Autumn Adventure Music

What I'll be listening to on all of my Autumn adventures.

Old Pine -- Ben Howard

My Girls -- Animal Collective

Hopeless Wanderer -- Mumford & Sons

Ragged Wood -- Fleet Foxes

Lucid Dreams -- Terra Lightfoot

Burn That Broke Bed -- Iron & Wine, Calexico

Hiram Hubbard -- Among The Oak & Ash

Lover of The Light -- Mumford & Sons

Tangerine -- First Aid Kit

The Plains/Bitter Dancer -- Fleet Foxes

Mayla -- Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeroes
Casmir Pulaski Day -- Sufjan Stevens

All I Can Say -- David Crowder

Jerome, Sedona, Arizona

It has been a seasonal tradition between me and my boyfriend to take a day trip to another area of Arizona at least once every three months. This time, I absolutely insisted he keep our location a secret. I wanted no knowledge of where we were going--half of the fun is in the surprise!
We started off heading north on the I-17, which is how we usually start our day trips.
By the time we were in Prescott Valley, Daniel had told me that we weren't going to Prescott, or Prescott Valley, nor were we going through Prescott. "I wouldn't say we're going through Prescott, because we're not going further west than Prescott," he said. I sat, silent, thinking. "You should know where we're going." I had no clue.
Right as we were passing Watson Lake, he needed directions and help with navigation, so he had to tell me where we were going. We were going to Jerome! I was so excited. The last time I was in Jerome, I was seven, and it was a relatively boring trip with my parents. But this promised something more exciting, because I was accompanied by my love.
Arizona 89A, from Prescott to Jerome, was not my friend. My stomach grew increasingly more upset (as did I) as Daniel took the turns on the side of the mountain at upwards of 40 miles per hour. His excuse? "Sebastian (the Subaru) can take it!" Sure, the car can take it, but my stomach can not.
I sighed with relief when we climbed the last hill to the parking lot where we left our picnic goodies, the car, and the umbrella.

Jerome was much more busy than I would have expected, with a rumbling main street, full of Volkswagen cars and motorcycles. We began our town tour at the old car shop, which was now a museum. It had all sorts of interesting information about the use of cars in Jerome, and how the closing of the Phelps-Dodge sector of the mine in the 1950's thoroughly did the town in. Thankfully, people came back eventually, and turned Jerome into the quaint art mecca that it is today.

Speaking of art, since when were kaleidoscopes coming back into style? After the museum, we strolled two shops down, and entered the Nellie Bly II. I was drawn in because I had just learned that Nellie Bly was the first female investigative reporter, hired by Pulitzer in the late 1800's. I wondered what related to her could possibly be in Jerome, and the answer is nothing. Expecting to enter an old newspaper shop, I was greeted by kaleidoscopes.

Kaleidoscope of faces.

Everywhere. Small kiddie ones, like the one I had growing up, and ginormous intricate cast-iron ones, ones on necklaces, and others costing over $1,000. I looked at them, slightly afraid I might break one, touched them gingerly, and didn't really do much playing. That is, until one of the shopkeepers walked up to me and asked if I had taken a picture of the inside of one yet. "Is that allowed? May I?" I asked. She laughed, and assured me I would be alright taking a photo inside one. So, I did, and this is what I came up with.
Nellie Bly set a high standard for all the other shops we then visited. A few were beautiful, but not fun, and a few were fun, but not particularly beautiful. There were plenty of glass shops where a paperweight cost upwards of $200, which was beautiful but not fun. Those were boring after a while, but then we happened upon a glass blowing studio.
We arrived slightly after the first demonstration had begun. An older man, with dark gray hair and a really great beard, was pulling a glowing red bulb out of the fire. He continued then to shape it into what I assumed was a pear, because there was a gutted china cabinet not far away full of colorful glass pears.

Very cute, indeed.

