16-09: Arizona

The second part of my trip through mainland USA started like the first one: I was very excited. When I left San Francisco with Sophie, we were driving for the first time on these american highways through California towards some of the worlds most impressive national parks. It was going into the wild, to bears, mountain lions, waterfalls and huge trees. Although a quarter of the area of California is desert and huge stretches of the Sierra Nevada are uninhabitated, it is still the most populated state of the USA. Now I was driving into the "backcountry" towards Arizona, a state almost the size of Germany but with a population of only six million. This was going to be even more wild. And I was going to see the Grand Canyon. My schedule looked like this: I had rented the car for seven days and had to return it to Los Angeles. That meant a lot of driving but I enjoyed driving on the roads of the USA. There was almost no traffic, the landscapes were amazing and the roads consisted of straight parts on which you'd have to travel sometimes dozens of miles before you had to turn the steering wheel to catch the next bend. You could drive for 200 miles easily without getting exhausted or the need for a break. Turn on the cruise control, relax, listen to music (I had used the Vegas hotel wifi to get some Frank Sinatra) and enjoy the time. It was awesome. You could just let your thoughts fly away. No more scientific nuts to crack for a while. Everything was sorted out. I had my wheels (which were my "emergency" night camp too), I had a weeks supply of food and I had seven more days of amazing sights in front of me (on the road). Damn right, I felt excited.

I don't know why, but I think more about this part of my travel then about the first one. I recognized multiple times that I always regard the most adventurous stages of my travels as the best ones. Maybe I should add: physically demanding. I feel good after a day during which I cycled 100km or more. I feel good after climbing up mountains. I feel good after walking five hours through the rain. I feel good after getting smashed down by huge waves of cold kiwi water for an hour while trying to catch one with my bodyboard. I don't know what it is. I feel good after carrying a bike for one hour through the hilly jungle of New Zealand, because the trail got to narrow and muddy to proceed riding it safely. Maybe its like this: The better the combination of physical activeness and adventure, the more I relieve my mind from stress and every-day stuff. And yes, I had some great hikes through the Grand Canyon.

My plan for the day was to drive out of Vegas into Arizona along the border to Utah. That would lead me to the road to the North Rim of the Grand Canyon, traditionally less frequented by tourists than the South Rim. One reason was the 80 miles dead-end road which you have to drive to get there, the other reason is the less developed infrastructure in the north. There is only one lodge and one campground, both not close enough to the rim to be able to walk there easily. Originally, I wanted to check out the North Rim, but unfortunately it took me till 3 pm to get out of Las Vegas (my car was reserved for 12:30 and I had to get my food supply from WalMart). My destination for the day was Page, approximately 300 miles east of Vegas, the location of the only hostel in north Arizona and I had to be there at 9 pm (which I didn't know at that time). But by the time I arrived at the intersection where I should have turned to get to the North Rim, it was already dusk. I estimated that I wouldn't be able to drive 80 miles to the rim, check it out, drive 80 miles back and another 100 miles to Page and arrive there at a reasonable time at the SAME day, so I had to skip the north rim. I was crossing the border to Utah multiple times (an even number of times ;) ) while making my way to Page most directly. I arrived in this lovely small town (it was big for North Arizona) a few minutes past 9pm. The hostel owner welcomed me heartily and started to tell me all about the region, the sights, asked me about my plans, handed me flyers and gave me tips for the next day. He even introduced me to my roommate, a 50-year-old sunburned German, who was riding his bike through Utah and Arizona (I'll call him Rudi, but I forgot his real name). I had not seen one travel cyclist on the roads of America before. I was really impressed and we talked a lot about how he gets around, his water supply strategy and everything. I remembered what my friend in NZ said to me: Germans travel to holiday destinations where everybody else goes too, but Germans just do the craziest things there. That was absolutely true in this case. But he said he enjoyed it, and I believed him. The hostel had high standard wifi too, so I spent another hour to upload some pictures, write something, check emails and have a beer, before I went to bed.

On the next day I got up early (7 am). I had a proper breakfast with boiled eggs and everything before I started my daytrip. I wanted to visit the famous Monument valley, which lay in the Navajo Indian Reservation. This reservation covered the whole northeast of Arizona and there was nothing there except for a few indian settlements and some sights. Since Monument Valley is located in the most northeastern corner of Arizona (the entrance is even in Utah) the return trip would be another 250 miles for my VW Rabbit before I would be back in Page where I wanted to stay another night. So I headed out around eight in the morning. The sky was as blue as always since the US Department of Homeland and Security set its stamp on my visa. Sun was shining and there was no doubt that I wouldn't see a cloud for another day. On the way to the Monument Valley, there was another sight called "National Navajo Monument". This was basically an ancient indian village built into a huge rock formation (see pictures). Very impressive, but it wasn't allowed to hike into the valley and to the village without a guide. So I did two small one-mile old-people hikes which were even paved. I hadn't really planned to hike down there either. An hour later I continued my trip through the wild west towards Monument Valley. Everybody knows Monument Valley from western movies or car advertisement clips. It is the visualization of the wild west. Check out the pictures and you will confirm this.

