We hiked the 10 miles down to the Indian Reservation and slowly entered the visitors office. I was sweating profusely after the desert hike, but now I began to sweat out of nervousness. We were supposed to have a reservation but we didn't and we didn't know what would happen to us. As we entered I heard the man behind the counter having a similar phone conversation to the one I had with them the day before, "Sorry, we're booked solid, try again next year...early." Tobi and I looked at each other and took a deep breath. I was thinking about telling them that Tobi had a terminal disease and his last wish was to see these waterfalls before he died. I was also considering going through with the "We don't speak English" plan. There were a few options for us, but one I would not except was getting turned around now.
So what happened? Nothing. The woman behind the counter just assumed we had a reservation, took our names, our money, and gave us the camping permit. It was great. The only bad part was that there were 2 more miles of hiking left. The rest of the story will be told through the pictures we took. The pictures don't do this place justice, but my writing wouldn't either. I loved this place. Take a gander:
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Saturday, July 26, 2008
The Best Choice I've Ever Made
I will never understand how perspective can switch so much inside my own head. My head stays the same, relatively. I mean besides bed head, which I've now taken care of thanks to shaving my head, and a huge spider bite scar, my outward appearance stays pretty much the same from moment to moment. But inside my head I can go from feeling like a million bucks to 10 cents in no time at all. When I met Tobi I went from feeling that the end of my trip would be a failure to thinking the end of my trip was going to be the best week of my life in the time span of an hour. Yet on the road, when I was told we were not welcome to the Canyon waterfalls because we didn't have reservations I was depressed again. It's terrible to have great hopes, dreams, and desires that someone can put an end to over the phone, "Sorry, we're booked solid." Those simple words made everything we were hoping to see impossible. But one nights sleep and the impossible seemed possible again.
So we were there! That was a big enough step, but what to do now? Besides a small shed, about 50 donkeys, some great views, and more cars than we've seen since leaving Vegas we couldn't tell what all the fuss was about. Where were the people that drove these cars in here? We had to ask. The fear of getting kicked out made us hesitate from asking workers dumb questions about things anyone with a reservation should already know. So instead we asked a few people we saw in the parking lot about some information.
Where do we go from here? Is it worth it? Do you think they'd kick us out? We threw a barrage of questions at these clearly tired travelers (we'd come to find out why later). Apparently the parking lot is only the starting point. You need to hike 10 miles along the Canyon floor to get to the Indian reservation, and then check in. Once you're there it's two more miles of hiking to get to the camp site and the falls. Is it worth it? We repeated. I will never forget the look on the mans face when he said "If you came this far only to turn around at this parking lot you'll never forgive yourself. The scenery down there is some of the most contrasting beauties the world has to offer put right along side of each other. Desert cliffs, with crystal blue water rushing over it. Is it worth it? Yeah, it's worth it."
That sealed the deal. We would push on. As soon as we had that in our heads (a perspective change from fearful, to determined) we even asked some of the workers some questions, and to our surprise they were welcoming. "Just head down the trail, you'll see it in 10 miles." We didn't need anyone else to point us in the right direction but it was someone comforting to know that at least someone working at this place told us we could hike it. Even though we knew a lowly donkey renter had no business speaking for the tribe, you take any little victory you can when you're in our position.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Hoober Dam
Our destination was a remote, almost secretive place deep in the canyon that I had only been told about by other travelers (Billy, my cousin, and Mimi from Big Sur). They told me of beautiful blue water waterfalls deep in the canyon. Beauty amongst the desert, a real life mirage that looks too good to be true, but for once is real, and we were headed there. We found the dot on the Atlas and aimed for it. A few hours after leaving Las Vegas we stopped to get gas, and use the phone so we could call and make camping reservations. Yes, this is something we should have done before driving almost all the way to it. The phone conversation went something like this:
Me-"We'd like to camp at your reservation"
Worker- "We're booked solid for the rest of the year, sorry."
Me- "No, No, I just want to hike down to the waterfalls and put up a tent."
Worker- "Sorry we don't have any vacancies. We open up reservations on January 7th and we sell out the entire year by January 14th. So try again next year."
Me- "Wow. That's interesting, but I don't need a room, we have our own tent."
Worker- "Sir there is no room."
Me- "There is no room in the desert for a two person tent?"
Worker- 'I'm sorry, have a good day, goodbye."
Tobi and I were in shock. To add insult to injury some Germans were at the gas station with us and told us how the waterfalls were the most amazing things they ever saw. They would have payed anything to see them again, done anything, and they will never forget them. Of course they booked their stay a year in advance. Tobi and I had known each other for 22 hours and weren't able to plan a year in advance, so we did the what we thought would be the next best thing.