He showed us how to shape a pear in a glass fire, if we ever were to become glass-blowing apprentices. His demonstration ended with his listing of the average cost for electricity ($1,000 monthly) but assured us he wouldn't be doing this unless he was rich, and then asked us to donate any change we had to the Jerome Animal Shelter. What a nice guy.
I'm not quite sure where we went from there. I remember seeing a few abandoned buildings (my love), and ending up in a candy store (the candy was kinda stale) then a coffee shop. Well, it was more than a coffee shop. It was the Flatiron Cafe and Flat. It was a coffee shop that sold Intelligentsia coffee. Daniel was rather happy that he found a qualified coffee shop (somewhere between a regular shop and a third wave shop) in the middle of nowhere, and I was extremely flattered by the hipster barista man who seemed very interested in me. We ordered our drinks, and enjoyed them in shop.
My soy chai latte was good, but not as good as the one I can order at Jobot. Soy chai lattes are quickly becoming my grading standard for coffee shops, because I am usually disappointed when I buy a basic cup of coffee, and you really can't judge a coffee shop by their basic latte or cappuccino.
I finished my chai latte, and we decided it was time for lunch. There was a romantic hatchback picnic waiting for us in Sebastian the Subaru. We split a loaf of French bread, some Swiss cheese that didn't pair well with our sopressatta, and something to drink. As we nibbled on our traditional French lunch, it began to sprinkle, and a little puppy named Simba came to visit us. His owners, another couple picnicking a few cars down, continually had to run and pick him up. Apparently our food was better than theirs.

Novio y Mochilla

We took another quick stroll through Jerome, this time on the uppermost of the streets. We stopped in an olive oil and balsamic vinegar shop, which Daniel recognized as a part of a chain, with locations in Sedona as well as other places. Nonetheless, I got a sample of some white peach flavored vinegar, and it made for a delicious dessert. We then walked all the way to the Grand Jerome Hotel, which was a bit of a bummer. I was hoping for a ghost tour, but they were only offered at night and to guests. By then, it was nearly 3 pm, so we stopped at a store we had previously visited to buy a handsome adventuring backpack for Daniel, and we headed down the mountain for Cottonwood.
We stopped in Cottonwood, tried to sort out a malfunction with Daniel's debit card, realized it was pointless to do it then (no banks were open nearby), and headed to Sedona.
 Sedona was as wonderful as always. There were a few farmers/art markets that were set up to benefit the animal shelter (what is with these people and their animal shelters.) We saw lots of pretty things, but didn't have cash to spend on them. We decided, then, our sole purpose of going to Sedona was to find a bumper sticker for the Subaru. We walked around for an hour or two, but we didn't find a single one that was worthy of being placed on Sebastian's rear end. I did, however, find a nifty Mae West quote sticker, as well as two necklaces (binoculars and a captain's wheel) to join my collection.
Soon after we left Sedona, we passed another art market in Oak Creek. We stopped, looked, and left, for I had already taken a Dramamine. I slept the majority of the ride back home, enjoying Young the Giant in the background, and the hum of Sebastian's tires against the road.

A Case of Wanderlust

The term wanderlust is in the Classic Merriam-Webster Dictionary. It is from Germanic roots, combining the words "wandern" and "lust" (to wander and to desire). And tonight, I realized I am not the only person in the world who is struck by this phenomena.
My desire to explore the ends of the earth was unleashed two summers ago, in 2011, when I first set foot in the Euro-zone. It was my senior year graduation gift, a trip to France, Spain, and Morocco with two of my best friends, Rebecca and Bailey.
Well, now that I consider it, I suppose the real awakening of my wanderlust was in eighth grade, when I visited Los Angeles on a three day weekend for a missions trip amongst homeless people. It was exhilarating, spending time in a different city, far from my family, among tall buildings and rushing cars. I had never been to a city that size, and it was entirely amazing in every aspect. There were moments when we were in danger, but were too young to notice. It was the awakening of my wonderful desire to travel.
That seed of wanderlust was planted, and grew into a desire to visit LA again. I did, the spring of my Sophomore year of high school, to work with the homeless--adults as well as youth. It was wonderful, but I wanted more. The summer after my Junior year, I embarked upon my first adventure with my dear friend Rebecca, whom I often call Becca. We boarded an airplane to Washington, D.C. to meet with a church group who had driven from Missouri to do (you guessed it) mission work.
The trip was wonderful, even though we spent as much time waiting in the van as we did helping battered women, foreclosed families, and impoverished children.
But all this domestic travel was starting to get to me. It was time to go somewhere overseas. In the summer of 2011, there was going to be a trip to Europe, led by my favorite English Grammar teacher, Elizabeth DeArcos. Long story short, Becca and I both signed up for it, as did a few of our other friends, and we left for Paris on May 30, 2011--sans Ms. DeArcos, because she just had a baby.
We traveled, and we looked, and we sight-saw, and we were free.
We were free, but we didn't do anything dumb. That is how I define my wanderlust.
So, as I sat on the couch and watched The Learning Channel's newest show "Breaking Amish," I admired the four Amish people, and one Mennonite woman, who followed their dreams and broke off from their families (expecting the inevitable shunning) to visit the large New York City. I felt more than admiration, though. I felt respect. I was happy for them, doing exactly what I want to do. I feel a sick sense of vicarious living for them. I wished, for a second, I was Amish, and selected by TLC to go on an all-expenses paid trip to NYC to find myself, my birth parent, my future job, whatever. I just want an excuse to travel.
I don't want to sit at my desk in my room anymore, recounting trips past. I want to purchase an airplane ticket and go somewhere, and talk about my experience from that location.
I lust to wander.

