Backpacking Rim to Rim in the Grand Canyon--Day 3--Cottonwood to North Rim

Day 3:  Cottonwood Campground to North Rim Campground, May 14, 2025 (the day BEFORE the North Rim opened)

The morning view from my campsite:  

Since temperatures were dropping to downright pleasant, I didn't worry about getting up really early, so I didn't get on the trail until about 7:50 AM--10 minutes behind the two older guys who'd arrived latish the night before and camped near me, but who I didn't get a chance to talk to.  I thought, "I'll probably pass them on the trail soon."  Joke was on me.  Stay tuned for the rest of the story.

I also left about five minutes behind the big group I'd met the evening before.  The trip leader was a father travelling with his adult daughter (so cool!) and five other people--his work friends and their partners.  They were all super nice, and we leapfrogged all day, chatting and hanging out for bits and then separating and meeting up again later.  All lovely people.  

But those two older men...where were they?

About a mile north of Cottonwood is a gorgeous little waterfall down from the trail.  I can't believe how beautiful this place is, and how varied.  About there is where we started noticing pines.  At a far lower elevation than I've noticed south of the river.  

At Manzanita rest area, the water was on--but it was the last water we would have (water was still off at Supai Tunnel and North Rim trailhead, and there aren't any accessible streams), so we all hung out, filling up and chatting with three female trailrunners, one of whom was more advanced in age than I would believe for such a feat.  Amazing.   On my map app (the otherwise fantastic mapy.cz), there's a symbol for parking at Manzanita rest area, which always cracks me up.  Because this is no parking lot you can drive your car to.  It's a helicopter pad, mostly for emergencies, but I can just imagine someone less familiar with the canyon thinking it was a parking lot at the end of a road.  Not so.  

There was also a scale, so I weighed my pack.  28 lbs, loaded with over 4 liters of water (but minus my heavyish camera).  Ultralight it's NOT, and I hope to get lighter as I get more experienced, but considering all that water, and the fact that most of my gear is on the budget side, I was pretty happy with that.     

As I hiked, things just kept being so beautiful.  I didn't hike fast.  I just enjoyed the day--and took a million pictures.  A funny thing about the Canyon:  I'm old-fashioned and still generally prefer landscape photos that look best on a TV/laptop as opposed to portrait photos that look best on some social media platforms.  But this is a place where it's hard to get the sky and everything else in the frame unless you go vertical.  

From the North Kaibab Trail, the old Bright Angel Trail across the way looked quite precarious in parts, and I wondered if my trail looked just as precarious from that angle.  There WERE a few parts later that day that made me...wary.  I have a well-developed fear of heights, and I suspect that had I been hiking in deep snow or heavy rain or ice or high winds--like the wind two days ago--I would have been really nervous.    

When Roaring Springs roared into view, I was amazed.  The waterfall is huge for a place this generally arid.  The power of that crashing water carried over the space between us.  Amazing.  I met a guy hiking down and asked him to take my picture.  Turns out he was a North Rim employee, on his day off before the big opening.  We chatted for a bit, swapping interesting stories.  

I took the detour to Roaring Springs (the trail is open to the rest area--which heads away from the waterfall, not toward it, but the restroom is closed).  No one else was down there but me and a whole lot of butterflies and dragonflies.  I had a snack and a break and just watched all the life around me. 

I met a ranger on the trail, headed down to turn the water on at Cottonwood, spend the night at Manzanita, and then hike over to the South Rim.  What a terrible job he has.  :)  

The weather was gorgeous and I felt like my seven trail friends and I had the entire canyon to ourselves.  Well, the eight of us, a few North Rim employees, and a handful of hardy R2R2R trail runners.  Fantastic.

Just above the Redwall Bridge, I overheard one of my trail friends say "We're almost there."  His daughter said, "Your version of 'almost there' is different than mine."  For the rest of THAT story, see my next post (shameless promotion).

The rainbow cliffs above the Supai Tunnel floored me with their beauty.  One of my other trail friends said, "I love an outhouse with a view!" She had worked for years as a hiking guide, taking groups to front-country campgrounds and then leading day-hikes.  She'd been here for work, but only to the South Rim.  This was her first trek down into the canyon, and she loved it.  

