On Friday, Laura called me,
"Hey, do you want to hike Havasupai next weekend?"
I've been working on being spontaneous, so I said, "Yeah, for sure!"
I didn't say what I was thinking which was, "Where's Havasupai?"
It is, in fact, at the bottom of the Grand Canyon: a 10 hour drive and a 10 mile hike. I borrowed from my adventurous friends a backpacking frame, sleeping bag, headlamp, chacos, fleece jacket, water bottles. The next Thursday afternoon, I packed Grammy's (practically vintage) orange pack with top ramen, cliff bars, pringles and my gear, strapped on my sleeping bag and met the other seven who were already packing their bags into the back of an SUV, like a giant game of tetris.
We took 4 days: two of driving, two halves of hiking and one glorious day playing and exploring in the beautiful waterfalls of the canyon.
Road trips are a creature unto themselves. We were quite cozy in that little white car, but we knew from the start we'd be best friends by the end, so we dispensed with formalities and sprawled across each others laps, feet up on the seats, and passed around the pretzels.
The hike itself was beautiful. The canyon, like God's enormous lego set, was stacked rocks to the sky. We stopped, frequently, to snap picture and climb the rocks and walls- more than once I wished I had brought a climbing harness.
And then, we heard the water. It was getting late in the afternoon when we saw the first streamlet, but we knew that just around the river bend... and someone started singing Pocahontas. We hiked up over a bluff and saw the new falls where Navajo falls had been washed out in the last flood.
I have never seen water so beautiful or so blue-green. It looked like an advertisement for Cancun, not some obscure river in the middle of the desert.
We camped that night after a quick swim in the twilight shadows of Havasu Falls. We boiled the fresh water that ran so perfectly blue and clear, and made spaghetti for dinner. We sat up late talking and enjoying our newly made friendships, then unrolled our sleeping bags and slept under the stars.
The next morning, after pancakes, oatmeal, hot chocolate and trail mix, we hiked on to the next falls. The day was warm-- nearly 80°, with just enough wind to keep us cool as we hiked in the sun.
Moony falls drop a spectacular 200 feet, so we inflated the plastic dolphin James brought and sent it down the river and over the edge. It shot down the falls and then bobbed up in the artificial pool beneath Moony to the applause of all the onlookers. We climbed up the rock face and jumped into the cool water- swimming around we shivered and laughed and no one remembered that it was cold and rainy back home.
But it was beginning to get late. We knew the hike out would take several hours, so we began our trek back out of the Grand Canyon.
About half way out, the canyon opens wide to a rocky meadow, and there we stopped to pass around the fruit snacks and gatorade. It was dark by now, and we all sat back on our packs, turned off our lights and watched the wide sky fill with stars as our eyes adjusted to the black. We lay there for some time, chatting and wishing on shooting stars. Sitting there, resting my tired feet, I wanted to soak in this land, this beautiful red rock and sage brush. And then I realized that this western beauty had finally become my home. And I loved it.
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