We scheduled a trip to the Grand Canyon as a side trip from Las Vegas one year when my husband was there on business.
If you’ve read my column in the past or are reading for the first time, a recurring theme is that we like to be outdoors, whether it’s hiking, biking, walking, sightseeing, skiing, boating – you get the picture. So, we thought a short hike on some trails in and around the park would be fun, beautiful and exhilarating after the desert heat and artificial atmosphere that is Vegas.
It was May 2016, and apart from the clothes we brought that were suitable for Vegas, we also packed hiking shoes and socks and light sweaters for the Grand Canyon portion of the trip. What we didn’t count on was snow.
As we left behind the grit and heat of Las Vegas for a cooler climate in the mountains, we kept remarking how nice it was, how cool and refreshing. Until, drum roll…we got out of the car. And this was an hour south before rising further still into Grand Canyon National Park. I don’t remember the name of the town, but I do now own a heavy sweatshirt with “Arizona” emblazoned across it, as does Bill, which we wore continuously over three other layers for the day-and-a-half we were there. We went from 90 degrees to 20’s and 30’s in just a few hours. I’ve never felt more unprepared for weather.
Once in the park, a light snow began to fall. As we got further along the road, and visibility decreased, we knew our sweatshirts weren’t going to cut it. Short of buying new ski jackets, though, we had to make it work. Our poor little southern flesh was just going to have to freeze. We did get warm in front of a fire at The Grand Hotel – which I highly recommend for lodging and food – before venturing out that morning. As we watched the snow falling from the restaurant window, the thing we came to see – the canyon in its grandness – was not visible. So, we drank another coffee, lingered in the hotel store and generally discussed what our options were.
Deciding a hike was in order anyway, we risked hypothermia and went out around 11 a.m., knowing we could jump on a bus if the weather refused to get better. At first, (check the pictures), we saw nothing. Then, lo, the heavens opened and a window in the clouds brought the first glimpse I had of the Grand Canyon since I was 12 years old. And, of course, it’s magnificent (which is why they have more than five million visitors each year). As we progressed through the park, it got slightly warmer, and the clouds were swept away as if they hadn’t completely covered the entire canyon only an hour earlier. Adjectives like spectacular don’t do it justice, and pictures can’t really show the scope and depth (but here they are anyway).
Typically, I like to travel in colder seasons when the crowds are less. But if I go back (and I’d love to), it’s going to be in the summer, despite crowds. Now, outdoorsy types have told me that there’s no bad weather, just bad clothing. But don’t you believe it: the Grand Canyon is no place to have bad weather or bad clothing!
