Grand Canyon: Bright Angel Trail to Plateau Point

By Emma Hesselsweet | November 16, 2021

My eyes were groggy and I sat up, shivering. My teeth chattered, and I looked around. My gaze fell on my brother. His eyes were shut, and he was rhythmically breathing slow, tired breaths. I got out of my bed, and peeked through the curtain that separated my brother and I’s room from the main living room. My parents were still asleep. I had better go back to bed.

Our provisions in the early morning dark. Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, Pop Tarts, candy, granola bars, salty snacks like chips and nuts, gatorade. We carried something like 4000 calories per person, and 12 liters of water capacity (even though it was cold at the South Rim in November). There was also a place where you could refill water bottles at Indian Gardens.

I woke for the second time, to the soft whispers of my parents packing, and talking. For a minute I wondered, and the next minute, memories of the day before flashed back into my mind. We had discussed doing the longest hike we had ever done, from the South Rim of the Grand Canyon all the way down to the Colorado River (or maybe Plateau Point depending on how we felt). We had decided to do it, so my mom and dad had probably woken before sunrise; we hoped to catch a good view, and try to come back before sunset. I came into the room, and got an array of wake up hugs and kisses. I helped them pack, and woke up my brother, Graham.

Half an hour later, we arrived at the Bright Angel trailhead. I unbuckled, and got out of the car. I saw small cabins supposedly where rangers lived. I heard the slam of my brother’s door, and then remembered to close my own. My family came around to my side of the car, chattering as they did. “It’s super cold, ” I shivered. My mom had her coat pulled up to her chin, my dad had like, four layers, and my brother, of course, was wearing his famous orange patagonia puff coat. I was wearing a layer of wool against my skin, then hiking pants, and a windbreaker. I even had my Yellowstone hat, which was yellow, with a pom-pom. We walked on, our teeth chattering, and layers pulled tight against our skin. My arms were held close together, trying to keep in their small amount of heat. We came to a sidewalk, with buses passing us on the road. In front of us, there was a ramp. It led up to a trailhead. The bright angel trailhead.

At the start of the hike! It was about 6 or 7 am here. We got a pretty early start.

Half an hour later…

Some of our first views of the Grand Canyon, taking it all in. The trail was very steep, with mule poop everywhere. “Muscles over Mules!” we cried.

You can see the trail we are taking down into the canyon. The pale trail continues all the way out to a point called Plateau Point which you can just barely see in the middle of this picture.

We were going downhill, almost to a popular landmark, Indian gardens. Every so often, [or what seemed like every second], there would be a huge step down. Whenever I went down one, I would grunt at the bottom. Those grunts were very frequent. Grunt, grunt, grunt. Soon after that we got down to Indian gardens eight miles down. We sat down on a sunny bench, by a gurgling stream. We looked up in awe at the top of the hike. On this twenty mile hike, we had only come eight miles so far, but gone down about four thousand feet elevation. Indian gardens is a spot with lush trees, in the middle of desert. It is in a sunny valley, and the cause of all this vegetation is the stream running through the valley. Can we have some snacks? I asked hopefully. Everyone got out snacks;the answer was yes, and we gratefully dined on the well-packed snacks mom brought. I crunched my chip. Crunch, crunch, crunch. I’m ready now. My brother announced. We packed away our remaining snacks. And we started off.

Another half an hour later, we were on the last part of the hike, complaining about the intense heat. Despite the cold at the higher elevation of the South Rim, it got much warmer as we descended into the canyon. We had gone about ten miles and we still had the way back. My back was on fire from the shining sun. and I had a headache too, the sun had been pointing at me for so long. After what seemed like hours, we got to what would probably be called a sky island. I picked up my pace, rushing now. I stepped onto a narrow ledge, and my heart skipped a beat. I looked behind me, noticing my brother doing the same. My mom took out her phone, snapping a few photos before trying the tricky walk herself. My dad followed, and I could tell my whole family was concentrating immensely. I stepped up, and stumbled, dumbfounded at the view. Hundreds of feet below us, the colorado river loomed on it’s twisty route that it had carved itself millions of years ago. “ A river cuts through rock not because of its power, but because of its persistence.” -Jim Watkins.

We had hoped to walk all the way to the Colorado River, but we had run into several park rangers who casually interrogated us about where our turn-around point was. As the signs said, “Down is optional, up is mandatory.” It seemed they strongly discouraged people from trying to hike rim to river to rim in one day and were roaming around the trail to make sure hikers were making smart choices (some people camp at Indian Gardens or down at the river to do this hike over multiple days). So we decided to end our hike at Plateau Point and start heading back up after we had enjoyed the dramatic and probably dangerous Plateau Point.