The Hike to Havasu

Almost immediately upon arriving at Hualapai Hilltop, I spent some time getting my pack organized and situated for the trail. Weighing about 38lbs, it's important before setting out on a long hike with a frame pack to make sure the weight is properly distributed. The internal frame pack I was using easily allowed for that capability through its numerous straps, pockets and pouches.

Once I had made sure that I had everything I needed and my camelpack was working properly, I locked up my car, took a few photos from the edge and began to descend nearly 1300 feet down the switchbacks and into the valley. It was immediately apparent to me that the hike back up would be a challenge, but that I'd have to deal with it when the time came. The thing about the Grand Canyon....no matter what goes down, must eventually come back up.

Honestly, the hike in was extremely relaxing. I took my time, wandering off the trail here and there to explore the remnants of old mining equipment and a few long-dead horse skeletons left to dry up in the desert. It was a rocky trail though, and there were more than a few times that I was just on the brink of rolling my ankle. You need sure footing on this trail, and a really good pair of sturdy hiking boots.

One of the highlights of walking down the trail were passing of mule trains every half hour or so. Led by a single Havasupai guide, these groups of mule (usually about 3-7 or so) haul anything from mail to supplies to hikers looking to enjoy a nice easy ride out of the canyon. Wild dogs would follow up the rear, passing and weaving between the large boulders and cacti peppered throughout the trail.

Nearly three and half hours after beginning the trail, I found myself wandering into Supai, the Havasupai Indian Village located at the bottom of the canyon. Resources here are sparse, and many of the homes are built from raw materials, somewhat shanty-style. One could say that it looks somewhat like a 3rd-world country down there, but somehow it fits. These are simple, quiet people; farmers and horsemen that have lived isolated at the bottom of this canyon for the past 800 years. It's sounds strange to say, but the village had a unique charm to it. It's not quaint by any means, but suitable for their ways of living. Mutt-like dogs (some look to be mixed with coyote and even wolf) ran wild through the village and surrounding lands, practically tame from their overexposure to people. Horses and mule would pass you in the street as well. They may have escaped their pens, which actually make up most of the village, but I've gotten the impression that unless they're marked or saddled, they're actually wild. I've encountered these animals at least half a dozen times.

After checking in at the camping office located in the middle of town, I continued down the path for another 2 miles to reach my campsite, about 250 yards past Havasu Falls itself. As you descend into the ravine, you can hear the falls roaring below you to your right. Before you know it, you're looking straight down into aquamarine pools and streams, populated by one of the most beautiful and most highly photographed waterfalls in existance. Welcome, to Havasu Falls.