Mule Ride in the Grand Canyon My parents took the family on many vacations while we were all living at home, but one of the trips I remember most for the natural beauty was the Grand Canyon in Arizona. I was about 10 years old when we went for the second time. I vaguely remembered being there the first time and remembered riding on a horse. At least I thought it was a horse. I was crazy about horses most of my young life and some into my adult years, and my parents tried to let me ride one as often as possible. We lived in the city limits so we couldn t have one in the backyard. The closest I came was a toy spring horse in the living room or leasing a horse in a local stable for my exclusive use for a month. When we went to the Grand Canyon for the second time, I couldn t find any horses only mules. My parents had probably figured it was easier to let me think I was on a horse on the earlier trip than try to explain that it was actually a mule. Before we went on vacation anywhere, my parents picked up the AAA tour books and read library books about the area. Then my mother would read passages from the tour books while we were riding in the car. There were so many maps, tour books, and brochures piled up on the dashboard of the car that it s a wonder my dad could see through the reflections on the windshield! When we arrived at our destination, they would want to listen to all the rangers talks, take all the self-guided tours, and visit the local museums. They tried to make each vacation a total experience.
We probably did all that at the Grand Canyon. There are two museums there, one for the geological history and one telling about the Native Americans who lived in the area. We must have visited the park headquarters and the Grand Canyon Village where my mother probably bought a lot of postcards some to mail and some to keep in her postcard collection. I probably asked my parents for some money so I could view the canyon through the coin-operated telescopes. I looked in amazement at the many layers of various hues telling the history of the earth. The ranger had told us that the different layers that made up the walls of the canyon, the limestone, sandstone, shale, and others, had settled over two billion years. If one traveled down through the canyon, one would pass through many geographical zones, each with its own flora, fauna, and weather. At the very bottom was the Colorado River, which looked like a small creek from that height but I was sure was gigantic if you were standing next to it. There were squirrels scampering around, and I hoped to feed a nut to them from my hand, but they wouldn t come close enough. The view was spectacular and I was amazed at its grandeur, but what I really wanted was to go on a mule ride. This time I knew it would be a mule and not a horse, but that was fine with me. The mule rides took most of the day. You started at the top of the South Rim and rode single file down the trail to a point about halfway, where there was a picnic area for our lunch. Then you rode back out of the canyon and back to the stables. I was the only one in my family interested in the mule ride. My parents dressed me in long jeans and long sleeves, with boots and a sun hat. The mule knew the way, of course, so I didn t have to guide him. Shortly after we began
our descent, we were instructed to pause at a turn in the switchbacks for a photographer to take our individual pictures which we would be able to purchase later. The switchbacks seemed to go on forever, but you couldn t go straight down, of course, because it was too steep. After a half an hour or so of riding, we had progressed only a few feet down into the canyon. Even with the switchbacks, it was a steep trail. It felt like the saddle was sliding onto the mule s neck and I could feel his shoulders go up and down with each step, tilting my hips left and right, left and right, with it. We stopped every so often so we could drink some water. Halfway down into the canyon, there is a level area where they have built a place called the Phantom Ranch. This is where we stopped to have our lunch. The guide helped me off the mule, and when I reached the ground, I could hardly walk. I felt very short after having spent a couple of hours on a tall mule. After we ate, we could go to a lookout point and gaze down into the Colorado River. There were many hikers who also stopped at the Phantom Ranch. I met several hikers from Germany and I was amazed at how well they spoke English. While we were resting, my parents showed up! After they had seen me off at the stables, they had decided to hike down the same trail themselves. I got back on the mule and the guide led us back up the canyon walls. My parents had to walk back up. Hiking in the Grand Canyon is the opposite of hiking a mountain. On a mountain, you first climb up, and then climb down on the way home. In the canyon, the hard part is the uphill climb home. They say it takes twice as long to hike back out. When I got back to the stables, I went back to our campsite and joined my brother.
It was hours later and almost dark when my parents finally arrived at our campsite. They looked exhausted! But it is the kind of trip where you can t change your mind half way through. And my parents usually finish what they start. I m glad I was on the mule for more reasons than one. I got to ride a mule and I didn t have to walk out of the canyon!
Pdf Entry Information Exhibitor Name: Kathy Boyd WEN: 80746A Division: FA - 355 - Memoir Class: 01 Personal Memoir Title: Mule Ride in the Grand Canyon Description: Notes: