Of Storms and Canyons (Part 6)

Hiker with Poncho, Tonto Trail | Mark Lindsay

The second night at Hermit Rapids was way more restful than the first. My brain was slowing down and acclimating to the natural stimulation and cadence of the canyon. I was getting used to living the nomad life in a tent. The weather was still unsettled so the tent cover was still on during the second night but we'd figured out a way to get fresh air circulating while we slept. I drifted off effortlessly.

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The Voice of the Tonto

Tonto Trail with Cloud | Mark Lindsay

There are spots on the Tonto Trail where the path fades to nothing. Experienced guides tell us to follow the path of least resistance, it's where the Tonto always goes. In the constant heat of this rolling plateau—halfway between Grand Canyon rim and Colorado River—the trail morphs into a sentient being. If it were a person, it would be skinny. Very skinny. I find myself talking aloud to the Tonto. Curiously, it talks back.

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Alone on the Tonto

Tonto Trail | Mark Lindsay

Long, rocky, ankle-twisting. The descent down the Hermit Trail in Grand Canyon feels a bit like torture. It's not the first rock that gets you. Somewhere around boulder #500 the legs start to scream. There are nine rock slides that obscure the now-forgotten trail. The Park Service is quick to tell you that it hasn't maintained the blasted path since 1931. It shows. The trip is slow. The trail disappears often.

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