In 1968 I didn’t think so. We took a family trip from Florida all the way to California camping most of the way. It was at the Grand Canyon we went to one of those Park Ranger camp fire talks. It was there that we heard of “a walk down the canyon.” We were all excited and decided to take that walk the very next morning.
On July 21st, my dad was 44, I was 13, Brandon 12 and Kristy was about 9 years old. Mom stayed at the campground. At the rendezvous point we didn’t see anyone. I now think we just went to the wrong place. Also, I think the guided Park Ranger tour was supposed to be a short walk down the canyon.
We decided to make our own journey and started walking down the South Kaibab trail. Our intent was to go all the way to the Colorado River! My dad had one gallon of water.
The Colorado River looks so blue, and from the top, it was just right over that next rim. Not. It was six miles down. Walking down, it seemed so easy to reach.
For some reason I got ahead of my family. Luckily, a National Park Ranger was on horseback saw me and asked where “my group was.” “Just back a ways,” I said. He later told my father that “my dad needed to get me.”
There was no way we were going back up this trail with one gallon of water. We found out later that we needed a gallon of water per person. We had to find a route known as “Bright Angel Trail.” We walked along the Colorado River for a mile and a half to connect to Bright Angel. That trail had three watering holes and was eight miles up.
I remember seeing the heat “waving” across the white sand. I later read that the heat down at the base of the Grand Canyon can get 120F on a hot day. July 21, 1968 it was hot.
We jumped into the Colorado a few times mindful of the current. It was probably our savior of the day. The water was cold and drinkable. Today, there is a bold warning on “not swimming” in the Colorado River due to currents and cold water.
There was a man and his two small children we saw at the bottom. They were younger than my sister. We suspect they were probably rescued. Along the trail are guide posts with actual phones. In 1968, a helicopter ride out cost $200 per person. My father encouraged us that he “would buy as much ice cream as we wanted if we made it to the top (i.e. without helicopter assistance).”
I still recall the memory of looking from the bottom of the Grand Canyon to the top rim. It was about a 5,000 foot distance. What a view, and what a hike up!
At the Indian Garden Campground watering hole we saw a dead rattlesnake someone was going to cut up and eat. Indian Garden is a beautiful oasis with shaded trees. Reality soon set in when we walked out of “the garden.”
We came across several “mule riding” groups. What I most remember is the smell from the mule excrement on the trail.
By mid-day my mom was frantic wondering where we went to. Even today I don’t think cell phones work in the canyon. Definitely no cell phones back in 1968.
My little sister, Kristy, was the first one to the top. She passed my brother and me as we were laying down on the trail, close to some excrement. We were so tired.
We left that morning at 8:00 A.M. and now it was 7:00 P.M. An ambulance was near, but it was there to pick up a boy who fainted from heat stroke playing softball at the campground.
That day is forever etched into my memory. I have read since then that what we did is “highly discouraged.” People die in that canyon every year. Most people go down and spend the night.
I have been back to the Grand Canyon several times and even to the North Rim. It is quite impressive and stunning. There is a part of me, though, that believes the Grand Canyon is literally the “biggest hole in the world.”