We are off. The skies are a tad grey, but it is still a good day for a drive to the Grand Canyon. The tank is full. The shades are on. The wind is cool and flowing. And there's a blue frosty drink in the cup holder courtesy of the Circle K.
We barely left Sedona where we came across a bridged canyon. The bridge is called Midgley Bridgely (I kid you not). We took a brief trip to Huckaby Trail. It was breathtaking. And this is the start of the trail.
About half an hour until our destination. We were driving through the desert plains, spotting the random car or trailer off the road in the middle of the plains as if to stake a claim. Weird. Just heard on the radio that Arizona is smoke free. Ironic considering that we passed by a controlled forest fire. It occurred to me that we are in the same long, narrow road that I saw from 10,000 ft in the air. It puts things in perspective. I'm searching for the same plane that gave us that tour yesterday.
Hard to see the river from here. To think that a river did this. Past tense, sadly. Both of us are grateful for the sunglasses. They remove glare and add true color. hammercock is snapping shots like mad.
1.5 mils down the Bright Angel Trail. We are outside one of four stopping points. The next one is in another 1.5 miles. It would be tempting except for the fact that we descended 1,000 ft during out hike. Hammercock is adamant about going further considering the return hike. Never argue with someone who scaled the Outback. We both agree that the view is spectacular. The guide states that one sandwich and one bottle of water per stopping point.
The trail itself is full of fresh mule tracks and fresh mule poo. The culprits passed us in 2 tour groups of several mules each. I can tell the bored looks in the mules' eyes. As we descend, the white sandstone bleeds into red limestone. We're taking small samples. Actually, my pants are covered in red dust with my shoes resembling those worn by Indiana Jones. I hear Spanish, French, Japanese, Chinese, Dutch, and the occasional Australian slang. I've seen license plates from Manitoba and Alberta. And I just said, "Hello" to a woman with a NY Mets cap and the Israeli flag tattooed on her right arm. It's a world wonder that the entire world must see at least once.
Either way, as we prep for our return, the hikers with ski poles suddenly don't look silly. The goal is to make it back before sunset at 7pm. We resume after hammercock returns from the restroom/outhouse. Brave redhead.
Yavapai Point. We have conquered 1.5 miles of Grand Canyon and are watching the sunset. Prior to that, we witnessed Grand Canyon sparkling red wine, the ability not to purchase anything at the gift shop, a Mexican license plate, and a license plate from British Columbia. We had a hard boiled egg in which hammercock classically squished the white through her teeth. Married life hasn't tamed her. (Thank goodness!) They were right--the colors do change as the sun goes down. Too bad the tourists are spoiling the tranquility. Time to shoot some parents. See hammercock's entry about the father who was more annoying than the screaming kid he was calming down.
I wish the cloud cover wasn't covering the sun, but watching the sunset in Arizona beats Key West and Tatooine. We have even more pictures. The temperature dropped to 50 degrees. Between my Serenity T-shirt, green scarf, leather trenchcoat, and straw hat, I look like a young reject from Tom Baker's "Doctor Who".
Thank goodness for Veuve Clicquot Ponsardin champagne and "Real Sex" HBO series. We left the observation station to drive to Cameron. Pitch black. Few to no street signs. A car traveling 10 miles below the speed limit in front of us. It's how I envision hell. However, we did come across a couple of adult, male deer on the side of the road. We made it to the Cameron Trading Post which is a sizeable post. Ignore what I previously said about being no such thing as the middle of nowhere. There is a gift shop, post office, motel, and diner in the middle of nowhere. We need to find gifts for jbsegal, kimberlogic, and my mom. We seem to need to get gifts for a lot of people. Our wedding was due to the generosity of our community. I will be damned if such generosity should be unrecognized and unrewarded.
We ate there. After a long hike, I ordered a lot. The pork dinner reminded me of the Swanson turkey meal. It was all about the Navajo fry bread. We are currently debauching with some good champagne.