Hermit Trail in The Grand Canyon

Hermit Trail in The Grand Canyon is a good alternative to the more popular Bright Angel Trail, if you are prepared for a route that is a little more remote and technically more difficult. The Bright Angel Trail was fully booked when we went in mid-September. On Hermit Trail, we only saw a handful of other people on our three day trip.

The trail is rugged and interesting, with vibrant plant and animal life along the way. If you aren’t used to desert hiking, you’ll want to increase the amount of water you carry by a significant amount. I packed in four liters and still ran out towards the end.

Researching rattlesnake encounters is also useful, as we saw a few along the way. The Grand Canyon is a far cry from the Alberta badlands Tiffany and I are used to exploring closer to home. You can start your research here to learn more about the technical elements of this hike.

Getting to the South Rim

The closest airport is Flagstaff. Most people fly into Phoenix, which is the closest major international airport. Driving from Phoenix to the South Rim takes about 3.5 hours. We flew into Phoenix, which allowed us to make a stop in Sedona on the way back.

I usually prefer to use public transit or local shuttles while I travel. It’s more sustainable and gives me more time to just relax and enjoy the scenery. I’ve done some research on alternative transportation options, though, and have found that renting a car is about the only thing that makes sense for The Grand Canyon.

The trail starts at Hermit’s Rest, which is at the end of West Rim Drive/Hermit Road. Depending on the time of year, you may need to park your car in the town area and take a shuttle to the trailhead. There are restrictions on vehicle traffic during peak season.

Into The Grand Canyon

We got a very early start to avoid hiking during the hottest part of the day. The sun was still a couple of hours away from rising, and driving along the rim to Hermit Trail in the dark was eerie. Looking out to where I knew the canyon to be, with a nearly full moon preparing to set, there was just enough light for me to see and feel the void. At night it is a dark and empty feeling space from rim to rim.

I got out of the car. While standing a solid ten meters from the edge, I still felt like I might fall in. A first hint of fear set in, the kind that comes when you realize how small you are. Our bags were packed and dawn was breaking. We walked to the edge and let the canyon swallow us.

All of the ins and outs, ridges and layers were so beautiful, it was like being dropped into a cheesy postcard. I looked up just in case an airplane was skywriting the word “ARIZONA”. A condor circled high above.

The Innocent First Miles

The first couple of miles from the trailhead to the Santa Maria Spring felt amazing. The sun had not yet begun to hit our trail, our water bottles were full, and our joints were limber. We were borderline frolicking!

Santa Maria Spring is a lovely place for a rest, but we probably could have just filled our water bottles and carried on quickly. It would have been smart to cover more miles earlier in the day, and rest during the hot hours.

As we skipped away from the last water we would see until we reached camp, the hike became progressively more difficult. We traded wide stone paving for rocky traverses and steep switchbacks. The sun was merciless.

Having studied the map, I knew that we had to go down the “Cathedral Staircase.” That landmark would signal the final stretch to camp. Ridge after ridge failed to reveal this staircase, which seemed more fictional by the step. Around the time I stopped declaring, “the staircase must be just on the other side of this ridge,” we found it and descended.

The Walking Dead

This was at once a great and terrible turning point in our journey. In terms of technical hiking, we had completed the most difficult portions of the hike. We had only to cross a final, relatively flat portion of earth and we would be at camp. But, we had reached the hottest part of the day and Tiffany’s knees were in rough shape.

Tiffany’s limp worsened and, as we crossed a flatland with little shade, she began dragging her right leg limply behind her, just like a zombie. This freaked me right out, not only because I’ve seen The Walking Dead, but because I knew we still had at least a mile to go.

As we approached a large boulder and its sliver of shade, I suggested we stop and take a little break. Tiffany burst into tears. “I don’t want to die down here,” she sobbed. I hugged her close and apologized for taking her down into such a hostile wasteland. Then, for some instinctive reason, I suddenly turned into a backcountry drill sergeant.

Releasing my embrace, I stood face-to-face with my wife. I grabbed her by the backpack straps and looked into her eyes. “You’re not going to die down here! You are going to eat this ibuprofen, I am going to take some of your pack weight, and we are going to finish walking to camp!”

I don’t remember much about the last mile. It was hot.

Arriving at Hermit Creek in The Grand Canyon

Finally, almost ten hours after we had happily left the trailhead, we made it to camp. As far as we could tell, we were alone at the campground. This time, it was I who was in rough shape. The rationed water and high temperature had given me a mild case of heat exhaustion.

Tiffany threw me into the creek that was situated next to our campground, then set about the task of treating water.

As the cool creek water detoured around my body, I wondered how much an air lift out of the canyon would cost, and if it would even be possible for them to reach us. I made a mental inventory of relatives who might be able to help finance a helicopter rescue.

I removed myself from the creek and tried to sleep. Feelings of nausea and clamminess overtook me, and I felt too hot and then too cold, in alternation. The nausea drove me out of the tent repeatedly, and I sat on a nearby rock waiting to vomit.

As I sat there, a dark haired man of about 30 years walked towards me from a campsite situated deeper into the campground. We were not alone after all.

Things Get a Little Religious

I frowned at the man, confused by the presence of another person after not seeing anyone all day. There’s no way they were on the trail earlier than us. Maybe they had hiked in a day earlier.

“Hey, I made some salmon pesto penne, and my family wasn’t able to eat it all. Do you guys want some? I’m just going to have to pack it out otherwise,” the man said. He was softspoken and friendly.

“I’m actually feeling a little nauseous, but I bet Tiffany would like some,” I replied, gesturing towards our campsite.