Allentown, Pennsylvania

May 30, 2012

Eva (aka Jenellie, I will use these names interchangeably) is one of my oldest friends. We met in seventh grade, when she moved to Phoenix from Michigan. Throughout our years of school together, you could always count on us to wreak havoc and cause drama. Thankfully, and regrettably, she moved away from Phoenix at the end of our Junior year, when she went to England and regions of Asia to be a missionary. She is an extraordinary young woman, so I boarded an airplane on May 30 to visit her in her new town of Allentown, Pennsylvania. I enjoyed my traditional pre-flight Starbucks drink, and boarded the plan with the rest of my first-class companions. I enjoyed an in-flight breakfast, extra wide chairs, and a nice business man next to me, who engaged in small talk about my college, the book I was reading, and my Philadelphia plans. Six or so hours later, I was greeted by Eva and her mother at the end of the terminal, where they bought me a bag of chips, a soda, and warned me that dinner would be late.
May 31
It was a Thursday, and was also decidedly my day to rest and relax and become acquainted with the Pennsylvania time zone. It was a glorious day, spent on the most comfortable bed I have ever sat my butt on (Eva has a wonderful bed from Ikea. I've coveted it for our entire friendship.), watching 24, the popular tv show.

Ready for the movie!

Two episodes in, we decided the goal of our vacation together was to finish the entire first season of 24. I believe we watched 4 episodes, the entirety of disk 1, that day. I napped through episode 4.
After, we decided to go see the midnight premier of Snow White and the Huntsman, the creative spinoff of Snow White where Kristin Steward cheated on her vampire husband with the director. All in all, we found the movie to be quite wonderful, but the 20-minute drive back to her house at 2 am was priceless, because I know all of her buttons, and at 2 am, I thought it was a good idea to push them. Eva expressed her annoyance by turning off the radio, and blasting the air conditioning.

