Last week I told you my nephew, Barry Taylor, and his wife, Amy, had come to Arizona for a five day backpacking trip into the remoter areas of the Grand Canyon. What they didn't know when they left 80 degree weather in St. Paul, Minnesota, was that Arizona had been hit with a freakish early spring snowstorm. But armed with reservations at the Canyon and the foolhardiness bravery of youth, they set out.
You will notice there is snow everywhere. Quite a bit of snow covering a narrow trail leading to the depths. No room for any false moves.
But as one descends into the Canyon the climate changes, the temperature rises and the snow melts.
I didn't say the footing got any safer or easier. But these two have hiked in Bolivia. They have hiked into canyons in Death Valley where there were no trails. I asked how they didn't get lost. Barry said "topo maps." And they didn't get lost this time, in spite of this.
As one goes deeper, the walls open somewhat.
And then they were down at the bottom.
Barry and Amy might say "just another walk in the park." But I'll bet they slept well in that 4-pound-tent.
Since I moved to Arizona 40 years ago I have thought of hiking the Canyon. But I put it off too long and now I'll just have to live vicariously through the adventures of my nephew and niece.