I arrived there shortly after noon and the parking lot was packed with tourist busses and other cars. I hadn't seen a crowd like this at a natural sight since... I don't know, probably Yosemite. And even there the people had been distributed better in the valley. But here it was pure money-making and tourism. The Navajos set out with their modern four-wheeled horses to carry people in a crazy speed through the valley every few minutes, creating orange-brown clouds of Monument Valley dust. Their was a 17-mile scenic road through the valley which wasn't paved and definitely a danger to any low-clearance car. Nevertheless, I tried to escape the hecticness of the parking lot and drive through the valley, but it was more a torture than joy. The road was in a hopeless condition, Navajo pick-ups were taking over every few minutes and soon my once precious white little rabbit was covered in brown valley dust. It was a very nice valley, definitely worth to have a look at, but all the hustle and bustle just disturbed the beauty. And after browsing the souvenir shop I was eager to leave this place as fast as possible. These indians don't know how to preserve their heritage with dignity. I now know all the stories about what the white settlers did to them and their dignity, but still...

So I drove back the 120 miles to Page to enjoy the rest of the day there. I wanted to visit the Antelope Canyon, a very beautiful and narrow piece, but once again Navajos b*****ed my experience. The canyon is divided into an upper part and a lower part. The upper part is the jewel and can only be reached (lets say is only allowed to be reached) on the back of indian pick-ups as part of a tour, which you have to pay heaps for. The lower part is still very beautiful. I wanted to go there, but the Navajos at the entrance wanted to have 20$ per person. Twenty. Unbelievable. I mean, a seven day permission to the Grand Canyon is 25$, to Yosemite, Sequoia, Death Valley 20$ per CARload. It seems, they just want to rip you off. I had to prevent me from laughing out loudly and went back to my car without another word. I could observe another family doing the same. So the next thing I did was driving to the Glen Canyon Dam, one of the dams which dams the Colorado River on its way to the ocean. The lake created by this dam was Lake Powell, reaching far into Utah. Another famous dam is the Hoover Dam near Las Vegas, creating Lake Mead. So I had a look at this giant structure and decided to jump into Lake Powell. The hostel owner has told me about the only spot of the lake which you can reach by car without paying a fee. Lake Powell is another kind of National Park or something like that. I drove there, took something to eat with me, prepared my soup and jumped into the lake afterwards. Since it was just water filling up a canyon, there was no beach or something like that. It was pure rock, and after a few meters the bottom just disappeared where the former empty and now flooded canyon began. After enjoying the sunset (it was a little bit misty because there was a giant woodfire somewhere in Utah) I drove back to my hostel and talked to Rudi and the owner, prepared the next day and wrote some more for my blog. Despite the money-making Navajos it was another beautiful day.

The next two days I wanted to stay in the Grand Canyon National Park. I hadn't reserved a camping spot over there because I couldn't. It was like every other National Park: Reservations for camping had to be made weeks or even months in advance in order to have the chance to actually get one. There were first come first serve campgrounds too like in every other National Park but they usually fill up till noon. I couldn't afford any other accomodation there and sleeping in the car or in the woods isn't allowed. If the rangers find you, you get kicked out of the park and banned for some time. I didn't want to risk that and wanted to try to get a camping spot even though I didn't even have a tent. That's why I had to get up early. It was about 120 miles from Page to Grand Canyon Village, and I also wanted to have a look at Horseshoe Canyon (see pictures) on the way there. Rudi rode his bicycle there on the other day and he said, it was so beautiful and silent that he just sat there for two hours. Indeed, it is simple to find your own silent spot in Northern Arizona. The only hectic place I found was the local WalMart. I spoke to my roommate for the last time that morning. He headed out to the Grand Canyon that day too, but he estimated a two-days ride, of course. I told him that I'll honk when I overtake him on the way there. He left before me, and I never saw him again. But what a coincidence: I saw another cyclist only a few miles outside Page. I honked because I still thought that it was Rudi and just realized that I was mistaken when I looked back. Whatever: This one was also happy about the salute.