June 1
I fell asleep around 3 am, only to wake up at 6 and go to a "volunteer appreciation" breakfast, because Eva worked at an inner-city school during the year. I really had no need to be there, but it was great, because it was the only real bacon and eggs I had during my trip, and I got to watch a little kid (5th grade) rap an awesome inspirational song that I don't remember right now.
The rest of Friday was spent--you guessed it--laying on Jenellie's bed, watching 24, because tomorrow was to be spent in New York City!
(Side note: We went to a local amusement park called Dorney Park--it was combo water and amusement park. Eva's friend Michelle accompanied us, and we had a wonderful (if freezing) time--I just don't remember which day this happened on. I'm feeling it may have been the First or the Third, but I'm not 100% sure. All I know is that it was fun--traipsing around in our bikinis in the middle of Pennsylvania. I even got to pretend I was an employee, and snuck into the employee cafeteria after Eva and Michelle, who are both actually employees on Fridays, and we ate yummy amusement park food for a small portion of the price. Simply, we had a good time.)
June 2
We woke up before we were ready to. It was at 7 in the morning, but we were up late the night before, visiting Jenellie's co-workers at Chick-Fil-A.  We piled in the car, with fruit in our purses and toast in our laps. I slept the entire way through Pennsylvania and New Jersey, and woke up when we were going over the bridge into New York. What a sight! I'd never been in a city so big, bustling, and dense. It amazed me that there were signs posted "No Honking, $300 Fine." The streets were all one way, and seemed confusing, but Eva's mom knew where we were going--a multi-story garage where we left the minivan all day as we walked around the Big Apple.
First, we stopped by all the large television broadcast stations. I was able to see Thirty Rockefeller (NBC), the corner where the Today Show is filmed, as well as the Fox National News weather broadcast. I was even able to meet the meteorologist, and watched him (live!) as he commented on the scorching hot weather I had left behind in Phoenix. After he was off the air, I was able to shake his hand (tell him I was attending Walter Cronkite School of Journalism), and learned that he was from Prescott, Arizona! Even though I'm not a major fan of Fox's news, it was still a wonderful experience to meet someone who is on national TV daily.
After our encounter with Mr. Meteorologist Guy, I ate my pear before it became too squished in my bag, and we stopped by a French bakery, snagged some goodies, and walked on. The macaroon I bought was heavenly. Before I knew it, we were on 5th Avenue, where I was able to see all the big stores--Sak's (which is really just called Sak's there, not "Sak's Fifth Avenue"), H&M, Hollister, Coach, as well as some even bigger names I don't remember. We also stopped inside St. Patrick's Cathedral to look around, but a graduation was occurring. A graduation. In St. Patrick's. I wish I could have graduated somewhere cool like that...
Our stroll down 5th Avenue ended at Central Park, where I posed the question, "Where do the ducks go when the pond freezes?" I was disappointed when Jenellie, her mother, and her father all showed blank expressions, and tried to give real answers. Does anyone read good books these days?
We took some photos in the park, on a bridge, by a gate--the basics. It was really beautiful, though. I stopped to think a few times, how glorious it is, a full 843 acres (thank you Wikipedia) in the middle of the city, lush and green, and beautiful.
In full New York fashion, we soon hurried out of central park on to the next adventure--a sort of Saturday Market down one of the other numerical avenues. Eva found enough scarves to satiate her needs, while her mother knocked out her Christmas shopping list purchasing scarves for all the ladies at her church group. I didn't really find much at this public market; I was too anxious and excited for the upcoming subway ride.
The subway we took went from downtown to Chinatown/Little Italy. The subways were much cleaner than my mother made them out to be (she is obsessed with all the rats found in NYC. Ob-sessed.), and there were postings of "raticide" application at the far end of each track, where they were basically unreadable. I assume that was done because, a) law requires signs to be posted, and b) if anyone actually could read what the signs said, they would evacuate the subway. But, hey, it was a fun experience, and the stench of rat poison went away as soon as you got in the subway. I, personally, was rather impressed with the art inside the subway. Anyway, the ride was quick, and before I knew it, we were off the subway and walking around Chinatown, on our way to SPQR, an authentic and delicious Italian restaurant in the Italian district.

