From Michigan Hiking & Back

Last spring I made my debut on the backpacking circuit. I'd been going camping since I was 5, but this was my first premiere performance in the deep wilderness. On a week's notice, I pulled my equipment together and was off to see the Grand Canyon. With nine school friends, I headed for a week away from civilization.

The first step of the journey was by car. Remember the energy crisis of a year ago, and the new, reduced 55mph speed limits? We were all told it was to save gas and lives, but it is also a way for states to fill their coffers with the proceeds of speeding tickets. Cars with out-of-state license plates, young people, and, in much of the Southwest, Blacks and Chicanos, are prime targets for state troopers along the highway (some times even when a car isn't speeding).

Each time we were stopped it was the same. A big, burly cop pulled us off to the side of the road. He asked for I.D. and then told us, and the four other cars he had caught at the same time, to follow him into town. Invariably, the jail was twenty miles out of our way in a one gas station pitstop, probably the model for "The Last Picture Show." Out of the kindness of their hearts, the top cop always claimed, we would not be sent to jail or held for court, provided we paid cash to the tune of about $25. In all, the trip cost over such payoffs.

From Ann Arbor, we drove straight through to Colorado, about 28 hours, where we stopped at a hiking comrade's home. Early the next morning, we went on through the Rocky Mountains, glad to be alert for the scenic drive in the snowy heights. Despite the May date, the weather was still chilly and warm clothing was a necessity.

A roadside campsite was our bed for that night, and the next day we arrived in Grand Canyon National Park. After years of travelogues, I was convinced the Canyon was just another tourist trap. But it's not a single canyon, it's hundreds stretching as far as the eye can see. Impressive is too mild a term.

STARTING FROM THE SOUTH RIM    Our first stop was park headquarters, where we confirmed our reservations and got permission to start down that day. (Like all national and Michigan parks, reservations can be made far in advance and are the only way to guarantee space for camping or hiking. The number of people allowed in the Canyon at one time is limited to preserve the wilderness area.) The park rangers checked our water carrying capacity, and warned that many creek beds were dry. With the possibility that it would be more than one day's hike between water, we had to be sure we could carry enough to survive. It was the first suggestion that hiking for fun could also be dangerous, a sensation that grows stronger with each additional step away from civilization. Desert survival skills are not part of most city kids' repertoire.

After parking our cars at the top of Bright Angel trail, we began unloading packs, sleeping bags, cooking equipment and food. Ninety percent of our edibles were normal supermarket products, repackaged into plastic bags and bottles to keep weight down. We stayed away from overpriced, dehydrated foods from camping stores, since cost was a factor for everyone.

For most of us first-timers, packs and bags were borrowed, a good course to keep us from making costly mistakes. With nylon packs on external aluminum frames starting at about $55, and down bags about the same, a test run in the wilderness was the best way to be assured of finally buying exactly what we wanted.

Weight is everything when you have to carry it all with you and no one will be around to help. For good measure, the most experienced hiker among us went through our personal equipment to be sure no one was taking unnecessary weight. One pair of long pants, one set of shorts, a couple of t-shirts, one long sleeved workshirt, a warm jacket or sweater, a poncho which doubled for rainwear and as a groundcloth, and finally, a hat, were clothes for the entire week. Comb, toothbrush, jackknife, fork, spoon, light plastic cup, bowl and plate, canteen, flashlight, and a good book completed personal needs, along with lightweight sleeping bags and foam mattress pads.

To avoid taking more than we needed, everything else was communal, from toothpaste, soap and suntan lotion to pots, pans, cook stove (no fires allowed in the canyon) and toilet paper. Other necessities included first aid and snakebite kits, salt pills and halizone tablets (for water purification). We divided up the communal goods based on ability to carry, the heavier and stronger carrying a higher proportion of equipment, and were on our way.

Hiking doesn't have to be expensive or difficult.  Wherever you go, it's a good opportunity to escape the city, exercise your muscles, and clear your mind with the reality of nature.

