See The Grand Canyon

By Kristy McCaffrey

View from the Bright Angel Trail at the South Rim of
the Grand Canyon. Photo Kristy McCaffrey.

“All the descriptions written over the decades land with a dull thud next to the real thing. It’s because the Canyon is overwhelming. It is so personal, yet a beauty beyond us—a far world, unknown, and unknowable.” ~ Arizona author Leo W. Banks

Arizona’s number one tourist attraction is the Grand Canyon, and it should come as no surprise that the state’s nickname is “the Grand Canyon State.”

Grand Canyon National Park is known for its overwhelming size and its intricate and colorful landscape. Over time, the elements have scoured and carved the dramatically splendid Grand Canyon, known as one of the world’s seven natural wonders. The distance from the South Rim to the North Rim varies from half a mile to eighteen miles, and the canyon has a maximum depth of 6,000 feet. This great range in elevation allows for a variety of climate, flora, and fauna; of the seven life zones on the North American continent, four can be experienced within Grand Canyon.

View from Grandview Trail at the South Rim of the Grand
Canyon. Photo Kristy McCaffrey.

The most prominent feature in the Grand Canyon, besides the deep gorges exposing millions of years of rock layers, lies at the bottom—the Colorado River. Named in 1776 by a Spanish missionary, Padre Francisco Tomás Garcés, it means “red” in Spanish, which is how the river would have appeared back then. Due to the construction of Glen Canyon Dam in northeastern Arizona in 1964, the river is now clear, clean, and cold.

The Colorado River as seen from the
Desert Watchtower at the South Rim
of the Grand Canyon.
Photo Kristy McCaffrey.

The first documented expedition of the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon was accomplished by Major John Wesley Powell in 1869. Powell, a Civil War veteran with only one arm, and nine companions became the first men to journey 1,000 miles on the river, part of it through Grand Canyon. They braved rapids, heat, plummeting morale, and the loss of three men. Powell’s account of this expedition, Exploration of the Colorado River of the West and Its Tributaries, made him a national hero as well as brought the canyon to the attention of the country. The Paiutes called the plateau that the canyon cuts through ”Kaibab” or “Mountain Lying Down,” but it was Powell who first consistently used and published the name “Grand Canyon” in the 1870’s.

Inside Desert Watchtower.
Photo Kristy McCaffrey.

My daughters inside Desert Watchtower.
Photo Kristy McCaffrey.

There are many options when visiting the Grand Canyon. The most popular location is the South Rim with many lodging choices, including campsites. These are booked one year in advance, so plan accordingly. (However, if you’re flexible you can sometimes find last-minute cancellations.) My favorite place is the El Tovar hotel, built in 1905. Be sure to grab lunch in the dining room (my favorite dish is the Traditional Navajo Taco). Learn more about where to stay here.

My daughters and a friend.
Photo Kristy McCaffrey.

Activities while at the South Rim include hiking (the famed Bright Angel Trail begins here—if you’re in good physical condition then consider a day-hike to Indian Gardens, a halfway point to the bottom of the Canyon; overnighting inside the Canyon requires a permit), bike rides, and many lookout points (Desert Watchtower and Hermit’s Rest are my favorites). People often ask about the Skywalk, a 10-foot wide, horseshoe-shaped glass bridge that extends 70 feet over the rim of the Canyon. It’s not accessible from the South Rim, but lies farther west and is more easily reached from Las Vegas. A bit of trivia: the walkway is actually built over a side canyon and not Grand Canyon, although the view is still spectacular.

My daughter Kate taking a photo on the Bright Angel Trail.
Photo Kristy McCaffrey.

My daughters at the start of the Bright Angel Trail. We
didn't get far before they were distracted with photo ops.
Photo Kristy McCaffrey.

My husband and daughter on Bright Angel Trail.
Photo Kristy McCaffrey.

You can also visit the North Rim during the summer months (the roads are closed during the winter). It’s more remote and more difficult to reach, but there are also less crowds. And the different views of the Canyon make it worthwhile (the North Rim is at a higher elevation than the South Rim). The Grand Canyon Lodge offers a perfect place to stay, but remember to book 12 months in advance. You can find more info here.

Me and my girls.
Photo Kristy McCaffrey.

Kate and Hannah commemorating their visit with a selfie.
Photo Kristy McCaffrey

We saw this magnificent bull elk grazing by the side of
the road as we were leaving the park.
Photo Kristy McCaffrey.

Hiking Grandview Trail in Grand Canyon

By Kristy McCaffrey



View from Grandview Trail

            Grand Canyon offers several access routes   from rim to river. Grandview Trail, from the South Rim, is one that’s been in use since 1890 when miner Pete Berry began working the Last Chance Mine. However, Hopi Indians gathered mineral paints in the area (Horseshoe Mesa) long before Berry arrived.

My dad on the icy switchbacks

            On a sunny and somewhat chilly March morning I set off to hike the trail with my dad and my husband. Day hikes in Grand Canyon don’t require a permit so we plan to trek as far as we can and turn around before the sun sets. Although I’ve hiked one of the main corridor trails—Bright Angel (during July no less and yes, it whipped my butt)—I’ve learned to never underestimate the Grand Canyon and Grandview Trail didn’t disappoint. The uppermost sections are steep, grueling switchbacks, and because long stretches were covered with ice and snow, very dangerous. One slip could lead to a tumble over the side. And it was a long way down. But my dad made sure we were well prepared with microspikes. Regrettably I left my walking poles in the car. They were missed.



Me on the trail

            We spend the next three hours dropping about 2500 feet in elevation. The scenery is breathtaking. I'm dumbfounded staring at the sheer cliff we descend, the trail all but invisible above us. We cling to the rocks like mountain goats, offering a strange satisfaction of having met the canyon on its own terms. But this sense of accomplishment will be short-lived.

My dad and I close to Horseshoe Mesa



My husband and I

            We make it as far as Horseshoe Mesa, a total of 3.2 miles. Several old copper mines are located in the area and the paths are fairly well-marked, along with signs warning of radiation. From my research I learn that excessive amounts of radon are present, so no spelunking inside the dark corridors. We hoped to continue out onto the Mesa and enjoy a view of the Colorado River, but it was now 1 p.m.—our designated turnaround time. We rest, eat lunch, and use the facilities (yes, there’s a toilet here). I remove as much clothing as I can since it’s much warmer than on the rim, but I still sweat more than anticipated for a winter hike.



Me hugging the cliffside

            The return traverse follows a fairly flat route until the switchbacks reappear like an annoying friend you wish to avoid. For over two hours I shuffle along with tiny steps, and though I exaggerate, I feel certain I’m going straight up the cliff. It doesn’t help that near the end, while at my most exhausted, the trail narrows with nothing but blue sky to offer a buffer. This is when I become afraid. The next 30-40 minutes are an exercise in controlling a panic that I would slip off the side and die. (I should mention that I suffer from vertigo.) I hunch over the trail, trying to counter the weight of my pack lest it throw me off balance. Tears threaten. My husband offers to carry my pack but I refuse. He’d done as much on that Bright Angel trek years before and I was determined to prove my mettle this time.



The end of our hike





            Staying focused on one step, then the next, and then the next, I hold the tight grip of panic at bay, desperate to get to the top and the hell out of here.

            Finally we’re done, back among the land of tourists snapping photos. I sink to the ground to remove my microspikes while silently paying homage to Grand Canyon. It always kicks butt. It’s silly to think it won’t. But this time I persevered, keeping my burgeoning fears at bay long enough to finish the hike. Perhaps Grand Canyon and I can become friends after all.