I made a short detour to this Horseshoe Canyon before heading to the Grand Canyon National Park. It was as good as Rudi told me, although the sun was still not high enough for the rays to reach the bottom. I soon continued on my way to the Grand Canyon. I arrived at the east entrance at 10:30, where I realized that it was another 30 miles to the actual center of the park with the tourist facilites and everything. There were heaps of scenic points on the way there, so it took me another hour to get there. Once I arrived, I checked out the visitor center for cool hikes. They told me that I need a permit to stay on one of the campgrounds IN the canyon overnight and that I get kicked out if I get caught without one (standard procedure).

At first, I didn't want to do that at all, but I met a guy at the first scenic point who obviously wanted to share his great experience of hiking down there, staying overnight and hiking back up on the next day. He told me, that he can't really walk now because of his sore legs. And he even told me that he shot a movie of his girlfriend who invented something like a new "moonwalk" to avoid stressing the sore muscles anymore. He told me, that he needed four hours down and eight hours up. His stories got me obsessed with the idea to do the same. I didn't even consider hiking down to the bottom and back up to the rim in one day because I met people before (in Yosemite) who told me that they couldn't walk for a week because they hiked down to the bottom in two hours and back up in six hours on the same day. Additionally, there were signs everywhere that you shouldn't even think about it: The heat and the exhaustion could cause serious trouble, people died in the canyon already, they had to rescue more than 250 people out of the canyon every year and so on.

Consequently, the next thing I tried to get after my visit to the visitors center was one of these permits which allowed me to stay in the canyon overnight. Therefore I had to go to the Rangers Station and ask them for one. Unfortunately, the rangers have lunch between noon and 1 pm and I arrived five minutes after noon, of course. Therefore, I decided to have lunch too and pack my things for the night in the canyon. I wanted to take nothing more than my small sleeping bag, enough food for a day, a gallon of water and a fleece jacket. All of that would fit easily into my small backpack, no need to carry the large one down to the bottom. At 1 pm I was the first at the rangers station only to be told that all permits had been handed out already. There was no spot left on the two campgrounds in the canyon. I was a little bit disappointed, because now I wanted to get down to the bottom of that thing. But I had to be reasonable, too. I abandoned the idea of staying there overnight and asked for a reasonable turn around point for today (there were only two major trails which met at the bottom of the canyon). They told me that Indian Gardens would be the furthest point they could recommend (900m elevation loss and 5 miles distance one-way). Ok, I thought, fair enough. I'll go there and back up to the village today. At around 2 pm I started my hike from the trailhead at the rim. The trail winded 900m down the almost vertical canyon wall onto the Tonto plateau, which is the top of a rock layer which is more immune to erosion than the layers above it. Thats why it forms a plateau. The trail wasn't even and/or wide enough for two persons walking next to each other and there were lots and lots of steps. To the one side there was the vertical canyon wall and to the other side there was the canyon gaping. Most of the people I met were already on the way back up again. They were breathing heavily and looked exhausted. I could understand that. The sun was shining down on the hikers without mercy and there was almost no shade. I would have sweated like a pig if I would have been climbing up, too, but fortunately I was descending (happy times). I talked to an older women and her two children which had started from the bottom of the canyon in the morning, and they warned me of going further than Indian Gardens. They also asked me if I had a flashlight just in case it gets dark before I would be back up at the rim. I knew that it was full moon and they told me that it lighted up the whole campground last night.

Mules transported people and luggage back up to the rim. Lots of people had huge backpacks. I don't know why they carry loads of things 1300m down into a canyon for only one night. It was warm enough (15°C in the night) to sleep without a tent. I had talked to people who said that they only put a blanket onto a table in the campground and slept on it. Thats what I wanted to do originally: Roll out my sleeping bag and sleep under the stars. The chance that it would rain was almost non-existent.

I made my way down to Indian Gardens easily in two hours. Indian Gardens was some kind of oasis with lots of plants and trees which provide shade for rest-seeking hikers. There is also a campground, but it is not yet the bottom of the canyon. I had a break under the green leafs and watched a ranger do his work. He even stopped hikers walking towards the river (canyon bottom) to ask them for their plans and equipment. He didn't ask me so I didn't have to explain why I don't have a flashlight with me and only sandals instead of proper hiking boots. It was only four o'clock in the afternoon and I decided to disobey the advice of the rangers and proceed to Plateau Point, which was another 1.5 miles away from Indian Gardens. But my flyer said that the Colorado river is visible from there. And I definitely wanted to see that. When I arrived at the Point I instantly knew that it was worth it. The plateau ended there and it was going straight down another 300m. There was almost nobody there. I think this was my spot. Rudi sat at Horseshoe Canyon, I sat at Plateau Point. And I sat there for at least one-and-a-half hours. It was very silent. No noise from other people. No wind. You could hear the river sweep through the canyon in the distance, and sometimes it carried a few rafting boats. The river itself was just brown. There were no colour variations, it was just brown, at the shore and in the center. I knew that I had to climb back up the whole way, but when I sat there I just didn't care. It wasn't cold, the full moon would light up the trail, so there would be no problem. I had a conversation with a hitchhiker who had carried his whole 80 pounds backpack to this point, and a businessman who travels around and connects business with leisure time. All of us agreed that this was one special place. I won't forget it.