Tiffany wandered out of the tent and followed the man back to his campsite. She told him a bit about our day, and enjoyed a gourmet backcountry meal. He listened carefully, then gave her a two day supply of gatorade powder, instructing her to make me drink a liter tonight, and to use the remainder generously over the next two days.

His family consisted of his mom and dad, who were very friendly but spoke little to no English, as they were all visiting from Israel. To summarize: an Israeli man in his 30s shared with us a multitude of fish and grains, and had so much that there were leftovers. Then, he turned our water into gatorade. Desert Jesus.

A New Appreciation for Desert Hiking

The next morning, I was feeling better and knew that we weren’t going to die or even need an airlift out of the canyon. Looking around our campsite that morning, I noticed how beautiful the area was. I no longer regretted the trip and actually felt a little smug about how awesome I was for bringing my new wife to such a remote and beautiful place. Did I mention this was our honeymoon?

With my excitement for the canyon rekindled, I went to thank Desert Jesus for all of his help. But, in true Jesus style, he had disappeared. When we returned to civilization, we bought a cross at a little store in the desert to commemorate the event. It hangs in our house and we now occasionally refer to ourselves as “those crazy people who met Jesus in the desert.”

Hiking to the Colorado River

After failing to find Desert Jesus, we ate some breakfast and assessed our physical state. Tiffany’s knee had calmed down and I was feeling hydrated again, so we decided to make the day trip down Hermit Creek to the Colorado River.

The walk down to the mighty Colorado was stunning. Hermit Creek has carved its own little canyon that is dotted with waterfalls and surrounded by lush greenery. It’s much cooler by the water, and the walls of sedimentary layers are gorgeous. Gorgeous gorges.

I liked walking right in the creek bed. We tried to follow a path up into the foliage and I almost stepped on a massive rattlesnake. It freaked me right out, and as my adrenaline was pushing me into a quick retreat, Tiffany tried to stop me so she could get a picture. I was having none of it, and we were back to following the creek bed as soon as we could back ourselves out of the snake zone.

The massive snake encounter shook me up pretty good, and I had a bit of an adrenaline crash afterwards. I had a snack then cooled off in the creek bed, right where Hermit Creek enters the Colorado River. The sound of the rapids was weirdly soothing.

Raging Rapids

There was massive flooding in Colorado before our trip, closer to the headwaters of the Colorado River. By the time we got to Hermit Rapids, much of that water had travelled downstream. The rapids were massive, I have never seen anything like it.

It’s kind of magical standing next to such a powerful river. Powerful in force and volume for sure, but also powerful in its importance to so many people in the west and southwest United States and parts of Mexico. According to the Nature Conservancy, the Colorado River supports $1.4 trillion in annual economic activity. It supplies water to over 40 million people, and over 5.5 million acres of agricultural land.

If you haven’t yet been convinced of the importance of conservation, standing next to this river might do it for you.

Hiking Out

When we arrived back at camp, a group of young adults on a guided tour had arrived for a one night stay. We laughed a little bit about how vapid a few of them were. Their tour guides were lovely to talk with as the sun went down and an unbelievable starry sky emerged.

It is always nice to meet people in the backcountry. It’s almost always a guarantee that there will be a good base of shared values. Our trail friends were from San Francisco, and leading a driving tour through the western United States.

We agreed that we’d all get up super early to get a good start on the hike out, and beat the heat. When we all set out together the next morning, the moon was setting, a beautiful scene that shed just enough light for us to get started without needing to pull out headlamps.

The hike back up the canyon was pleasant and uneventful. We had made it full circle and were frolicking again. Ascending was a challenge for sure, but less brutal than the constant joint impact on the way down. Time flew by, we made relatively few stops to rest, and were at the top by lunch time. The sight of an ice cream stand at Hermit’s Rest after ascending the full depth of The Grand Canyon was overwhelming, and we each ordered a double scoop.

Lessons Learned on Hermit Creek Trail in The Grand Canyon

We certainly didn’t underestimate Hermit Trail, but we underestimated our own abilities in ways that worked against our success on this trip. Here are a few of the things we will do differently next time:

1. Fill up your water at Santa Maria Spring, even if you have plenty left. The next opportunity to fill up is at the campground, and you’ll be happy not to need to be as careful with how much you are drinking.
   
2. Some of the research we encountered said that you should stop to rest every hour and lift your feet, presumably to maintain good circulation in the desert heat. We did this, but it was total overkill and wasted a ton of time. Next time we will get an early start and log as many miles as possible before the hot part of the day. Then it will be easier to rest or slow down during the scorching hours.
   
3. Gatorade powder is an essential item. Being able to stay hydrated and keep your electrolytes and energy up on a challenging and sweaty hike like this makes everything so much easier and happier. Desert Jesus bailed us out and gave us a Ziploc full of the stuff on this hike, and gatorade powder is now a staple item for us on any backpacking trip.
   
4. There are universal principles to respecting wildlife. Be aware of your surroundings. Keep your distance, and retreat calmly if you find that you have entered a creature’s space. We know these skills from being bear aware in the Canadian Rockies (and we have had some uncomfortably close encounters), and this approach worked well for rattlesnakes as well.

Summary

Hermit Trail in The Grand Canyon is a great way to experience this treasured American National Park. It is not for the faint of heart or inexperienced backpackers, though. Tiffany and I trained for a few months before this trip doing stair circuits and mountain hikes. We still had some challenging moments heading down the canyon.

If you want to experience The Grand Canyon in a remote and rugged way, and have some totally badass stories to tell afterwards, Hermit Trail is an awesome goal. Are you thinking of visiting Hermit Trail in The Grand Canyon? What other trails are you looking at doing? Let me know in the comments!