The walk was filled with the scent of fish, and Chinese characters. I pretended like I could read them, but goodness knows I couldn't. We walked straight, turned a few corners, and we were at SPQR, where we all ordered delicious Italian dishes. The lunch talk was filled with yawns, and discussions of current plans. It was nearly 2 pm, and we were all tired. We decided to head to the boat tour, and battery park, an hour earlier than our tickets were posted for, but it was no issue--they let us on the earlier boat with no problem.
From the harbor tour boat, I was able to see the Statue of Liberty for the first time, as well as Ellis Island, where my Great-grandfather Dragutin Kalcich came over from Croatia. Sadly, all I wanted to do on that boat ride was fall asleep. I was absolutely exhausted. We all agreed that it was time to head back to the van, after a stop at the large M n' M store, where Eva bought $15 worth of M 'n M's. It was a chocolate party.
I quickly fell asleep once we were in the car, and I honestly don't remember anything else about that day except how good it felt to sleep.
June 3
Sunday was a bum day, too. Jenellie's Dad is a pastor, and her mom is a prominent womanly leader in the church, but we didn't attend Sunday morning services. We slept in late, ate lunch, and watched more 24! We were probably on episode 13 by the time we left for the brand-new 6:43 pm church service. It was a nice service, definitely the first service at that hour of the day, and I probably paid more attention to the rain pouring on the gym roof than the pastor preaching, because I remember how loud the rain was, but don't really remember what the lesson was. I do remember the after party, where there were chicken wings, bleu cheese dressing, and really yummy smoothies. Jenellie made a few new friends, and we played Catch Phrase together, where I officially embarrassed her by answering her question, "Amanda, how do I drive?" with "Terribly." Thankfully, everyone found it hilarious, we laughed, and went home when it closed up at 9:30 pm. And slept.
June 4
Intercourse. Pennsylvania. Oops, sorry. Intercourse, Pennsylvania. It's a city filled with the Amish, small boutiques, and adorable scenery. We spent an hour and a half driving there, and spent an equal hour and a half browsing the shops, fudge store, and sitting staring at a field.
It was a perfect time to kick back and simply enjoy the beautiful scenery that Pennsylvania offers, as well as learn a lesson.
A lot of houses in the country prominently display metal stars by their door, over their windows, at the apex of their house, wherever. I wanted to know why, so I kept my eyes peeled for the stars while we were in stores. Eventually, I found one. Turns out the stars are symbolic of a perfect family structure. The top point is representative of God. The two middle points are representative of parents, because they are supposed to look up to and obey God. The two lower points represent children, as children are supposed to obey their parents as well as God. It was nice to see some old-time Christianity in the back country of the USA.
Eva quickly became bored with the quaint town, and urged we go home. I didn't want to argue with her, it was her gas we used to get there, and her gas we were going to use to get back--how soon she wanted to use it was completely up to her.
June 5
I got the picnic I had been asking for the entire week. We packed sandwiches, blueberries, and some other goodies and headed out to Trexler Nature Preserve, near Jenellie's community college. We sat on a bench, while Eva froze to death, and I enjoyed my sandwich and blueberries in the glorious outdoors that God created.
I wanted to go on a hike, but Eva pleaded, begged, kicked, and screamed, to go back to the car. So we compromised--an hour exploratory car ride through the back roads of Trexler(town?), Pennsylvania. We may have become a little lost, but we eventually made our way back to her house safe and sound, after seeing many nifty covered bridges. We continued our tradition of finishing the day with a few episodes of 24, and before we knew it, we were done with the entire first season! It was beautiful, and then she made me watch Glee. Which was better than I expected, but still disappointing after the first few episodes.
June 6

We spent most of the day talking, reminiscing, and enjoying our friendship. We talked about her decision to return to England for mission work (this coming January!), my love life, our friendship, our futures. I boarded the plane with sadness, but without regrets. I had an excellent adventure in Pennsylvania, with a dear friend. I certainly would not have traded this trip for anything in the world, especially because I don't know when I shall see Eva next.

