Indian (Hell Hole) Gardens with Dad and Kelley

My Dad has never been to the Grand Canyon. So while he was in Arizona we (Kelley and I) decided that he needed to visit. I think everyone who visits the Grand Canyon (who is wearing appropriate footwear and carrying a decent amount of water) should hike at least thirty minutes down a trail to see how the view changes and really appreciate the depth of the Grand Canyon. It is one thing to know how wide and deep it is, another to experience it. The Grand Canyon is magnificent, but the distances are so great that sometimes when you look at it, it looks like a painting.

I said Dad needed to hike at least thirty minutes down, Kelley decided we were going to hike to Indian Garden along the Bright Angel Trail which is 4.6 miles from the rim. We prepared for this by buying five times more food than we thought we needed, outfitting Dad with a camelback bag and a lightweight UPF shirt, and by stopping at the fabulous Pine Country Restaurant in William (famous for pie) for breakfast. It is a long way to the Grand Canyon from Kelley's house in Prescott, so even though we left at 6am, it was not that early by the time we started.

We started with a short hike along the Rim Trail so Dad could 'see' the Grand Canyon before 'experiencing' it. Kelley pointed out the bottom of the trail (Indian Gardens) we would be taking (it can be seen in the bottom right of this photo).

It was hot. And there were lots of stairs. I have old knees that don't much like stairs. I don't remember the stairs because last time I saw Bright Angel it was covered in snow and just a flat path.

There were a lot less people on the path than I expected and the further we went down, the less people there were. I enjoy people-watching when doing hikes like this because there are lots of STUPID people who are wearing ridiculous shoes, or blue jeans, or are carrying a twelve ounce water bottle or NO water at all. IDIOTS!

Spirits were high on the hike down and we spent most of the time teasing each other. Dad always pointed out the negatives and Kelley countered with positives. We both got after him for not drinking very much water. Dad said if he died to just kick him over the edge after emptying his pockets and getting the car keys. Other people were enjoying our banter back and forth too. I laughed so much that my stomach was sore. I walked behind them because I was walking slower, but also so I could take photos.

At the Three Mile House, Dad had to make the decision, turn around or keep going down to Indian Garden. He asked our opinions which I am sure was unhelpful (unhelpful because I cautioned and Kelley urged on), and decided to keep going. Then we passed a volunteer who gave Kelley (the leader) a lecture about being safe and how it was the wrong time of day to be hiking and how she needed to be thinking about everyone in the group. Kelley pretended to listen but I could tell she wanted to keep walking away from this man. Why don't they have a volunteer policing the top for all the idiots not carrying water?

The last mile and a half was an easier hike because there were less steps, but still difficult because we were tired. There were also more clouds so the sun wasn't beating down on us as much. Though Kelley did say the last little stretch of the hike was known as 'the oven.' Also there is a sign saying Indian Garden long before where we were stopping for lunch - on the benches next to the water fountain. There were a bunch of signs saying we were almost there before we actually got there and that was annoying.

We finally made it to the benches and collapsed. We cooled off and then started eating. And avoiding the squirrels. I even had a stick to try and beat them back. These were the fattest most aggressive squirrels I have ever seen. They crawled right near your ankles, tried to crawl in your pack, and chased all the skinny squirrels away. They didn't get anything from us! Indian gardens is an oasis about half way down the canyon that has a wash with running water and large trees. There is a campground there and some picnic shelters, running water and a composting toilet. This is where a lot of the donkey trips stop.

Eventually it was time to go up. We started up the path and had barely passed through Indian Garden when the monsoon began. It poured on us for a good twenty minutes, soaking us, and causing the path to look more like a wash with water running through it. I didn't mind the rain and actually enjoyed how cool it was - besides the water dripping in my eyes and the fact that my shoes were soaked.

The trip us was long and tiring. Walk for a bit til you were wheezing and then rest until you caught your breath. Kelley said she wasn't having much of a problem, that she was just as out of shape as us, so it must be the altitude and that we weren't used to it. Sure. Dad led the way up - he says out of desperation - but his pace was much faster than mine. The hike out was grueling and a lot quieter than the hike down. Because it rained the temperatures were cooler, but it was actually more humid - no more dry heat.

We eventually made it out. Dad didn't think we were ever going to make it even when Kelley and I pointed out how little we had left. At the top we went to get the shuttle back to the car. Kelley and Dad decided they didn't want to ride the shuttle through the whole loop so we walked back along the rim - a decision that was later regretted.

Finally the car was in sight. Water soaked shoes came off, sweaty clothes shed, and dry clean clothes put on (all in the parking lot of course). We went back the Pine Country Restaurant for pie and then home for showers and bed.

Now two days later, we are all still sore. Dad wont really tell us how much pain he is in, but he looks less stiff today. I think that he enjoyed it (after hearing Carol talk to someone on the phone about it). My calves are really tight, but it is getting easier. I've hiked Bright Angel three times now, so I am done with that trail. Next time I hike the canyon it is going to be cooler and I am going rim to rim.