I started my weekend by going to Flagstaff and finally getting a haircut. There is very little in this world that can make you feel as shiny and new as simply getting your hair done. I walked in a scraggly mess, having lived in a desert for five weeks, and walked out a new woman. I was feeling so good, in fact, I decided to go buy some new pants because the ones I wear to work everyday are getting pretty beat.
So I went to American Eagle, where I buy all my pants, and went in search of the 12s. The problem with this? Everyone is a size 12. Disheartened I could only find booty shorts in 12s (read: the LAST thing a 12 wants are booty shorts!), I picked up the 14s in the khakis I wanted and 12s in the jean shorts I wanted and shlepped myself into the fitting room.
The 14s were far too big, so there went all the khakis I liked. I went to put on the 12 and realized that it too was too big for me. Adventurously, I had the woman bring me 10s. I put them on and zipped them up. It would have been great had they not been low-risers. I don't know who designs pants to have the legs shorten and crotch shrink when all you need is a smaller waist size. So, even though 12s are now too big, I still can't buy 10s because while my waist is smaller, these rhino legs of mine are going nowhere.
Having this slow-paced "whatever" weekend, I opted for a mostly-flat 8+ mile walk out to Hermits Rest. You all might remember this as the very first walk I did the weekend after I got here. I wanted to see if I'd changed in five weeks.
Only this time, I left at noon on one of the hottest days of the month so far. I wanted to really experience the heat, especially since I'd be going down into the canyon and so far I'd really stuck to morning hikes. Out I went into the sun armed with government-issued sunscreen and my camera.
Already a difference: there were now signs to tell me just how far there was left to go on the trail! Improvement.
The best sight of the day? A Swedish (?) man and his friend biking. The heavier friend was yelling in some language and grunting up the hill. His fit friend decides to help him out and literally, while still biking, pushes the other man up the hill. That's true friendship right there.
People tend to love the paved trails here, but I hate them. Not only are they uncomfortable to walk on them, but they kick back up the heat from the sun. Not only do you have the sun mercilessly on top of you, you have waves from heated tar coming back up from below you. When I hit the actual trail after the initial 2 miles of pavement, I always feel cooler. Which is ironic because this is the point where you're on exposed rock cliff and the heat from the canyon is now battering you from the side.
I kept reapplying sunscreen and taking water breaks while other, ambitiously uninformed hikers plowed right past me. I would later see them, drenched in sweat, sitting in the shade waiting for the bus. I enjoy the solitude and hate when some tourist, completely unprepared, interferes with my Sunday stroll.
Take for instance the woman wearing improper shoes who, instead of letting me (the uphill) pass her, she came barreling down the inside of the trail (me on the outside, drop of, oh, 2,000 feet) and slipped. She slipped right in front of me, her legs almost kicking mine out, but missing by two inches. All it would have taken was being off balance to fall over the ledge because some stupid person decided she could handle this twisting, loose gravel and dirt trail. But having worked in the park for five weeks, I was prepared. Honestly, she probably would have fallen and I would have just landed on my face. And so she, embarrassed, got up and on her way and I continued on mine.
If there's one thing you learn here it's Don't Be A Statistic. Especially your own.
(Video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DhIIVQi1uAU)
The heat was almost unbearable towards the end. When you hit the greenway (where bikes and people are allowed to mingle away from the road), you have a hilly paved monstrosity soaking up heat and throwing it back at you on this five-foot wide opening devoid of shade. It is literally the only point I felt as if the heat was too much.
But, right when I thought I'd have to go find a tree or bush to crawl under for some shade, it becomes steadily cooler. I can no longer feel the sun burning my exposed skin, a welcome relief. I looked up into the sky and this is what I saw:
The shape of two hands?
I finally made it to Hermits Rest, sat down, and waited for the next bus. I'm sure the guy who sat next to me was so thrilled; I probably smelled awesome at that point.
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