The Grand Canyon

May 3, 2012
This trip really began back in February, after my former youth pastor, Rhea, and her husband returned from a trip to the Grand Canyon. She had many positive things to be said about the two day trek she, Brandon, and her mother had adventured upon, so I felt it was necessary to suggest she take us, her loyal college group, on the same tour of the canyon. Of course, she agreed.
The date was set for the first weekend after completing my Freshman year of college. Thankfully, I had my trusty backpack from my trip to France, Spain, and Morocco in 2011, and it had been eagerly packed in the weeks preceding the trip down the canyon.
We took a church van up to the South Rim of the canyon, and camped at the top Thursday night. Everyone brought an extra sleeping bag, and larger, warmer tents for camping up there--it was freezing! Before bed, we made our peanut butter, jelly, chia seed sandwiches that would provide sustenance in the canyon. It was messy, it was beautiful. We lit a campfire and made s'mores as well, and talked about our summer plans.
Looking at the faces around the campfire, I realized I was surrounded by some of my most trusted friends. Ben, who I had known since I was three, looked like a true mountain man in a flannel shirt, knit hat, and long underwear. PJ, who was nearly as close to me at one point in time as a brother in law, mature and levelheaded as always, listened intently to all words spoken. Brandon, foremost silent, spoke jokes occasionally in hushed tones. Rhea, my beautiful youth pastor, who guided me through the awkwardness of middle school and the friendship perils of high school, smiled and laughed loudly as Becca and I made our customary jokes. Becca, sweet Becca, my friend since eighth grade, partner in crime since seventh--she was on this trip as my buddy. We were never going to leave one another's side. One, because we didn't want to get lost in the canyon; two, because I would never let a stupendous friend like her leave my side.
May 4
Our early morning wake up call included Rhea returning from the bathroom, yelling "Brandon! Brandon!" in hushed tones. We groggily climbed out of our tents--it was hard to sleep with such excitement awaiting us the next morning--and saw an elk! He was peaceful, only munching on patches of grass, not out to harm anyone. He was a wonderful item of creation to observe. Before long, the rest of the campground brought their children, wives, husbands, friends, and lovers to see this wild sight so early in the morning.
We ate a quick, healthy, and fatty breakfast--breakfast burritos, made with chorizo, eggs, potatoes, and some hot sauce. Pretty tasty, and great for pre-hike. Before we knew what was happening, our teeth were brushed, our packs finalized, and we were back in the van to head out for the South Kaibab Trail.
The travel from the campground to the trail-head is a little fuzzy in my brain--I remember a 20 minute drive, a 15 minute shuttle ride, and a 5 minute line for an open-pit toilet Rhea insisted we "all use before the hike." She's been a serious advocate of peeing before any long activity ever since the incident on the way to Church camp in 2008. Much to my chagrin, I used the facilities. Becca graciously took my photo afterwards, when my face had returned to smiling. I pointed with glee at what was the parking lot...and beyond that, the Grand Canyon.
 My 25 pound pack felt light as a feather, in the realization that I was doing what many people dream of--I was about to hike the Grand Canyon.
Oh, what I should have known before starting: 3 Liters is the perfect amount for the 7 mile hike down South Kaibab. Wearing a white hat should be discouraged. That sweatshirt? Unnecessary in 10 minutes.
And so it began, the most excruciating, rewarding, ethereal experience of my summer. I insisted we begin the hike with a group picture. I hanged my 7 year old Casio point-and-shoot camera off a tree branch, and it took the full 10 seconds of auto-time for it to stop spinning in circles. PJ, Ben, Becca, Me, Rhea, and Brandon, stood on the edge of the canyon, waiting eagerly to start the hike of our lives.
It was a beautiful view, even before we took our first steps together. The Grand Canyon looked like a cake, with multiple tiers in different colors. It was glorious, and even as I walked down the first switchbacks, I had a difficult time believing I was actually doing this.
Before long, though, I fully understood the magnitude of the situation. It was warming up quickly, and the 7.1 miles from the top of South Kaibab trail to the Bright Angel campground became painfully long. I didn't bring a hiking stick with me, as did nobody else in our group. I also forgot my knee compression wrap. By the fifth mile, I was nearly in tears. Thankfully, Becca had brought a cold compression wrap. It was nice and cold, but not very compressive. We sat down for a while, Next summer, I will certainly bring knee braces, and hiking sticks.
Before long, we were crossing the black suspension bridge, and we were almost to our camp ground. We were finally at the same elevation as the bottom of the canyon, which is only about 1,000 feet higher than Phoenix! All three of us girls stopped at the nearest camping site, while the boys went and found another one right by the Bright Angel creek. They came back, and carried our pack to the new camp ground. As we emptied the food from our bags (the squirrels are vicious down there), I spread out over the picnic table and began to take a nap as everyone else moseyed down to the creek. I decided to join them in a bit. When I came back,  a squirrel had chewed through the zipper on my backpack, and devoured half of the lanyard with my car keys on it. Why? I spilled coffee on it a week before, and it smelled like food. Frustrated with the evil squirrels, I spread out my sleeping mat and took a nap, while Ben proceeded to throw arrowheads over me.
They awoke me when it was time for dinner. I woke up, groggy, and nibbled on an instant meal (Just add water--we promise it'll taste as good as cardboard!) The park ranger came by, checked our camping permit, and gave us the low down. There was a presentation of ghost stores at the amphitheater at 7 pm, and we all decided to go. Turned out, they weren't all ghost stories, but we did learn about many people who died in the Grand Canyon and were never found, like Glen and Bessie Hyde. After the spooky stories, we went on a scorpion hunt, mostly for the kids in the audience. (There were seven-year-olds who hiked down! Seven! It was crazy!) Now more awake, after realizing there were scorpions near by, we went down to the ranger station/store and enjoyed some candy, and each other's company. Then, at 9, we decided to call it a night. We all put on our pajamas, washed our faces, brushed our teeth. Becca, Ben and I stayed up (and out of our tents, for Becca and I). I refused to go to bed until after I saw a shooting star.
There I was, laying under a clearing in our camp site, on the picnic table. Birds were singing, even though it was at night. The stars were beautiful, and Becca and I talked in hushed tones as not to wake anyone. After twenty minutes, I saw my shooting star, and went in to the tent. I fell asleep before 9:45 pm.
May 5