The sky had been looking a little threatening for a while, but about twenty minutes above Supai Tunnel, it suddenly started snowing!  It was more like icy blobs than lacy flakes, but still.  SNOW!?  I would have sworn the temperature was lower 60s, maybe upper 50s.  I stopped and just enjoyed the phenomenon.  The snowstorm lasted about four minutes.

When Humphrey's peak appeared in the distance, there was a lot more snow there. 

And when I reached the North Rim, there were still pockets of snow in the shade.  

According to my tracker, 8.2 miles (including detour to Roaring Springs), 4172 feet of climb, 8:17 leisurely hours.  Speed demon.   

When I got to the campground, the two older men who'd left 10 minutes before me were already there, relaxing, their camp all set up at the campsite with the best view.  They'd been there for almost three hours.  :)  They were super friendly and we talked gear and such and they invited me to their bonfire party later.

The campground (and the entire North Rim) was still closed to visitors (except those who had walked or biked there), so it felt like we had the whole place to ourselves.  I chatted with a pair of young women who had also made it before me.  Then I chatted with others as they drifted in--my big group of trail friends and another pair of young women I'd met the night before at Cottonwood.  The guys lit a fire, and we all hung out and watched the sunset.

I was the last one to bed.  At 8:25.  

Wonderful, wonderful day.  

See my posts on Day 1:  South Rim to Cottonwood

And Day 2:  Ribbon Falls

Phoenix, Arizona vs Vsetin, Czech Republic

 I don't think I really need to say much more:

Left:  South Mountain Park, Phoenix (admittedly not in the lushest of seasons, but...it's this way a lot of the year).  Right:  a typical hike (in summer) from the hills around Vsetin.  

Backpacking Rim to Rim in the Grand Canyon--Day 2--Ribbon Falls

Day 2:  Ribbon Falls, Wall Creek, and rest day at Cottonwood Campground, May 13, 2025

I reserved two nights at Cottonwood, partly on the off chance the North Rim didn't open when expected. Then I'd have the option of blitzing up to the North Rim on this, my second day, and then returning to the South Rim on the third.  Luckily, there was no such trouble with snow on the North Rim, so I had a day at leisure.    

I enjoyed a relaxing morning, then took my mostly-empty backpack and headed to Ribbon Falls, only a couple of miles south of Cottonwood.  

I'd worried that Bright Angel Creek would be dangerous to cross, because two years ago in early May it had been a violent, frothing terror I wouldn't have dared cross.  Last year in late April it had been pretty vigorous.  I wouldn't have crossed it alone, and I would have been very, very careful to pick exactly the right spot.  I heard a couple of tales that year of people who HAD crossed it.  One, an young man, very adventurous and strong, had said it made him nervous but he was okay.  The other was a somewhat older couple, but also very fit and adventurous.  The woman had lost her balance and the current tore off her shoe and sock.  The man, by some miracle, had caught the shoe.  But the sock was history.  And she was grateful it hadn't carried her off.  So...I'd gone into this knowing I might not see Ribbon Falls. 

The first day, however, the moment I saw Bright Angel Creek emptying into the Colorado, I knew I had a good chance.  It just looked like a nice little creek.  When I got closer and saw how clear and relatively gentle it was, I got excited.     

Bright Angel emptying into the Colorado May 12, 2025:

Bright Angel emptying into the Colorado April 23, 2024:

Bright Angel Creek from the bridge at Phantom Ranch, May 12, 2025:

Bright Angel Creek from the bridge at Phantom Ranch, May 8. 2023:  

It's not quite as obvious in these pictures, but look at the color, the white caps, the rocks sticking out (or not), the width.  Nature is so variable.  

Anyway, with the creek so nice and low, I hiked down from Cottonwood to the northern, "bridge" crossing.  Of course, there's no longer a bridge, but you can see the remains of it if you look hard in this pictures:

I went just upstream of the old bridge site, where there seemed to be a trail, and found a really good place to cross.  It was no problem at all at this water level.  Later I heard one group that had crossed downstream of the bridge site that said it was a "nightmare."  I investigated on the way back, and yes, I'd recommend going upstream--at least at this water level.  I heard others say the "creek" crossing on the south end was sketchy.  Others said it was fine.  But I think the braided trails also lead to various crossing points there, so just investigate a bit and pick the best one.  NOTE:  I do NOT RECOMMEND crossing in higher water if you're alone, if you're not used to creek crossings, or if you have any other reason for caution.   And if it's like it was in 2023 when I was here, I wouldn't cross at all.  

