Mr. Write's Page

Part 3

So, there I was, newly arrived at Phantom Ranch and gloriously happy — joyful, ecstatic, stoked, take your pick — to be there.

Mostly, my thoughts were on the following day, when I planned to hike out the Clear Creek Trail for the day. The hike would be a bit strenuous, a climb of 1,500 feet up to the Tonto Platform and a distance of six miles round-trip, but the views make it worthwhile.

After a steak dinner at the Canteen, I walked down to the boat beach and the mouth of Bright Angel Creek. By the time I got back, night had fallen.

At 8:00 PM, the Canteen reopened, and I staked out one corner of a quiet table. For the next hour, I nursed another beer and leafed through some books from the library. The Canteen has a wall of books devoted to Grand Canyon history and geology.

At 9:00 PM, I said goodnight and headed back to my cabin; I didn’t want to miss the arrival of the full moon. I had experienced a full moon at Phantom before, so I knew what to expect.

To prepare for the moment, I got comfortable on the bench in front of the cabin, opened the container of brandy I had brought along in my saddlebag, and poured two fingers’ worth into a plastic cup. I commenced to sipping and waiting.

My cabin.

The view toward the Canteen.

Thanks to a few strategic streetlights and light from the canteen, I could see my surroundings clearly.  Now and then, guests walked by on the main path 20 yards away, headlamps flickering through the foliage. Overhead, the east wall of Bright Angel Canyon was growing steadily brighter as moonrise approached.

In the spirit of the moment, I drank a toast to the River Gods, and whatever other deities might be listening, and I thanked them for my good fortune.

I toasted Phantom Ranch and thanked it for years of incredible memories.

I toasted Twinkie, who had been so calm and cooperative during the morning ride. While I spent Wednesday hiking, Twinkie would be rewarded with the day off.

By the time I toasted Grand Canyon in its entirety, the brandy and the emotion caught up with me, and tears came to my eyes.

Dammit, I thought, You never used to cry at anything. Now look at you.

But the tears flowed because, at that moment, I was blissfully content.

Then, just in time to keep me weeping like a fool, the Moon sprung from behind the rim. Phantom Ranch was bathed in a brilliant, most sublime light.

I gasped, leapt to my feet, and took photos, all forgettable.

As I returned to the bench with a sigh of satisfaction, a slight movement on the right side of the path caught my attention. I peered intently at the spot.

Seconds later, barely 10 yards away, a fox emerged soundlessly from the undergrowth. He paused on the path, looked carefully around, and spotted me.

My presence didn’t seem to concern him. He studied me calmly for a moment and continued on his way.

I blinked in disbelief. The incident was almost surreal. Had I imagined it?

Of course not. A passing fox just looked you in the eye.

Blubbering anew, I raised my cup and toasted the fox.

The next morning at breakfast, I told a staff member about the encounter. I knew ringtail cats live around Phantom Ranch, and you spot them occasionally, but I wasn’t aware of a fox population.

Yes, she said, foxes do reside at Phantom. What I saw was a gray fox. They’re quiet, harmless, and fairly common. The Park Service is especially fond of them, she noted, because they hold down the rodent population.

In my next and final Trip 25 post, my hike along the Clear Creek Trail.