It's a good thing I fell asleep so early, because we all awoke equally early the next morning. Everyone was up, with tents packed, water bladders filled, and food consumed by 7 am. We had an even longer hike to face today. My muscles ached, arguably more than anyone else's. The hike today was a bit over 9 miles, from Bright Angel campground to the start of the trail-head. I found it to be much more beautiful than the South Kaibab trail, but it was also longer and much more strenuous. It was all uphill! Which meant it did not hurt my knees as much, but Becca and I certainly stopped much, much more. I have no problem with how often we stopped, though. It gave us extra time to enjoy the beautiful canyon around us. We hiked alongside the rest of the group until the first stop. Then Ben stayed back with us, as we moseyed through the turns of the paths. We stopped, dipped our shirts in the river like the ranger had told us to (wet shirts prevent overheating), and caught up with everyone else around the corner. From that point on, Becca and I were on our own, with the other four waiting for us at each restroom stop just to be sure we were still alive and okay.
Because Becca and I were hiking alone, we made friends with other hikers who traveled at the same pace as us. There was a group of two fathers, who had been friends for a long time, and they treated us like daughters. They made sure we were well watered, and that we ate something from our granola bar stash every hour. There was also a group with a gray-haired man guiding a few of his friends through the canyon, and they provided someone nice to talk to each time we caught up with them.
Rhea, Brandon, Ben and PJ were happy to see us at each of the restroom stops, but we certainly weren't happy to see the restroom cleaners at each of the stops. Apparently the grumpy restroom keeper hiked at the same pace as us. (Then again, if I had to clean poop out of the Grand Canyon week after week, I'd be grumpy too. You should see how much fiber hikers eat!) By the last mile and a half, after the rest house, we made a habit of stopping everyone who looked like a hardcore hiker on their way down, and asking them how much longer to the top, how long they had been hiking for. In a 60 minute span, three groups had said "twenty minutes, no more." I'm not sure if they were hiking fast, or lying, because it took for-ever to reach the top. My theme words became "Becca, we're almost there. Keep going."
By the end of the hike, I don't think either of us would have made it to the top without encouragement from the other. It felt so wonderful to be able to look down at the canyon in the end, and say "We did that. We just hiked that." All the memories from the past day rushed through my head...all the times I swore "I'm doing this again next summer!" in the first three miles, and all of the times I cursed "I. Am. NEVER. Doing this again." in the last five miles.
Clearly, we made it to the top, congratulations abounding from Rhea, Ben, PJ, and Brandon. Rhea expressed that she had even become a bit worried about us, since we took so long. We ate at the restaurant at the lodge, and hopped in the van for the long ride back to Phoenix, where Ben drove Becca and I to my house. We all hopped in the shower (swimsuits on) and rinsed the thick coat of red dirt from our skin, then proceeded to dive into the pool. It felt wonderful on our sore muscles.
As I floated on my back and looked at the stars, I was reminded that this trip was wonderful, something many people only dream of--and I couldn't have been more fortunate to go with such an encouraging and thoughtful group.