Quarter Pounders from Heaven
Volume V - Arrival
by Dan Rowley, Copyright (C)1998 Dan Rowley - all rights reserved


   Anticipation and the need to *work* to achieve a goal are both great magnifiers of experience and sensation. Virtually all perceptions, good or bad, take on immense proportions under their twin influence. When the experience is good, it borders on religious epiphany, but if it somehow fails to meet expectations, the disappointment can be crushing. Thankfully for our motley band of adventurers, the former case was the rule of the day. By the time we staggered into camp (after a virtiginous walk across one of the two metal suspension bridges which span the Colorado at this point), any reasonably stable surface would have seemed like a throne, so it was with exceedingly pleasant surprise that we noted the basic, unassuming picnic table which graced our campsite. Like country kids seeing an amusement park for the first time, we wandered our temporary home and also noted (with considerable surprise and not a little pleasure) that there was fresh water available, bathrooms with lights and actual plumbing, and a happily burbling stream a few footsteps away. Now, no doubt there are camping purists among you who scoff at plumbed facilities and insist that their presence negates our right to claim to have actually camped, and normally I would be among your number, but when you consider the kind of traffic that the Grand Canyon must sustain, it's not too tough to overlook the occasional intrudence of a modern convenience. This is especially true when one considers the likely alternative - human beings have a remarkable capacity for fouling their own environment, and I imagine that an unstructured campground that received this much traffic would scarcely be one anybody would like to visit. If it makes you feel any better, the next campground (Indian Gardens) would have water, but no plumbing. Even then, though, the Park Service provides fixed "pit" composting toilets. I learned from a helpful interpretive sign that the current position of the Indian Gardens campsite is actually slightly North of it's original location, because the original campground (before the stewardship of the Park Service) was so befouled by it's occupants that it had to be abandoned.


Bright Angel Campground from Above

   In addition to the picnic table and surprising sanitary facilities, our campsite was also equipped with stunning views, at no extra charge. One of what I consider to be the two most spectacular photographs from this trip was taken at sunset right next to our campsite. Bright Angel capground is situated along the shores of Bright Angel Creek, nestled in a small side canyon which runs generally perpendicular to the Colorado. You can't see the rim from there, but the walls of this small canyon are still impressively tall, and yet not so tall as to make it impossible to believe that you've found your own private canyon - if you can ignore the campers next door, that is. Late in the afternoon, the sun sinks from view behind the West wall of the canyon, and if you fail to turn around and look the other way, you would miss the sun painting the upper ramparts of the cliffs to the East. The contrast of the brightly lit peaks overlaid by the sharply shadowed lower reaches is truly a sight to behold.


The view from Bright Angel Campground


The view from Bright Angel Campground (2)


Our Home Away from Home

   Stunning views or no stunning views, the scenery soon took a back seat to the more immediate concern of feeding ourselves. Since we had been cheated out of a steak dinner cooked by somebody else by a malfunctioning water pipe (see earlier volumes for more information on this subject), our repast would consist of the meals our military troops lovingly refer to as "Meals Rejected by Ethiopians," or MREs ("Meals, Ready to Eat"). Now, far be it for me to second guess the brave souls who guard our freedom, but I don't think I could have been happier with my meal if it had been prepared by Betty Crocker herself. Perhaps it's my meat-and-potatoes-hot-dish midwestern upbringing, but I found the meals exactly to my taste, and found no need for the adorable little bottle of tobasco thoughtfully provided by Uncle Sam (side note - for an interesting history of military rations, check out the June-ish issue of "American Heritage of Invention and Technology" magazine - it's fascinating). We were a little disappointed to find that our "consumerized" MREs were stingier with the drink mixes and side dishes than the "real" MREs we enjoyed on a previous trip, but there was still no shortage of food. Once we had completed our well-deserved feast, we decided that it might be nice to wander over to the nearby Phantom Ranch to enjoy a beer and rub elbows with some like-minded canyon explorers.

stay tuned for part VI - The Other Half


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