If you have not ever seen it, you will be told by anyone who has that there is no way you can prepare yourself, that when you first gaze upon it, it is impossible not to be stunned by its glory. You may have seen photographs and films, read the literature, and imagined it in your mind. Still. . . there is just no way.
I’d heard that and discounted it as hyperbole. My companion on my first visit had worked for the Park Service as a firefighter on the North Rim. He loved the Grand Canyon so fervently that he got to be something of a bore. So I was determined not to be impressed.
It was winter and the parking lots on the South Rim were not full, the way they would be when it warmed up. We parked and put on our parkas and followed the signs to the lookout. The air ahead of us seemed to shimmer, slightly, and take on a faint and hazy blue tint.
A concrete walk led out toward what had to be the lip of the canyon. There were puddles on the walk. Old slushy snow and I was looking down to keep from stepping into one. When I looked up. . .
Oh, Skipper. There was the view. That view. The one that has taken away the breath of so many other visitors the way it had just taken mine.
It’s impossible to describe the majesty of it. The mix of colors on the opposite side, the great depth that the Colorado River has carved through the stone walls, down into the earth’s vitals, the play of light and shadow. The sheer, undeniable immensity.
Just no way. You must see it for yourself, as Teddy Roosevelt said every American must. It was Roosevelt who—inevitably, it seems—first designated this wonder as something exceedingly special and worthy of protection and preservation. That was in 1908, when he declared, as an executive prerogative, 800,000 acres a “national monument” in order to “Let this great wonder of nature remain as it now is. You cannot improve on it. But what you can do is keep it for your children, your children’s children, and all who come after you, as the one great sight which every American should see.”
Just over 10 years later, Roosevelt’s political enemy Woodrow Wilson signed legislation creating the Grand Canyon National Park. It was protected, then, for all time. So if every American should see it, now every American could.
And the getting there can be fun. As an alternative to the highway, you could come over from Williams, Arizona, via one of the great short train trips anywhere. This train is a resurrection of the one that first took visitors to the Grand Canyon in 1901. It was the sovereign way to go, back then, with the alternative being a stagecoach over slightly less than 100 miles of bad road. The train would eventually fall out of favor, eclipsed by the automobile, and shut down in 1968. It was reborn in 1989 but kept the flavor of the old, including the 1923 Harriman-style coaches. The operation is right up-to-date in one important regard, though. The locomotive’s boiler does not burn coal or wood. In keeping with the conservation ethic that is at the Park’s core, it runs on recycled vegetable oil.
But much of the rest is old-time authentic. There are people aboard dressed in period clothes who tell stories to the passengers as the train makes its way through country that is just plain spectacular. The vast stands of Ponderosa pine around Williams give way to the high desert and pinion pine country and, then, you arrive at the park. You may have booked a hotel if you want to stay for a day or two or you can spend four hours on the South Rim before the train makes the return trip.
There is plenty to do on the South Rim before that departure. Above all, for those who have never been here, there is that first look out at the Grand Canyon. And after you have recovered from that initial stunning look down into the canyon, you can do what it seems everyone does when at the rim for the first time. You can take some photographs. This has to be the world’s most photographed vista and why not? It is, after all, the world’s most photogenic vista.
After the first viewing and the taking of those photographs, there are interpretive displays, ranger tours, and a National Geographic visitor center where you can watch a justifiably famous IMAX movie called Grand Canyon: The Hidden Secrets.
A day at the South Rim is enough for most people—and sufficient, most likely, to satisfy Teddy Roosevelt’s commandment. But there are many who desire a little more, who wish to experience the Grand Canyon as much as simply view it. With so much country, you find yourself feeling the urge to get back into it. To see the wildlife, which can include mule deer, commonly, and, more rarely, desert bighorn sheep. You might also catch a glimpse of a soaring California condor, the bird that was once endangered and after a captive breeding repopulation program introduced back into the wild.
There are many ways to separate yourself from the crowds and get out into the backcountry. You can ride—bikes, horses, mules—on the many trails that wind through the park. Bikes and horses are for rides along the rim, not down into the canyon. For that, you need a sure-footed mule. There are outfitters who will provide the mount and guides and, if you choose to, you can descend all the way down into the canyon to the Phantom Ranch by the Colorado River. From rim to river by trail, the distance is just under eight miles, and the elevation change is almost 4,500 feet. It is a long way down, further than it looks from the rim. You can feel the temperature changing and the air getting thicker as you make your way.
Mules make the trip easier than if you walked. But walking is fine, too. While the park does not—emphatically—recommend round-trips, it is an irresistible possibility to some. I did it, once upon a time, and I don’t recommend it, either. Went down the South Kaibab Trail and came up the Bright Angel Trail. Something a little over 16 miles according to the map. (There were no Fitbits or GPS back then.) The rule of thumb is that it takes twice as long coming out as it does going in. And the change in elevation makes it feel longer yet. So, much better to spend the night. Phantom Ranch requires advance reservations and there are campsites where you can overnight. For this, you need a permit, which is not required for day trips.
The hike is strenuous enough (believe me) that you will want to travel light. You might even want to make arrangements to have your gear brought out by mule. During the warm months, you might want to leave the tent behind (likewise the camp stove; fires are not permitted) and just eat cold food. You will also want to be sure to let someone know that you are going in. Don’t depend on the phone, since cell-service is unreliable. The Park Service handles enough emergency rescues that when you talk to the rangers about them, they seem almost routine. Still, you don’t want to require this service. So pack plenty of water, dress properly, and know your limitations. All the usual, in other words.
The trip down is worth it for all sorts of reasons, not least that you will get close to the river. What appeared as a thin ribbon of green from the rim, up close, is loud and formidable. You cannot but marvel at the boldness of John Wesley Powell and his party coming through here, in 1869, in four wooden boats. The trip is done by raft these days, and that is thrilling enough for most.
Lots of people, it seems, are following TR’s urgings, so there’s no guarantee that hiking will give you solitude. But if you do find yourself alone on one of the trails, the immensity becomes tactile and you can feel it and hear it. The majesty of it leaves you feeling small and in awe. This is the “experience” of the park that comes after that first viewing when your breath is taken away in a way that you hadn’t thought possible.
Yes, Mr. Roosevelt had it right—every American should see the Grand Canyon. You owe it to yourself.
Geoffrey Norman, a writer in Vermont, is a frequent contributor to The Weekly Standard.