I got there at about 8:30 AM and I had the entire place to myself.  It was amazing.  

I played in the pool at the bottom, climbed up behind the upper part, watched the wind change the course of the falls, sat on a rock and let the spray cool me.  Then came the moment when the sun finally made its way down over the cliff walls and lit the upper cascade.  Gorgeous.

The first people got there about 10:00.  I talked with lots of interesting people, all doing the Grand Canyon in their own way, from the thru-hiker who didn't start ultralight but who, after almost 700 miles, is now, except for extra powerpacks he carries so he can facetime his girlfriend for an hour in the middle of nowhere when he finally gets signal, to the guy who had brought several old-school paperback adventure novels because he and his friends were staying at the lodge at Phantom Ranch and could afford the weight.  There was a group camping two nights at Cottonwood, like me, who'd planned to hike up to the North Rim today but decided they'd better save their energy for the unexpectedly long hike back to the South Rim (with the Bright Angel Trail closed partway).  There was a geologist who explained that the mound of Ribbon Falls had formed over the eons like a cave stalagmite.  And the guy who discovered that the little cave we'd been wading into actually had a birds nest with two baby birds in it:

I spent about four hours there, and loved it.  What a privilege to have a day to spend in a place like this.  

By the way, I got a ton of comments on my rainbow water shoes.  

Their tread/soles were good enough to wear all around the falls (with caution), and they were super comfortable.  They are also super light, dry quickly, and will probably become my go-to camp shoes, even if I'm not going to use them as water shoes.  I'm not sure how durable they'll be with hard or extended use, but for this purpose, they were perfect.  Ounces:  5.2 for the pair.  Packability:  great.  Price:  $8 when I bought them (though they're showing $10 now).  Anluke Water shoes on Amazon:  https://www.amazon.com/dp/B078WS7VSL.  Available in plenty of colors/patterns.

After I left Ribbon Falls, I explored Wall Creek just a bit--upstream--because I'd read of someone else adventuring up there.  It was too brushy, but I picked around a bit and found several darling little frogs and this handsome guy:

 Just before I got back to Cottonwood, at 2:20 pm, I met a young woman running BACK from the North Rim already.  "Are you running rim-to-rim-to-rim?" I asked in awe.  Her:  "Yes.  First and LAST time.  It's work."  And me?  I was just lazing around all day in a beautiful place.  Those trail runners are really something else.  

I spent the rest of the afternoon relaxing in camp, chatting with fellow campers, wading in the creek.  Another fantastic day in the Canyon.  

Backpacking Rim to Rim in the Grand Canyon--Day 1--South Rim to Cottonwood Campground

Day 1:  South Rim to Cottonwood Campground, May 12, 2025

A dawn start on the South Kaibab, everything misty blue:  

A very, very, very windy sunrise from Ooh Ahh Point:

The most beautiful part of the trail (especially during this time of day):

For any day-hikers out there who just want a little taste of the canyon, I highly recommend the first bit of the South Kaibab (at sunrise, if possible).  Go at least 10 minutes or so past Ooh Aah Point and you'll see the above section of trail, which is one of my favorites anywhere.  Remember that going back up will take twice as long, and there's no water and practically no shade, so carry enough water and go when it's cool.  

Me at Skeleton Point.  Note the scarf to protect my ears from the continuing and very aggressive winds, the knock-you-off-balance winds.  This was my fifth hike into the Canyon and the only one with this particular weather feature.  Luckily it calmed down a little on the few parts of the South Kaibab where you really don't want to be knocked off balance.    

Well-loved trail:

Me at the fork where normally you can go left on the River Trail and right to Phantom Ranch, but the River Trail is still closed for pipeline work (as is the Bright Angel down from Havasupai Gardens).  The South Kaibab had a lot more traffic on it than usual because of the closures.  People going from the river to the South Rim had two choices.  First option:  Go up the South Kaibab to the Tip-Off and then across the Tonto to Havasupai Gardens, where they could pick up the Bright Angel.  This added significant mileage.  Option two:  Go straight up the South Kaibab (steeper than the Bright Angel, really exposed, and without water).  This unexpected prolonging of the closure didn't affect my itinerary, so I was lucky.      

