North Rim Grand Canyon

We were surprised by the absolutely packed day use parking area when we arrived at the North Rim of the Grand Canyon on the afternoon of the great Fourth of July holiday. 

The contrast between this sardine-like humanity and our isolated boondock in the Kaibab National  Forest could not have been more pronounced. We ditched our original plan to walk to the rim for a first quick look and decided instead to retreat immediately a mile up the road to the campground. The entry fee to the North Rim is $35 per vehicle but is free to seniors with the  Senior Pass - us! Yay! 

Our campground reservation, made previously on the recreation.gov app  cost us a mere $9 a night. A total bargain. For younger folks each site costs $18 which is still not bad. We got to empty our toilet and load our thirty gallon water tank to the brim…

…and dump our trash all for free. The sites are well spaced and beautifully shaded. Water restrictions have closed the showers and laundry services but there are water faucets scattered around for the many tent campers and the toilet blocks are immaculate. The park interestingly requires all vehicles to park in the same direction in case of a sudden emergency evacuation… but we had a totally peaceful fourth with no drama. 

I also chose to fill our half empty gas tank at the sole park concession gas station. Outside the park they were charging around $6:35 for a gallon of regular so $5:25 seemed a good deal. $74 for 14 gallons. Plus I had to pump my own fuel and wash my own windshield.  I miss Mexico - four bucks a gallon and always full service. Oh well. 

After all that we settled in. Rusty loves walking campgrounds and RV parks chasing other dogs smells with no dogs actually in sight. So I walked the campground a lot! I liked the place and even though the camping was supposed to be full it was very quiet and serene. 

The high temperature at 8500 feet was around 75 and the overnight low was around 60.  There were no bugs and we were quite comfortable. We celebrated with Trader Joe’s marinated beef tips and Marie Callender’s dreadfully delicious Mac and Cheese. We had a similar meal our first Thanksgiving in the van in Olustee National Forest in north Florida at one of our early off road boondocks. Layne kindly indulged me and we toasted better times for the country with some red wine. This was before we heard about the mass murder at a Fourth of July parade in Chicago. Sigh. We are so lucky on the road. 

We got up at five and drove out to the parking lot. This was when we realized that many of the cars must belong to people staying at the lodge and the many associated cabins because the lot was still full! I liked the sign helpfully pointing us to the nearby Biggest Hole in the World. It was pretty obvious. 

I don’t know that anything need be said about the Grand Canyon. It is a cliché to photograph, yet in person  it is astounding still, forty years after I first saw it and every time I have visited either rim it makes CV me think. You can’t take dogs down the trail and clouds were obscuring the glorious sunlight I had hoped for. I made some pictures at the rim but naturally  did no justice to the place. You need to see it for yourself and have your breath taken away. It never gets old.

Imagine waking up and stepping out to this. 

I first saw the Grand Canyon in July 1981 as I rode my Vespa P200 across country. I was 23 and my head was full of the National Geographic pictures of places to see across America. I rode up to the South Rim, paused for a little while at the gate and was assigned a camp spot as someone else left. 1981 was a much less structured time. 

I couldn’t get a permit to camp inside the canyon so I did the unthinkable. I got up before dawn and walked down the South Kaibab trail to the canyon floor. Then I walked the Colorado River trail to the Bright Angel Trail and staggered back up to the rim with much panting and many pauses. I got to the top before dark and collapsed at the bar where a couple of gins and tonic revived me.

I have since then rested on my laurels and not hiked the canyon again. That long walk was enough for a lifetime. 

One slightly odd feature of the canyon is that the rim is at a far higher altitude than the river obviously but the effect reverses the temperature of your hike. Walk down a mile and the temperature goes up the deeper you go. Then when you return to the surface you’re eight thousand feet up and your camp is freezing cold. 

After we walked back to the van we got ourselves in order and drove away. That was that. I doubt I will see the canyon again so I had one more reminder how time is passing so quickly. 

The drive out was pretty easy as it was 6:30 and there wasn’t much traffic. I had to pull over a couple of times to let faster cars pass as they couldn’t seem to handle passing zones. 

