From just below the Rim we had a magnificent view of the far-off San Francisco Peaks near Flagstaff. The trail was filled with flowers and flowering trees. As we dropped down we saw a cliff with a dozen cascading waterfalls on its face. Surely this meant that water was near to fill our canteens. So it was, and in short order we were at Bright Angel Creek quite a fiercely rushing stream. A teetering contraption of wire and planks which could be called a suspension bridge (the suspense came as one tried to cross it) was our means of getting to the other side. Here the trail led thru a small sandy plateau which was a garden of brilliant purple and pink cactus blooms. Camp stoves flared a mile below Ribbon Falls and the aroma of food pervaded the Canyon. The thunder of Bright Angel Creek drowned the smaller sounds of blisters being popped and the groans of the weary. As darkness fell, the lights of the South Rim pricked the night sky high and far away above us. Phantom Ranch was achieved quite early but the promised swim didn't materialize as the pool was empty. Part of the group swam in the River. We crossed the silt-laden Colorado, which at times reaches 12 mph.-it looked faster than that. A couple of chuckawallas were spotted along with one wild burro. The afternoon climb to Indian Gardens was done in 100 degree weather and was the steepest part of the trip. The next morning's prompted early start with the thought of a genuine shower bath at the South Rim gave stimulus to the hikers. The wide views of the canyon from this trail were myriad shades of pink thru purple. At the top the first word was that the showers were 2-1/2 miles away but Bright Angel Lodge came thru and a procession of grubby, unshaven, dusty-booted hikers followed the bell boy along the carpeted passages to the showers. Others put away a hearty breakfast. Others reputedly did both. We departed at 11 AM and along the way we stopped to help another Continental Trailways bus having tire trouble. Dinner at Blythe, a San Bernardino sandstorm, and home at midnight. Thank to Ed Ostrenga, our organizer; hiking Leader Jess Logan; and asst. Neko (crack the whip) Colevins; and reservationists, the Cochrans. Here's a trip that needs only one adjective-"grand"; Grand Canyon-Grand Trip. CHARLESTON PK-MUMMY MTN June 12-13 -Bob Michael With certain misgivings, we stopped at 1 AM on Vegas' west edge to bag some ZZZ's, Misgivings were fulfilled as the stifling desert warmth didn't make for an especially sound sleep. Next morning, on the other hand, we restaurant-fed ourselves, thus sparing the nuisance of priming up the Primus. A frantic dash from Jamaica Inn to McWilliams campground in Lee Canyon brought us there in good time-only 10 minutes late. Lateness didn't matter as the leader was still asleep. This provided a nice handicap for us during the day. Promptly at 8:30, eight stalwart DPSers left the ski lift at 8515' for Charleston, 11,918. After a few hundred feet gain it was pretty clear that the long drive from LA had adversely affected one member, and two returned to camp. Following up the stream that passes the ski lift bldg, we turned south into a prominent, moderate snow chute which led to the Lee-Kyle Canyons divide at 10,800', at which point the north loop trail from Kyle Canyon was intercepted. This trail fell full of snow about a mile farther, and Leader Arky Erb proceeded up the east face of the N ridge of Charleston. The climb was extreme class 3 in short pitches. Having attained the summit ridge, it was a moderately good snow climb to the top in a bit under 4 hours. We found a register left by Gene Gail in '63. A leisurely 2-hr stay atop provided commanding views, and the morning dust haze had lifted displaying the Avawatz, Kingston, Panamint, Clark, and Nopah Ranges.

Page Index	Prev	Page 8	Next	Issue Index