travel tangent: havasu falls 2008

A tangent for anyone missing travel and adventure during the pandemic.

In 2007, I gave myself the goal of signing up for an REI Adventures trip the following year (and training for it) and the permission to buy all the gear and clothing I needed.  I was starting from scratch so needed A LOT including boots, backpack, and sleeping bag. Wanting to go to a desert during a rainy PNW spring, I decided on a hiking trip to Havasu Falls in the Grand Canyon.  Single for a year and finally out of debt, I signed up on my own without needing to negotiate with man or friend.  Before I left work in Seattle, I cut out a picture of the turquoise waterfalls from the glossy brochure, wrote I am here! and drew an arrow, then taped it to my office door.  It was a BIG deal for me. 

To avoid worrying about plane delays and to enjoy more time in a hot climate, I flew to Phoenix, Arizona a day early.  Looking out at palm trees from the hotel room in Scottsdale, I phoned my parents in Nova Scotia to give them an update.  I had travelled on my own for business once before but never on vacation.  I was 43 years old.

Arriving back at the hotel in the evening after exploring the area by foot, I realized the lively group in the lobby must be an REI Adventures group just finishing the same trip that I would start the next day.  I couldn’t help but stare at these smiling and laughing folk, hoping I would arrive back in a similar state. 

I met my group the next day and we walked to a Mexican restaurant for an ice-breaking first meal together.  The trip was at capacity with eleven guests (including three married couples) in their late 30’s to early 70’s and three young REI employees. My journal notes: What a mix of people.  Two other women about my age seem cool. 

After breakfast the next morning, we loaded up the trailer and piled into a large van, somehow coming to an initial seating arrangement.  Stopping in Sedona, we had an easy hike through the desert landscape in Red Rock State Park (the lead guide, N, would also have been gauging our fitness level and gear).  After a picnic lunch, we had a long drive north to the motel closest to the trailhead but in the middle of nowhere.  Rooms very rustic.  Dinner buffet rustic too – disappointing to many. 

I was still feeling out of my depth and the dodgy motel room tripped off my OCish tendencies, but everything changed when I accepted an offer from MAC and K (those two cool women) to have a beer with them.  We were soon being silly about the bad motel art and laughing at the group dynamics we’d already noticed after one day in the van.  I assumed MAC and K were old friends but, no, they were travelling on their own like me and were assigned roommates (this introvert paid extra to have a room/tent to herself).  10 miles tomorrow.  8 miles to village, 2 miles to camp.  Hope the feet fare OK.

I did NOT sleep well for fear of disturbing anything else that might be living in the bed.  After we met at the restaurant at 6AM (breakfast was much better), it was back in the van for the 65 mile (100km) drive to Hualapai Hilltop where we would start our hike. 

In my 43 years, I had seen MANY photos and videos of the Grand Canyon.  But nothing, not even National Lampoon’s Vacation, prepared me for being there.  The jaw-dropping beauty of it, sure, but mainly the immensity of it.  Your own itsy-bitsy-teensy-weensiness beside it.  Looking at photos of the group unloading the trailer and gearing up for the hike that morning, I remember vividly how nervous I felt.  Had I trained adequately?  I was about to find out.

From the hilltop, it is ~1000 feet to the floor of Hualapai Canyon—this is the only part with switchbacks.  After that, it is a straightforward walk up the rocky canyon, sometimes catching shade, occasionally moving aside for horses and mules, to Havasu Canyon (also known as Cataract Canyon).  It was not lost on me that, on the return hike, the most difficult part—climbing up those switchbacks in the heat—would be at the very end. 

I kept up a steady pace and positive attitude.  The group stopped to eat (the restaurant redeemed itself with breakfast and a good bagged lunch) in a shady spot called Bear Meets Man.  By the time we got to Supai Village (8 miles in), I felt tremendous relief.  After a break which included the foresight to buy postcards (and stamps) to mail on the way out, we had two more miles to the campsite but this seemed easy now that we were walking with a view of the mesmerizing blue-green Havasu Creek and often under the shade of trees.  Rounding a corner and seeing Havasu Falls for the first time was still a shock.  After hiking down the path to the next level of the canyon (and rubbernecking the falls), we arrived at the campsite, and jumped in the creek to cool down.

