Day 6... shooting star

I am pleased to say that I slept a whole heap better ... the $20 that I spent onthe extra sleeping bag.was.the best.$20 that I have ever spent. I was warm.. and reasonably comfortable. Unfortunately the flip side to that is that dragging myself out of bed at 6am hurt... a lot. Camp routine had fallen into place... getting up at 6am for coffee... followed by breakfast at 06:30... with.load.up in the vans around.8am. Only this morning was different as we not only had to get.ourselves sorted for a hike but we had to pack up the tents and clear out camp ready for a move to Lake Powell.

Fortunately I am used.to this sort of thing and had my kit packed.and squared away.before I had had coffee. Routines from bike rides past kicked in and it felt good to be in this simple life...
Yes it was cold.... yes I was tired... but I will never tire of going to sleep with the sound of nature around and the stars above.

After breakfast came the task of packing up the tents. A few unfortunate souls had very damp kit and these were.left out to dry as long as possible. I didn't get the memo to write our name on the tent box, so was left keeping my fingers crossed that our very well packed away tent would be returned to us.

Then off we went... attempt number 2 at descending into the Grand Canyon ... for our group via the Bright Angel Trail. We hoped that the weather was going to remain good and that the snow would stay away today. Noticeably warmer in general today, as we drive to the trailhead, signs of snow were generally absent.

We piled out, readied ourselves and set off down the trail. I remembered the initial few bends from last time and revelled in the memories if arriving last time,talking 19 to the dozen to Louize and Mark. Wether it was because I had been here before, been on this trail or wether it was because this time I hadn't earnt it... hadn't sweated my arse off to get here in time, this time felt different. Yes the views were spectacular but the almost giddy excitement at being here were palpably absent.

That's not to say that I wasn't having the greatest time. I was getting to walk in the Greatest Grandest Canyon of them all with Mike, Jules, Smiley and Billy Duffy....
It's not too bad huh.
The sky was blue, the air warm and pretty soon some of the layers were stripped off... warming up as we descended down. The Canyon itself is difficult to describe as it feels very surreal to be standing there. The size is too big to be fully comprehended... the cracks in the base of the canyon hiding the mighty Colorado River... winding its way through desert sand... then stretching up with layers of white,red, green the rock walls, stretching up to the rim (feel free to continue laughing at that word...  we all did).Once again, the unexplored depths begged me to go up close and personal, calling my name to explore the side canyons, the hidden depths...
I spent time talking to one of our guides about walking from rim to rim, a plan already forming in my mind for future adventures.

Now all trekkers will know that you cannot sustain someone else's pace... mountains dictate that you go at your own speed... soon I found myself alone, with just the crunch of my feet on the gravel, millions of years in the making.  I noticed how fresh the air felt, how many birds were singing, the little chipmunks that darted in and out of the rocks...  a welcome moment or two where my steps fell in time with the beat of nature's drum. Ironically I then caught up with Smiley, a man who makes the drums beat to his own tune. We strolled the short distance to our final point on the trail before we had to turn around and go back up.

At our end point, there was a nice collection of rocks jutting out over the edge... so I took advantage of the spectacular photo opportunity. I was soon joined by the others, and my perch became more precarious as I shuffled closer to the nice 'little'drop to make room for the rest of the group.....

Then, all to soon, we had to make the trek up. A steady gradient most of the way up, I kept a good pace, which was made to look like that of a sloth by Billy Duffy, who shot up the trail like he was on fire!!

The last 1/3 of the trail began to bite, as each bend was accompanied by steps, which stretched muscles beyond where they should go.
Despite that I got to the top and once again marvelled at the canyon in its entirety. The group had kept close and in no time at all, we were piling back into the minibus, and off again on a small road trip to Lake Powell, where we were going to set up the tents..... only this time our trek leader had taken pity on our poor snow battered group and had gone ahead to try set up all the tents for us. The fact that he only had a couple more to do by the time we got there was pretty impressive and there was more than one very grateful person. Graeme, you are totally awesome!!!!

We clubbed together as a well oiled team to finish the rest of the tents, sort out sleeping arrangements and then sat down to dinner and the evening's entertainment. Watching Mike, Billy, James, Smiley and Robin just get together and begin jamming was a sight to behold. That night around the campfire will remain forever in my memories that I hold dear. Jules pointed to the stars in the sky, reminding us to look up and as we did so, a shooting star flashed across the night sky as if in acknowledgement of our efforts so far.

I sat apart for the final few songs, as the night sky was illuminated by the moon so that the clouds glowed silver against the dark backdrop of a desert night. The chords for Breathe began to echo out, matching my reflections perfectly. Tears came to my eyes (and probably most of the others) as we sat there quietly as if in remembrance ....
In 24 hours we watched the sun rise and fall and stamped another magical memory on my soul.