Spot the chipmunk playing with the empty boxes: 

Cabins for rent:

Kaibab plateau meadow. Don’t drive on the grass you idiots. There are signs everywhere! 

Burned Forest growing back:

The junction of Highway 89A and State Highway 67. Expensive gas and a place to pay to camp. 

Fry bread. We will have opportunities later. 

Heading down the mountain to the desert floor: 

Back towards Marble Canyon where I planned to buy a hot shower. Then we discovered a thousand young people preparing to raft the river clogging the facilities. Rats! Foiled again!   

Next stop was the Navajo National Monument on our way to the infamous Monument Valley which we had neither of us previously seen. 

Oh and trying not to get lost in the Navajo Nation back country, and there’s a lot of it. 

Kaibab National Forest

As I write this I’m sitting in my camp chair on a 60 degree morning at 8500 feet above sea level. GANNET2 is parked in an aspen grove less than half a mile from the paved state highway 67 that leads to the North Rim of the Grand Canyon. 

National Forest Road 22 swings in an arc around our campsite between the trees and from time to time we hear the distinctive rattle of machinery on gravel as the quads, Jeeps, travel trailers and RVs pass by, unobtrusively to someplace else. It’s the only human sound we can hear. 

We are hardly intrepid explorers or by pioneers. I have just finished my first cup of tea. Rusty had his breakfast and a bowl of stale milk which I have discovered he loves and which to save waste I offer to him as it becomes available. 

The wind at this altitude makes the aspen leaves shiver and they reflect sunshine like glass, sparkles of light shake up the shadows as the sound of the rushing wind intensifies overhead. Layne is asleep. The internet is asleep too, as we have finally outpaced connectivity.

This place is full of birds. Their song fills the glade and in the distance the woodpeckers are hard at work hammering. Summers are short at this altitude and snow stops play at the North Rim around mid October I believe. I would look it up but I have no internet. 

The highway winds it’s way through pine forests, passing campgrounds, hotels, lodges and gas stations (nearly $7 for a gallon of regular for improvident virgins seeking oil) but no permanent settlements. The road signs warn that snowmobiles aren’t permitted on the paved highway and none of these roads are plowed in winter. 

There’s a long stretch leveled by a forest fire long enough ago to have allowed small aspen to start replacing the lost pine trees. The windy desolation doesn’t encourage stopping. 

My plan was to find dispersed camping a short way before the National Park boundary and Forest Service Road 22 bisects State Highway 67 at just the right spot, half an hour before the park entrance. 

If you can’t find a free camp spot on the Kaibab Plateau you might want to find a less stressful way to travel. This area is cross crossed by dirt roads and all you have to do is choose one and stop where you see tire tracks and most likely a (disused) fire ring.  Park and you are home. 

This isn’t the Mongolian Steppe and if you are seeking total isolation and apartness from humanity you will have to drive a long way into the absolute wilderness. This is camping territory, tents, vans, off-roaders, hikers all are welcome in one form or another. However we are alone in the silence as much as we need to be. There are no other campers within sight or sound of GANNET2’s anchorage:

Nighttime temperatures fall below 60 degrees and daytime highs may reach 75 so you might call this perfect. There are insects showing some sign of life happily but mosquitoes no-see-‘ums and flies are nowhere to be felt. 

The solar panels are generating  electricity despite our wooded parking spot and there is enough sunshine during the midday to keep us warm. It is idyllic. 

Rusty sleeps in the grass and wanders from spot to spot finding the sun as he goes. You can spot his head from time to time sniffing the air as something intrigued him. 

“Do you suppose we should have bear spray?” I asked the quartermaster at one point. 

“Probably,” she said. We went back to our books. Perhaps an expertly wielded fire extinguisher will fill the need if panic arises. 

Yes, I expect there are many fearsome things waiting to murder or maim us lurking among the tree trunks. Until they manifest themselves I plan to keep on enjoying some solitude until it’s time to pick up our reservation at the North Rim campground and stop among people and trash cans and water faucets, briefly, once again. 

Happy Fourth of July by the way. It’s places like these, not the corridors of power that spell true independence. I’m glad I’ve figured that out at last.