The wind from yesterday continued enough to make enough noise in the trees above the tent to drown out some of the choruses from the local coyotes, but for once there was no nearby train line and the road next to our $10 plot of grass wasn’t busy. The aircon unit that was a few metres from our tent that started up for a couple of minutes every ten minutes was a little annoying, but its regular frequency eventually reduced it to nothing more than background noise. At about 2 am I woke to what sounded like rain, only to open the tent zipper to find a winter scene of light snow, giving me something to dream about for the remainder of the night.
By the time the alarm woke us up the snow had gone, but it was still bitterly cold. The wind had switched around from the south, now blowing a north westerly, although thankfully not as strong as yesterday.
The service station was open, so we headed up there as the first priority of the day, although there is a cactus in Cameron that will likely grow bigger and stronger than all others around after last night. I knew I shouldn’t have had those three soft drink refills. The service station also sold hot chocolate.
A few cars coming from the north passed through Cameron covered in snow, so it seems we got off lightly.
As we packed up the tent a toothless local called by to say hello on his way from the laundrette, the building next to our tent that the aircon unit belonged to. Billy, originally from New York, moved to Cameron 40 years ago. Noting the lack of anything in Cameron I asked what he did here, to which he replied that he was the local gardener. Now I know gardens come in all shapes and sizes, from what I managed to see of Cameron, either he is a very good gardener, able to ensure all the local gardens maintained that in touched desert scrub look, blending in seamlessly with the surrounding desert, or he didn’t get much work. As a parting comment, Billy warned us that the weather would be getting colder of the coming days, with temperatures plummeting to below zero degrees fahrenheit.
We packed up camp and headed to the Grand Canyon roundabout to get started with the day’s slog, albeit through what was going to be spectacular scenery. While the today’s distance wasn’t particularly long at 55 miles, most of that mileage was uphill, with the cycle computer taunting us of a 1400m (over 4500 ft) total climb for the day. The other challenge of the day was to restrict the number of photo stops as we would never make the distance if we weren’t careful. During the summer months we would have cut the day short and camped at the South Rim campground, just inside of the national park, but as it was closed for winter the 30-mile cycle from Cameron just to get to the park entrance would need to be followed up with a 25-mile cycle to the only open campground, the Mather Campground.
Within a few metres of leaving the roundabout, the road started to head for the sky.
Throughout the day the scenery on both sides of the road was jaw-droppingly beautiful, which helped a little to take our minds off the relentless uphill push. The few downhills were short, with any enjoyment soured by the knowledge that the few metres of lost height would have to be made up again shortly afterwards.
By the time we reached the park entrance, rather than being tired we were in the zone, with our legs going around without really thinking about it. We paid our $20 each to enter the park, noting that it would have been cheaper for us if we had a car with us, as a car with two passengers and two bikes tied to the back would have only cost us $35 in total. On mentioning this anomaly to the park warden, she suggested I contact my Congressman. Maybe I’ll write a letter to Trump when I get back to Scotland.
The view point on entering the park is Desert View, just a few minutes cycle from the park entrance. By the time we got our first glimpse of the Grand Canyon it was already after 2pm, so noting that we still had a further 25 miles to cycle we had to limit our time off the bikes. We did a very bad job at this and it was past 3pm before we remounted. It was now going to be another race against the setting sun to get to the Mather Campground before dark. We pushed on as best we could, but the sight of the Grand Canyon to our right was far too much to resist, so ended up stopping on a frequent basis.
As we approached what would be our last stop of the day before reaching our final destination we bumped into David, a fellow cycling bum. This was David’s first cycle tour and was clearly enjoying the life as much as us professionals, this being our second tour. I didn’t’ quite figure out if there was a plan to David’s route, but maybe that’s the way to do it. David was heading to the Mather Campground too, so parted expecting to see him later. We then walked over to the rim to take today’s last look at the Grand Canyon, the setting sun starting to cast a mesmerizing red hue with dark shadows, given the canyon a more three-dimensional feel than when the sun was higher in the sky. A group were standing watching the sun go down as we approached, with a lady in the group offering to take a photo of the two of us.
The Vanning family were on vacation, visiting two members of the family that now living Colorado. I have said it before, it’s a small world. The Vanning family come from Newcastle, about 15 miles from where Deborah and I grew up and about 3 miles from where Deborah’s family still live. After a quick photoshoot and a few minutes watching the colours become more defined with each passing minute, we reluctantly pulled ourselves away from the rim before we would need to cycle in complete darkness.
We reached the Grand Canyon Village just as the sun disappeared completely, with the cycle computer reading 3oC. As we followed the roadsigns to the campground we found ourselves in complete darkness, arriving at the campground just after 6 pm.
As the Park Ranger slid open his serving hatch, allowing the warmth from inside warm my hands and cheeks, confirming how cold the rest of my body was. Cash was not accepted, so I paid for two nights with my credit card, a total of $12. I asked if we could stay in the office instead, but the young round red-cheeked Park Ranger didn’t even feel that my question was worth a humorous response and promptly closed the hatch.
We had been allocated the ‘Biker and Backpacker’ site, which upon inspection was a rocky patch of forest with an occasional flat patch of stony ground big enough to pitch a small tent. Most of the ground was taken but found a space just big enough for our tent between two others, adjacent to three bear lockers and a picnic table. At least Yogi and Booboo would have somewhere to sit while trying to open them I guess.
As we put up the tent in the pitch black, a French guy came over and invited us to join their campfire when we had our tent up. With the tent erected as best, we could in the circumstance, I headed over to the fire while Deborah headed up the toilets. The French guy was cycling with a French girl and a chap from Germany (some of the time). While I really appreciated the invite to the fire we needed to eat but was interested to hear a little of their tour. They had started their cycle in Alaska six months ago and were meandering their way to Mexico or Bolivia. When Deborah arrived at the fire we wish them a good night and headed over to the Market Plaza where we had been told there was food.
As usual, the options for vegetarians was very limited, so ended up with a rather expensive 16-inch cheese pizza, a soft drink and a hot chocolate. While eating, David, the cycle touring chap that we had spoken to earlier came by our table to say hello. He had different priorities to us and hadn’t yet put his tent up, a couple of beers being needed first.
We finished our food, hung around in the warmth as long as we could without cobwebs starting to form, before heading back out into the cold for the 10 minutes walk back to our tent. The stars were visible again, albeit with a little light pollution resulting in a score from Deborah of 7 out of 10, 10 being the score of El Morro a week ago. We made it back to the tent and into our sleeping bags without succumbing to the effects of hypothermia, with the plan to get up at 6 am in order to make it over to the Grand Canyon rim in time to see the sunrise.
Great you made it and are seeing the GC. My own short stories another time.
Enjoy.