TWO FEET INTO THE WILDS    Besides the heavy pack on my back, the first thing I noticed was my feet. Once I started down the long trail, those two size 7 1/2 lumps at the end of my legs were the only way to get back out.

Going downhill sounds like a snap, right? Not so. You spend the entire time braking with your feet and legs in the "switchbacks" (twenty feet stretches ending in hairpin turns winding back and forth down the cliff face). That means using muscles untouched by normal walking, at the same time this weight is pressing your back and pushing down on already overworked legs. Having led a sedate, city life for my 23 years, I found I could barely make it those first seven miles. Nothing could have been more glorious than the tree-shaded campsite growing closer every step.

The campsite, Heaven's Gate, is a minor wonder. Built during the depression through the public works program designed to create jobs, Heaven's Gate boasts running water and electricity. Toilets. sinks, generators and wood planks for buildings and tables were all hauled down on the backs of men and donkeys over the same narrow trail I had just SO agonizingly descended. This luxury outpost was used by the less brave or sturdy hikers who chose only an overnight trip, rather than the week-long survival test we were doing. But it was also popular for use by folks like us as "easy" first day's hike.

The only muscles that didn't hurt were the ones around my mouth, so at least I could enjoy dinner. And as monstrous blisters began appearing on toes, heels, and even bottoms of my feet, I learned my first hard lesson of backpacking. Good shoes and two pair of heavy, non-synthetic socks are a must. My $25 cheapies looked like other hiking boots, but in terms of sturdiness and support couldn't match the needed $45 ones. The only good thing about mine is that I had broken them in for months before the trip. New shoes are a mistake common to new hikers. Once the realization is there that only those two feet can save you should anything go wrong, shoes become the most vital part of all the equipment.

After a breakfast of homemade familia cereal (which we all grew to hate by the end of the hike), we set out for the less traveled parts of the Canyon. Still stiff and sore from the day before, every step was painful and difficult, and my underdeveloped muscles made me the group slowpoke. But, as the days go on, the blisters go away, the muscles fill out, and by the end of the week, I was mostly keeping pace. In fact, I was in better physical condition than I had been for years.

The second day out, now past worrying about feet, I started noticing the importance of water. The Canyon is a desert, and even the few spring flowers had already started to fade from summer heat and dryness. Every step raises a cloud of sand and dust, and by the end of the trip, we had just accepted a continual grit on our skins, in our hair and as a new seasoning tor our food.

The dryness of the Canyon environment means caution in using water on the trail. No one drinks up all their water while hiking because it's not certain when there will be more. There is also no eating on the trail, since it would simply make us thirsty.

We were lucky. On our trip, every creek had water, and good water at that. It's sometimes hard for a city dweller to imagine just dipping a cup into the flow and drinking pure, cold water from a mountain stream, but that's how it is. Each night we camped alongside such a pool or waterfall. There was usually even enough for washing ourselves and our few clothes. After a hot hike in the spring sun which gets up to 90 degrees at times, a cold shower was refreshing. At the end of each day's hike, we also refreshed with nuts and dried fruits for quick energy.

It wasn't until about the third day we finally went all the way down to the Colorado River, about twenty miles from the rim where we started. While a major part of the Grand Canyon, the only people who ever see it up close are the energetic hikers, or those with enough bread to pay for a mule ride or raft trip. In fact, swimming on the beach one afternoon, a few raft trips went over the nearby rapids. They were as fascinated by us young, naked hippies as we were of their $300 cameras, salon hairdos, and Hawaiian print shirts.

On the seventh day, tanned, healthy and stronger than ever, it was time to hike out. The whole week is only a preparation for this task, ten miles out, five straight up. Nothing I'd ever done in my life was so physically difficult, and in the end, so rewarding. Celebrating with a real shower and clothes without sand in the seams, I was proud I'd made it and couldn't wait to try it again. But next time, I'll get better shoes, exercise ahead of time, take . . . .

Of course, you don't have to go all the way to the Grand Canyon to find prime hiking territory. Pinckney Recreation Area, less than an hour away, has an excellent trail for a day.