At ca. 6 pm my rationality defeated my wish to just sit there and I started to walk back up to the rim. I took my time with it. The sun disappeared around 7 pm and it was dark at 8 before the moon lit up the rest of my way. In the meantime I used the mini flashlight of which is included in my Swiss Army Travellers Kit. That helped but I still had to take careful steps on the bumpy trail. It got colder with the elevation gain, an issue I was prepared for.too. Finally around 9 pm I climbed out of the canyon. I hadn't met anybody during the last two hours of hiking. A young guy who hung out at the trailhead looked surprised as I suddenly appeared at the rim, but that was all. The next thing I did was using the public showers, which are provided by the National Park for visitors and which belong to one of the campgrounds. Now there was only one thing left: where do I sleep. I've read in my book that there it is allowed to camp for free in the Kaibab National Forest which borders the Grand Canyon to the south. I even got a map with recommended spots from the Ranger Station. So I just drove there (maybe 5 miles from Grand Canyon Village), ate dinner, adjusted my co-drivers seat (I could pull down the back almost horizontally) and slept in the car for the night. It was easy since I was used to it from all my New Zealand trips. The moon lit up the whole forest and I could see for dozens of metres in every direction. There were even prepared campfire spots here and there. There were no strange sounds and I felt safe enough to sleep in this forest.

I was suprised that I didn't have sore muscles. I didn't feel very exhausted. I walked 14 miles and climbed down two thirds of the total depth of the canyon. I noticed my aching leg muscles on the last hundred metres of elevation that I had to climb up, but that was all. Before I dozed away I decided to take the challenge and hike down the full way to the river and back up to the rim on the next day, no matter what all the signs said.

In order for avoiding the need of being rescued out of the canyon, I wanted to take the whole day for the hike. I wanted to be at the river before noon, have a proper dinner, have a nap and start climbing back up in the afternoon when the sun would have lost a bit of its strength. That should prevent me from getting exhausted too much. I would use my sandals like the day before, a proper shirt (no t-shirt) for not getting sweaty too much, a hat to protect my face from the sun, sunglasses, a gallon of water (there was no water supply on the trail that I would take, only at the trailhead and at the river) and lots of food. The signs said, that hiking into Grand Canyon is no time for a diet. A full hiker is a happy hiker. I fell out of my car at half past six, had a proper breakfast and drove back to the village. There was no parking at the trailhead so I had to take the free shuttle bus. This is another great thing in the national parks of the USA: They have free and frequent shuttle busses from the morning to the evening, and they would take you to every important sight or trailhead. My compliments for that. At half past seven I started my day hike with half a bus load of other people. There was one guy like me, he wanted to hike down and back up in one day, but I already lost him right in the beginning. I met him later on his way back up. He had a different strategy from mine. He wanted to avoid the heat of the day like me, but he wanted to be out of the canyon BEFORE it, not after it like me. He ran down to the river in two hours (I took my time, had breaks etc and it took me four) and he was already on his way back up when I met him at 11 am. But he sweated like a pig already and he had covered only 200m of 1300m elevation gain max by then. I think he ran up the most strenuous part of the hike right in the heat of the day. Meanwhile, I arrived at the river like I planned and took a bath in the small and clean creek, which flows into the Colorado river near the campground. Then I proceeded with my plan, having a proper dinner (soup, fruits, musli bars, some sweets, nuts, etc) and a two hour nap in the shade next to the creek. If that sounds relaxed to you, you still won't be able to grasp how relaxed it really was. I had absolutely no worries that I wouldn't get back up. I couldn't even feel the hike from the day before, and still my legs weren't showing signs of exhaustion. The only thing that could develop into a minor problem were my feet. The sandals were very good, but they were sandals and I started to get one or two big blisters. But hey, what could I do. Nothing, right? So no need to think about it. After my nap I had another bath in the creek (reaaaaally refreshing) and started to walk back up the same way. The sun was in the west now, and fortunately the trail was partly in the shade of a north-south rock formation. I took my time with climbing up. I think, in the end I walked as fast as I was when I descended. I divided my hike in four parts: Every 300m elevation gain (which took me 30-40 min average) I had a break of 20 or 30 min, eating the rest of my food supply and enjoying the silence of the canyon. On the last break I just waited for the sunset. I counted the sounds that I could hear. It was altogether four: The river in the distance, the wind blowing softly through dry plants, cries of a bird of prey here and there and my breath. That's it. I hiked the last part in the dusk like the day before, happily and relaxed. The hike was easier than I thought. I mean, I drank altogether six or seven litres of water on that hike (20km distance and 2600 elevation covered in total), but still I couldn't feel sore muscles. I climbed out of the canyon around half past seven in the evening. I had seen it at every time of the day now. It was awesome.

