisfactions enough.
Down Bright Angel Trail. After one has gained the slight knowledge of the Canyon afforded by the easier trips described, let him plan to make the following as "a starter" in his more thorough investigation. With a good guide, pack animals carrying a full equipment of sleeping, cooking and eating necessities, plenty of water in canteens, one or two extra canvasses in case of rain, a note-book, and pencils or fountain pen, a compass and barometer for altitude readings, and the United States Geological Survey maps of the region, one is ready to make a "good start." Descend the Bright Angel Trail to the river, study the formations all the way down; get a clear idea of the relative positions of the strata, and learn to detect them by the individualistic appearances of wall, temple, butte, etc.; and examine the so-called cliff-dwellings hidden away in the Tonto sandstones before descending on the gneiss into Pipe Creek Canyon. Arrived at the river, spend a day there investigating the peculiar foldings and tiltings of the Algonkian strata. Sleep, as did Powell and his men for weeks, on the sands of the Colorado River, with the noise of the rapids ever in your ears. Breathe the pure air, and watch the solemn march of the stars.
Have you ever noticed how delicious the most ordinary food is, when cooked and eaten in the open air, after a day of reasonable exertion? Climbing, riding, and walking expand the lungs, and this means the absorption of immeasurably more oxygen. Weak stomachs, fickle appetites, dyspeptic symptoms, insomnia, blue devils and a score of the ills that human flesh is heir to, disappear before the floods of sunshine and oxygen that bathe the body, inside and out, of the man or woman who gladly accepts the outdoor life, even though only for a short time, in this Canyon region.
These philosophizings are aroused by the smell of bacon frying over the camp-fire, or the crack of a fine, mealy Arizona potato, roasting in the ashes, or a whiff from the coffee-pot, just about to topple over on the burning sticks. The fire is made of driftwood washed down possibly from some storm-swept region where a Mormon dwells with his numerous family; or, mayhap, from a forest where the elk of Wyoming still roam.
How real life in this Canyon now begins to be. It is opening up its secrets to us as we thus come into it. We are learning to love it, therefore it shows its heart to us. It no longer is a "thing" to be looked at; it is a real something, an individuality to love, to listen to, to question, to honor.
On the Tonto Trail. We are now ready to go over the old Tonto Trail the trail made centuries ago by mountain sheep, small bands of which are still to be found in the remoter corners of the Canyon--then followed by the Indians, whose moccasined feet made less impression upon it than did the hoofs of the sheep. And in the two or three decades just passed, a few white men trod it. Perhaps Powell, or some of his men, or Stanton, walked where we now walk, or ride, and surely some of those early mining prospectors of the Canyon--Ashurst, McClure, Marshall, Hance, Boucher, Berry, Brashear,--once went this way.
In and out of the recesses of the much carved walls, up and down the wavy ridges of the plateaus, sometimes descending into deep side gorges, we ride, our guide leading the way to the Grand View Trail, and our pack-mules and burros following, while we occupy the rear of the procession. We stop for noon lunch in one of the side canyons where is a spring of clear water.
We take off the packs from the animals, and let them nibble away at the rich grama and gallinas grasses that flourish here after the summer rains.
Comfortable and contented after our meal, we lie on our backs under the shelter of a juniper or a friendly cottonwood, or in the shade of an immense block fallen from some cracked wall above. Already we are becoming familiar with the strata, and can call each one by name. The red wall limestone, we find, is known to the guides and miners as the "blue lime,"owing to the fact that its capping stratum, where exposed, has a light blue color.
