We hit the Bright Angel Trail at about 9:15 a.m. Monday. Kevin, being the brilliant trip planner and researcher that he is, had booked mule service for the heavier part of our load so the girls would not be responsible for carrying heavy packs. This was a really, really good idea. Looking back, I cannot imagine what condition we might have been in had we had to carry that extra fifty or so pounds ourselves. Things like clean underwear and toothpaste might have otherwise been deemed luxuries that did not make the cut.
We survived the sand blasting to be met almost immediately with rain. We had no sooner donned rain gear and rejoiced that the moisture might wet down the sand when we realized it was actually sleet. Awesome. But the best was yet to come. Through the thick cloud cover I thought I caught a sudden white burst of light and had just enough time to wonder if it was lightning when the air split open with a loud boom.
Have I ever mentioned that the only thing I find more terrifying than heights is lightning?
We were about half an hour from shelter at the Indian Garden campground at this point but I think we made it there in fifteen minutes after that little um....motivational moment. We entered a ranger station to find about twelve other hikers crammed into a room that was maybe the size of a small toolshed. No worries. I’ll take cramped over electrocuted any day of the week.
“That water sure looks wet....I mean...cold.”
“Too much mool -- myoop -- mook....donkey dung.”
“I don’t really get NASCAR. I mean, a few laps okay, but 500? Turn left...turn left....left again. Really???”
(Okay, so that last one really makes a lot of sense.)
And I still woke up in the middle of the night hungry.
-Jenni