Sand and Soil

The wind blew leaves and pine needles in my hair as we walked down the unmarked trail in Brown County State Park. Leaves crunched beneath our feet and I remembered the feel of red earth and rock beneath my feet just a few weeks ago. The trail was much steeper and more difficult then.

We were in the Grand Canyon in the first week of October and I wish I could go back - without my camera. I did not take my camera to Brown County yesterday. The beauty of an Indiana autumn has been seared into my memory and is impossible to forget. No, I wanted to go to Brown County so that I could experience the wind and the sunlight passing through the trees. We trekked across the crunchy turf with nothing on our backs, around our necks, or in our hands. I walked hoping to find serenity. Quietness was difficult to come by in the canyons. We took the Bright Angel Trail from the South Rim to the first rest house. There was so much foot traffic along the trail that it was impossible to celebrate a moment for too long for fear of impeding other travellers.

The Grand Canyon was not quite what I expected and yet it was everything I expected. We stayed in Williams along old Route 66 in an historic place called the Grand Canyon Hotel - the oldest hotel in Arizona. From there we drove about an hour to the Grand Canyon through the Coconino National Forest. Neither Alejandro or I expected to see so much pine/evergreen trees on our approach to the canyon. I guess we expected to be able to just drive there and see nothing but rock and dirt until we reached a cliff. Instead, we had to park the car and walk a bit through trees to the Rim Trail. It was a fantastic sight.

We walked along the Rim Trail and meandered in and out of some of the tourist attractions until we found the Bright Angel Trail. With my old 35 mm camera around my neck and my tiny digital lurking somewhere around my wrist, pocket, and backpack we started to descend down the rim into the bowels of the canyon. The path was steep and it was soiled - in a not so welcoming way. The mules that they use on guided trips would appear to become so scared of the descent that they frequently relieve themselves in the tightest and steepest spots. Since I just bought new hiking boots I wasn't really ready to explore the dung heaps just yet, but if you must you must.

After a short time my knees began to feel every foot to rock impact and forward motion was both easy and frightening. We stopped frequently to snap pictures on the way down - not so on the way back. The journey back to the rim was so steep and difficult that I did not care about photos. Alejandro took on some of my weight and we stopped at about every bend with a big rock for sitting. I found it amusing that everyone coming down the trail, no matter what language they were speaking, seemed all smiles until they saw my foreboding, tense, and beet red face. Those of us going back up the trail were sucking the thin air and congregating with much sympathy for each other at every stopping point hoping that we would not give into the dizziness and hurl ourselves off the edge. Serenity was not tops on my list of feelings and sensations.

When we conquered the rim I expected to hear cheers and clapping for some idiotic reason, but the Irish, German, and Asian accents did not reveal any well wishes. We sat, ate trailmix, walked back along the rim and revisited the most photogenic tarantula in the Grand Canyon.

I want to go again. I won't take both of my cameras and might not take either one. I just want to hike further and faster. I want to get all the way down the canyon and maybe cross to the North Rim. I want to raft down the Colorado.

But, until then, I think I can be content with Indiana forest trails. They're not as steep, but if I go fast enough I will break a sweat. They are certainly alot quieter.