It was getting later in the day, and we were near the "only road into the Grand Canyon", Diamond Creek Road, so we thought it was worth a try. We'd camp there, discuss our options, and then get started again the next morning. It seemed like the safe option. That was until the Ranger told us that it's easy for cars to get stranded on Diamond Creek road. She warned us of popped tires, broken gas tanks, rocks, flooded road ways, bumps, etc... They took a look at our rental and said, "I wouldn't take the chance, but I can't stop you." and she was right. We couldn't be stopped.
We pressed on, with your Dodge Caliber, and hoped for the best. They told us the road was 5 miles long, a small miscommunication I guess because it was 18 miles long. 18 miles of unpaved desert ground that reminded me of my driving experience on Fraser Island in Australia. The majority of which were done with a fear of becoming stranded in the middle of nowhere fresh on our minds. The scenery was spectacular though. Every turn showed a new view of the canyon until we were actually in it. Small streams along the side of the car turned into the mighty Colorado, and we only decided to hike about the last mile of the road to our campsite.
We camped right on the Colorado. Read books before the sunset on cliffs in the Grand Canyon. Went to sleep under the brightest moon I can ever remember with sounds of rushing water nearby. We were both very please with our decision to stop here. Who else has driven a car in the Grand Canyon? You? I doubt it.
However, the BIG decision still hung over our heads. What to do about going to see the waterfalls. Should we try and go anyway? If they turn us away it will be a wasted day because it's so far away from anything else. Should we skip it and possibly miss out on the greatest beauty in the world without even trying? It didn't look good, but we talked and thought we'd figure it out in the morning, bright and early.
Friday, July 18, 2008
First Step Towards the Unknown
Monday, July 14, 2008
Vegas Baby Vegas
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Vegas was so much grander than I even thought it would be. I mean how do you explain the picture of me with a huge green bird on my shoulder? Vegas... It is amazing what money can do. Everywhere there is music, fountains, lights, wedding chapels, cars, buildings, and they all seemed to be tricked out by some crazy visionary who a long time ago had the belief that "if we make everything Extremely Tacky but Huge and Overdone, someday when it gets big enough the city will all come together and work" he was right.
The casinos are ridiculous. I'm not sure you can really describe them, there are too many and they have too many things in them. I took a water slide through a shark tank at one, and watched a lion feeding at another. These places are larger than life. They are confusing, five steps after walking in you can't find your way out. There are so many lights, and bells you think people have to be winning, you're wrong. The buffets are really good. However, unlike in Sydney, luck was not on my side during this trip to Vegas. I think I lost everything I played actually. But I still played everything I wanted. Since I had no "wining" highlights I would have to say that my losing highlight was when I played hold'em at the meca of hold'em, Binion's.
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I tried to see as much as I could in Vegas, on a budget that is, but I think I did alright. When you walk around everything seems so cheap; a steak dinner for 5 dollars, glasses for 2 dollars, a shirt for a dollar, drinks for 50 cents, a quarter for a dime, I don't know how they get away with it. Well, that's not true, it's the gambling, I know, but damn, everything else seems to cost nothing. I've been to China, and a number of Asian markets where things are supposed to be really cheap, but I think Vegas might have them all beat. Vegas had everything, and for almost nothing.
Again, I was saved at the last moment. I was sitting in the sun waiting for the guy at the counter to come back so I could sign up for the bus tour. I was ready to give in. Then I saw a guy looking at an Atlas. I thought about it, wondered my chances, then asked him, "where ya headed?" His response was, "I'm looking to hike and camp the Grand Canyon." Toby from Switzerland became my new best friend :)
Check out the pictures:
Monday, July 7, 2008
LA or BUST
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Friday, July 4, 2008
Greyhound Graveyard
I've always thought the idea of hitchhiking sounded crazy, but in the past few weeks of meeting people randomly or on the internet and driving with them, the idea now seemed almost ordinary. So far what I've done has worked out so well that even if this doesn't work out as well, it could still be a lot worse and not that bad at all. I also started getting the feeling that somehow hitchhiking would connect me more closely with the roots of my travel ancestry. The ones who came before me, before the internet, craigslist, hostels, and the like. Those who only had a bag and a thumb. Somehow if I did it maybe I would understand a little bit more about what they went through, maybe I'd find out a little bit more about myself, and maybe, just maybe I'd be better off for having done it. Well I'm here to tell you that I did learn something about myself and something about the hitchhikers that came before me. They didn't just have a bag and a thumb, they had guts too. I instead used my "brains" and decided that going back to San Francisco and taking the Greayhound would be the safest, and best decision for me to not end up dead on the side of the road.
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