I met a mule train right about here on my very first trip.  What a cool echo.

After playing in the Colorado, having some lemonade at the Phantom Ranch canteen, writing postcards, and filling up with water, I started through the Box on the North Kaibab:

It was getting pretty warm, so I took every opportunity to get my hat and scarf wet in Bright Angel Creek:

Some of the many colors of prickly pear blossoms I saw on the trail:

And there were so many gorgeous, lush sotol blooms, towering over the rest of the vegetation.  Very cool.

The aggressive wind, however, was dehydrating me even more than the 90+degrees Fahrenheit would normally have, and I ran through my water faster than expected.  I was down to my last quarter cup or so (not as dire as it sounds, because I could have backtracked a bit and found a decent route down to Bright Angel Creek or just pushed through to Cottonwood Campground, less than a mile away, but I was still sooooo happy to find this beauty crossing my path:

I sat down in the shady-ish banks of Wall Creek and filtered about 3 liters of water.  

By the time I got to camp, I was hot and tired and happy.  I felt a little bit like this squirrel:

I relaxed the rest of the day, snoozing in the shade of my campsite, chatting with others by the creek--including a cool thru-hiker who let me pick her brain, wondering whether the wind would die down enough for me to put up my tent, cold-soaking my dinner, and then watching and listening to a bunch of bats who were chowing down on bugs at dusk.  What a lovely, lovely day.

By the way, I finally set up my tent before dark (still in the wind), and even though the ground was so hard I could hardly get my stakes in partway and had to shore some of them up with rocks, my tent did really well.  It flapped noisily, keeping me awake for a while.  But it didn't fall down.  Spoiler:  and it wasn't until the next afternoon that one of the less-secure pegs finally pulled out.  So now I've had my first rainy test (last Grand Canyon trip) and my first windy test (this trip), and the tent's going strong. 

It's the Naturehike Cloud Up 1 (20D nylon variety).  I'm not crazy about some aspects of it.  It's kind of cramped (but what do you expect from a one-person backpacking tent?)  The tunnel design is not as handy for getting in and out as other door designs.  There are rather of a lot of stakes and guy lines, so it's not as quick to set up as it claims unless you have really nice, soft ground (but those stakes and guy lines probably help it take the wind as well as it seems to).  However...for the money, it's the lightest tent I've found, it's just big enough for my needs, it packs down fairly small, it has nice features like reflective strips to keep you from wandering off in the night and losing your tent, and so far it's been good in rain and wind.   So...I would recommend it for budget backpackers or people just testing the waters before they invest big.       

Grand Canyon Teaser

 Soon I'll post all about my rim-to-rim Grand Canyon backpacking trip, but for now, here's a simple picture:

Speckled Rattlesnakes

I've posted before about how cool speckled rattlesnakes are, and how the individual populations in the different mountain parks around Phoenix have evolved different colorations according the rocks where they live, the better to camouflage themselves.  Well, here's the first one I ever saw, at Skyline Park, where there are a lot of gray, cream, and light brown rocks:

  

Here's a (blurry) picture of one I just saw last weekend at Camelback Mountain, where the rocks are mostly red and brown:

Pretty amazing, huh?  

The Memory Palace, by Nate DiMeo

Dear Nate DiMeo,

I'm very upset with you.  Your book was just not long enough.  I wanted more, more, more.  I have listened to approximately three podcast episodes in my entire life.  They're not really my thing.  But I am totally going to go out and listen to yours.

I loved this book.  The subject matter was fantastic—interesting and varied.  The writing was creative.  At times the style got a little more experimental or grandiose than I like, but that's very subjective, and I still enjoyed it even in those bits.  I loved how you made these unknown people and strange moments in history so real.

The length, however, was terrible.  I wanted it to be about three times as long.  I'll forgive you, however, if you write a sequel.     

I don't give a lot of 5-star reviews, because I think 5-star books should be pretty near perfect.  But there's not even a question here.  FIVE STARS!

Sincerely,

Melinda Brasher