The Grand Canyon deserves its own post. I mean, fuck, it’s the Grand Canyon after all. Nobody puts baby in the corner. Especially when baby is such a massive canyon and beyond cool (but oh-so hot). About three months ago, we applied for our backcountry permit into the canyon to camp at Bright Angel Campground. The email with said permit had a huge disclaimer at the top that read:

WARNING! We are concerned you have chosen a summer hike—hiking in the desert of Grand Canyon within the hottest time of the year carries inherent risks.

There was more, but I can’t be bothered. There were lots of “to survive” callouts and whatnot. I figured, how bad could it really be? Right?

The day before our big hike, we stopped by the backcountry office within the Grand Canyon National Park. The park ranger scared us straight. Direct quote, “everyone should fear the canyon.” He also mentioned that temps would reach 130 degrees.

It felt like we were in the documentary Scared Straight or something. After we asked a bunch of questions, we made our way back to our campground that night. We stayed at Ten X which is right outside the park and only a 15 minute drive to the Bright Angel Trailhead. It was cheap, quiet and super chill. I recommend it for sure.

After our chats with the friendly ranger, we pushed up our departure time for hike. We were now going to be on the trail by 3:30am. Yes, AM. Which meant we had to quietly wake up/pack up our tent around 3. Challenge accepted. Luckily the campground wasn’t full and the sites weren’t super close. We made it to the backcountry parking lot and finished packing up our backpacks with stuff we needed to survive the 9.5 mile hike into the canyon. Oh, and the 9.5 mile out.

With our trusty headlamps, we were off. We went deep from the top of that dark, dark rim. That’s what she said.

There’s something so eerily peaceful about hiking during the dark. You can’t look ahead and think “fuck, we  have so much more to go,” you just focus on each step. Carefully. And as the sun starts to come up after you’ve been hiking for an hour or so, you think, YES! But no. The heat is on.

You keep remembering things the ranger said, like if you are at X point by 9am, stop. Don’t keep hiking. Hunker down and wait until 4pm. You see the sun slowly start to work its way down into the canyon. It’s following you. Like a creeper.

And yes, we started ALL the way at the top of that rim in the above photo. Little did we know, we had thousands of more feet to descend. Bright Angel Trail is a trail to make all the other trails jealous. It has plenty of shade, drinking water every 1.5 miles or so, bathrooms and rest houses. It truly is a lifesaver type of trail.

We didn’t take too many breaks as we wanted to get to our campground as quickly as possible before the heat became deadly. For real. We would pass people on the way out, that started WAY too late for their hike out and all I could think of is “WTF is wrong with you?” Silent judgement aside, we would stop for water and trail-mix breaks paired with salt tablets (no joke). Oh and shitty-tasting Quest Bars. Don’t get those. They are awful. Sorry, Linds.

Onward/downward we go. The ranger warned us about a spot on the hike called the Devil’s Corkscrew. Now I usually love all things involved with the word ‘corkscrew’ but this…this, was a doozy. He said this can be the hottest part of the trail and so you should definitely not be on it during 10am-4pm. I don’t have a pic of it, but this is what Google Images provides. It’s switchback hell but also utterly breathtaking. It’s a Lifetime Original waiting to happen. When you’re hiking in and reach it, you think “well, maybe that’s a different trail…it seems too far away.” Well, it’s not. And once you go one direction, you have to go back the other. Fact.

Luckily, we made it through the Devil’s Corkscrew around 6:30am. But don’t be fooled, the sun was still out and it was getting toasty. So we kept on moving.

The last 1.5 miles seemed to be the longest. You are hiking through sand. Where’s the beach? You are right along the raging Colorado River and cross a semi-scary, yet super-sturdy bridge to FINALLY reach the campground.

So. Close. Just right around the rocky mountain thingy.

And then, we made it. We. Made. It. The hike to our actual spot ended up being a sweaty 10 miles from the top of the rim. We were some of the first people to the bottom, so we picked a site right by the river. Which is also a lifesaver. So what did we do next? We sat in it.

After hanging our bags of course. The campsite requires it since they have pesky squirrels and other animals that LOVE digging through your shit.

This was by far my favorite campground ever. I’m not sure if it was because it was SO much work to get to or that it was just stunning, but I loved it. Another great thing is that Phantom Ranch is a mere 5 minute walk away.

You can book (months in advance) cabins at Phantom Ranch, but cabins are for the weak. Fortunately you can go there and sit for hours in their semi air-conditioned canteen and order snacks and beer/wine. So we did. And we played cheater-type Scrabble. I’m pretty sure I got away with the word “vag” and then we debated about whether it should be spelled “vag” or “vaj”…thoughts? Craig got “queef” for the win.

And no, Craig isn’t drunk in this pic. We had two drinks. We are just for-the-love-of-god tired. How is it only 11am? After a few hours, we headed back to our side of the creek. Oh and would you look at the temp? I shit you not.

Oh dear lord, get back in the motherfucking water. I drank so much water that day, I felt like I was going to turn into a bubble and just pop. Later that afternoon, they came around to check our permit. I wondered what would happen if you didn’t have one? Would they be like…

I mean, it’s a long way home. But we had a permit, so NBD. After chatting with the park ranger he told us to get a “scarily early departure time” the next day. So, we did. We went to bed at 8:30pm and woke up at 1:45am. Again, quietly packed up our tent and started the journey out. We are such party animals.

I was totally happy to be on the trail hiking 3+ hours before the sun came up. Because the sun doesn’t fuck around. And I can still see the trail with my headlamp. Behind this sign is the river. Or a cliff. Or mountain lions. Who knows?

Plus, going up Devil’s Corkscrew when you can’t see the top is for the best. I mean, really. It honestly didn’t seem bad because we could only see 5 feet in front of us.

But then the sun came up and fucks with your will to live. You could see the top of the canyon and think “holy shit balls, I have a long way to go and I’ve already been hiking for 3 hours.” You also pass people on the way down and they tell you lies about how “you are so close to the top.” Fuck you. We have 1.5 miles of sheer elevation to go. What do you know? Then you get to the top and see this.

Like for real. We climbed all of that (and then some). That deep canyon has folds upon folds you can’t even see. You feel like the ultimate badass. Because you are. Then you get to the very top and drop your pack and fall on the ground because you did it.

No more climbing. After 20 miles, 2 days of waking up before 2:30am, 6,345 elevation gain, and a total of almost 7.5 hours of hiking…we were done.

This by far was the best/hardest hike we’ve done. It made all other hikes before it look like child’s play. And at the end, our clothes all had white sweat rings due to salt loss…even though we took rehydration pills 4 times throughout the hike.

Now where’s the nearest bar and who can carry me because I can’t feel my legs?

Post hike? We meet a man name Bryce and he shows us his Canyon in Utah. Wait for it…wait for it…