In arrangement with the Havasupai tribe, REI had a campsite set up for the season between Havasu Falls and the campground.  This private campsite had a large kitchen area and the tents were so big I could stand up to get dressed.  Although tents closest to the creek seemed desirable to some, the water proved loud for sleeping.  The vegetarian meals that the guides cooked for me were all delicious and there was always plenty of food to refuel (the guests took turns with the washing up). 

Toilet choices at that time were nearby port-a-potties (that were switched out by helicopter!) and composting outhouses.  There were no shower facilities at our campsite—we rinsed off the dust and stink in Havasu Creek.  For years after, camping gear from the trip could instantly transport me to early mornings kneeling over the creek, staring at the canyon wall, and splashing that cold water on my face.  

The second and fourth days in the canyon were easier/recovery days.  We did short hikes in the morning and afternoon to Navajo Falls, side canyons, caves, and higher plateaus. In the late afternoon, there was time to relax and I happily joined the group in a circle of camp chairs. 

On the itinerary for the third day was a more strenuous walk following the creek down Havasu Canyon. The evening before, N was asked about the steep climb. Wait. What? He explained that he wasn’t going into detail about it because we might make it a much bigger deal in our head than it would prove to be.  He assured us that we were all in shape to do it.  There I was thinking the only difficult part of the trip was the 10-mile hike in and back.  I hadn’t done my homework.  Of course I started worrying. 

The only way to the bottom of Mooney Falls (200 ft) and the next level of Havasu Canyon is to climb down a steep route in the travertine that involves steps, ledges, ladders, tunnels, chains, and rebar.  MAC remembers this part as thrilling in a good way.  Not me.  Facing near-vertical rock at times, I couldn’t see where my feet needed to go and I was WAY WAY WAY the fuck out of my comfort zone.  The guides patiently helped everyone who needed assistance, of course, but it was K in particular who encouraged and directed me.  It wasn’t easy going back up later in the day but it was definitely EASIER. 

Walking from Mooney Falls to Beaver Falls, we split into “water” and “land” groups.  MAC, K, and I were in the “water” group which meant part of the route included walking down Havasu Creek and jumping over multiple cascades.  Jumping over the higher falls was still a stretch for me but N knew that being with MAC and K (who were both fitter and braver than me) would motivate me.  As we laughed about it later, a friendly competition had grown among the three of us. 

For a young man, N was an experienced, knowledgeable, and patient guide and an excellent judge of what participants could achieve with encouragement.  He also spoke reverentially of the Havasupai people and his thoughtful words about the community have always stayed with me.

Before the hike out of the canyon, I let MAC and K know I was concerned about keeping up with them in the heat and climbing the switchbacks at the end.  Leaving early morning, MAC and K set a good pace, encouraged me, and I kept up.  Besides the three of us (and one REI employee), only the kick-ass couple in their 70’s hiked out.  They have remained an inspiration to me.

For a variety of health reasons (and two couples sticking together), the other participants opted to pay for the helicopter and so had to wait around until there were available seats.  Residents and supplies necessarily take priority.  There are no roads to this remote Indigenous village, so the helicopter is vital for transport and delivery.  MAC, K, and I were up those switchbacks and out of the canyon before the first of the helicoptered guests landed. 

And later that day, I was part of a dusty, proud, smiling group of hikers loudly arriving in the hotel lobby in Scottsdale.

That 2008 trip kickstarted a new phase in life.  On the bottom of that magical canyon, I realized I’d forgotten how to have fun.  Soon after getting home to Seattle, I cancelled cable and joined a local hiking organization.  I set fitness goals and became stronger, braver, and more adventurous.

And in 2009, MAC and I returned to the desert for another organized hiking vacation in Arizona and Utah. Yearly trips or visits followed. Because MAC and I both picked the trip to Havasu Falls for the same week in 2008, I gained a compatible travel buddy and a lasting friendship.

Notes, references, and related links:

• REI: Recreational Equipment, Inc.
• PNW: Pacific Northwest.
• OC: obsessive-compulsive.
• MAC: mon amie Caroline.
• Havasu Falls is located in a side canyon (Havasu / Cataract Canyon) in the Grand Canyon in Arizona but it is not part of Grand Canyon National Park.  It is on the land of the Havasupai people.
• In August 2008, just three months after I was there, a massive flash flood in the canyon caused extensive damage.
• Havasupai, Grand Canyon (National Park Service page)