The shuttle bus that picked me up was empty. Nobody walked back up the trail at this time. The bus driver asked me how far I went and I told him my story. He didn't comment on it. He probably thought that I was another stupid tourist disregarding all the pretty signs around here. And I haven't even told him about my hike from the day before. Anyways, on the way back I could watch some elch cows and elch "children" next to the street. The rest of the day was the same like the day before: I had a long shower, ate dinner and returned to my spot in the forest. This time I collected some wood and made a campfire (allowed) to prepare some marshmallows. And this time I could here the sounds of coyotes not far away. I retired to my car and slept deeply through the hole night. It was a wonderful day, one of the best of the whole half year. Whoever visits the Grand Canyon, make sure that you hike down to the river. Take your time, take two days, you won't regret it!

By now, three of six full days that I rented the car went by. I still had three more full days before I had to drive to LA and return the car. My plan was to drive to San Diego and spend two days there and in Tijuana, south of the border. I knew that it would take a whole day to get there, so I got up early in the morning like the day before (around 7 am). It is easy to get up early when you know that you'll enjoy the whole day even if it is just driving. Being in the famous USA is adventure enough. This time my route back to California ran south of the Grand Canyon and the Colorado River. Another thing I wanted to do before I leave the USA was to drive a part of the famous Route 66. That's what I did on my way to San Diego. First I drove in the southern direction to the I-40, which I followed 40 miles towards the west coast. Between Seligman and Topock I took a detour via the Route 66. The first 90 miles were quite boring, nothing different from other roads. The only exciting part was a really old general store, which had been turned into a souvenir shop. This shop had collected heaps of old Route 66 stuff (check the pictures and you will see it for yourself). The toilet for example had been wallpapered with pin-up girls completely (at least the mens room). There were some old rotten motels on this leg of the Route 66, too, but no ghost towns or stuff like that. The last 70 miles were more like it. The route meandered through the mountains, my car was the only one for miles and the road got too narrow for two cars to pass each other. It lead through an old mountain village which had been commercialized completely. Suddenly there were tourists everywhere. Show duels happened on the streets, you could take pictures on mules, and souvenir shops everywhere. I didn't even stop to have a closer look. It was hot, I wanted to have dinner and I wanted to stop near a river or a lake. Thats why I continued driving along the Californian border direction south. There was Lake Havasu, another artificial lake created by the dammed Colorado river. Here, the water was clean again. It seemed that all the mud and sand particles which were carried through the Grand Canyon by the river sedimented already before it reached this lake. I found a jetty, had my dinner on it (soup out of a can again) and had a swim afterwards. When I left the lake it was already 4 pm and I still had to go at least 350 miles to San Diego. I had to drive through southern California, which is almost nothing but the Mojave Desert. I knew this already and could drive through it without spending another thought about sights that I could miss (btw. my travel guide stated that there was nothing to see). Additionally, I felt kind of fed up with deserts by now. After seeing the Grand Canyon and everything, simple rocky desert was just dull. So I drove along the I-10 towards LA till I reached Indio. Indio isn't famous, but it forms an urban area together with Palm Springs, a place well known because Sinatra and Elvis hung out there a lot. I just stopped to have dinner (it was dark already) and left the I-10 to cut through the mountains in the south. That was a cool ride. There was only one road winding up that mountain. Almost on top of it there was a scenic point, and you could see the lights Palms Springs spread out in the night below you. I had to sit there for at least half an hour because it was such an awesome view (Ive uploaded a picture of it of course ;) ), probably the highlight of this day. I continued my roadtrip through the night until it was 11 pm. I was only 100 miles away from San Diego in Orange County when I stopped my car. I had to sleep in it again, the third night in a road now, but I was comfortable with it.

I had covered 600 miles during that day with speed limits of max 70 miles per hour (on the Interstates). Thats what I call a roadtrip.

You can expect one more blog post where I will write about my last few days before I returned to Germany.

P.S.: I have added two videos of Arizona.