The wheelbarrows started passing by at about 5am with campers pushing their gear to the corral at the front of the campground to eventually be loaded onto horses for the trek out of the canyon. Even with ear plugs, that is what I heard first when the sky began to brighten the next day in the Havasupai campground. I rolled over and watched through the opening of my tarp as hikers walked past on their way out of paradise.
I got up around 6am and packed up my things into my pack. Denise was still sleeping so after filling my water bottles at the spring in camp, I opted to walk back down to Mooney Falls to watch the sun come up in the canyon. I was still marveling at the unique blue green color of the creek as I made my way past quiet campsites, either because folks were still nestled inside their tents or because half of them were already cleared out.
I guess I had had the impression there was no reason to hurry into camp your first day because people would still be in their sites but it looked like quite a few people headed out pretty early in the morning. The sites right above Mooney Falls that had been full the night before with clotheslines and hammocks were now empty and ready for the next round of visitors.
I spent some time walking around the top of the waterfall and up to where the creek runs over the edge. This seemed to be the perfect time of day to explore and hard to believe the campground could have up to 300 guests. I walked around and observed the water from different angles and relished that I was the only one there. Maybe this place wasn’t that bad.
On the way back to our campsite about 6:45am, there were quite a few eager photographers with tripods and lens bigger than the camera itself heading down to Mooney for the perfect sunrise shot. Ahh, that was more like I had expected. I guess there is a golden hour for having beautiful places all to yourself, too.
After eating breakfast and finishing packing, we walked out of the campground and towards Supai proper about 7:45. The sun was just beginning to light up Havasu Falls and I imagined a fresh set of swimmers and sunbathers would be arriving soon. Unlike when we hiked in the day before in long pants and puffy jackets, I was hiking out in shorts and light long sleeve shirt over a tank top. It warms up fast here in the canyon.
We stopped in the main grocery store in town around 8:30 to see what they had for sale, hoping for maybe a souvenir or two. It was obvious the store caters more to the residents but there were a few t-shirts and such. Although it had little more than what you might expect in a convenience store, there was fresh produce and a meat counter. I opted for some orange juice and pork rinds, it sounded like the perfect snack for our hike out. Let me just say, it was not cheap. I guess having to helicopter everything translates to paying more than normal. No worries, it was worth it. That was some mighty fine orange juice.
I had to go to the bathroom already and spotted a public bathroom in the courtyard but then noticed several women go up and find it locked. Hmmm, where to go? When we passed by the office, I saw a gentleman outside on a smoke break, he had an official looking badge on his shirt. I asked him about bathrooms and he nicely said I could go into the office and tell the gal inside that I could use the staff bathroom. I thanked him profusely and quickly use the bathroom. Leaving the tribal office, we turned right and continued out of town. I remembered to take a picture of the tiny Head Start school next to the office; it’s always fun to find them while I’m traveling. Even if it reminds me of work.
Although we had already stopped at one store, we couldn’t help but check out the other market on the edge of town. It is actually a convenience store slash deli, but we were too early for burgers and such. The counter had a trail register and I was so surprised to see kombucha and fresh cut pineapple in the cold case I bought that, too. It was worth carrying for a while as I ate. I wish I would have known about it yesterday when I hiked in all hot and sweaty!
Our hike out was uneventful but it was fun letting those folks slogging in how much further they had to go when they would ask, “How much further?” I imagined they looked like we did yesterday, with their long pants and hooded sweatshirts still on and us heading out in much less. I noticed a few more details in the canyon, like old mining equipment abandoned from long ago.
What people were carrying made more sense now that I knew so many people had their gear carried in or would be “car camping”. Not very many people really looked like backpackers, more like folks headed on a sleepover to a friend’s house or the family cabin. So many people with full size sleeping bags and tents strapped haphazardly to their packs or just carried in their hand. This included a few with gallon sized jugs of water! We also played leap frog with a few other groups heading out as we each took turns to stop for a snack or take off another layer. We both pulled our umbrellas out and you could see quite a few envious looks on those we passed.
It was about 1pm when we reached the top of the canyon and back to our cars. The hike up from the river bottom had been hot and dusty. We also had to pull over a few times for the trains of horses making their way up and down the switchbacks loaded with coolers, duffle bags and supplies. I noticed quite a few native people hiking in and wondered if they were with the tribe or simply representative of the local population coming in on a Friday for the weekend. Everyone was friendly and in a good mood, ready for some time away from civilization.
We quickly changed into our car clothes and I pulled cold bottles of kombucha from the cooler I had packed with ice the day before to enjoy as we made our way out of the busy parking lot. Not only were there plenty of cars pulling in and out, there were a few trucks circling and selling cold beverages to weary hikers.
Our drive out was much less hazardous in the light of the day, no roaming elk or wild cows to be avoided. It was much easier to distinguish the wide sage covered plain that would have produced cattle from the forested hills that brought forth elk at dusk on Wednesday. Was that already that long ago?? It was during this part of the drive that Denise let me know that sleep last night had done her good and she was willing to continue on to Mojave with me today instead of being dropped off at a hotel to wait. Sweet! I really wasn’t looking forward to the planned party separation.
Our drive to Mojave National Preserve would take us back down to Route 66 and then westbound towards California. We both talked about wanting to take a shower before getting on the plane tomorrow (knowing that wouldn’t be an option in Mojave) so Denise did another search on her phone for possibilities. The first big town was Kingman and with several options available, we settled on the Flying J truck stop.
Now, let me say this was no small feat for me. I avoid gas station bathrooms at all cost and will more likely choose a Port-A-Potty or behind a tree first. Can’t say why, it’s just a thing. I have to admit I had a picture of what a truck stop shower would look like but she assured me they were okay. We’ll see, I told her I would have to look first.
We pulled up to the Flying J and although Denise was ready to take our shower bags in, I told her I wanted to check first. I’m sure she thought I was being silly. We went inside and took the hallway over to where the showers were. I was pleasantly surprised. There was a waiting room with a screen that told you when it was your turn and individual key code rooms for the showers. An attendant was wheeling a cart with freshly washed towels. This was better than my own home! So, having passed muster we turned around to head back out to the car to get our things.
On the way out, a couple of older gentlemen we passed made eye contact and a flirtatious comment to us which I smiled and then ignored. When we got outside, I asked Denise if she had heard (she hadn’t) and joked that if she stuck with me I’d get us dinner (seriously, just a joke). But what was actually funny was that when we got back into the store to stand in line to buy our showers ($12), we must have looked like that was what we were there for because a different gentleman in the line in front of us turned around to ask us if we were getting showers (yes, yes we were) and then shook his head and told us we didn’t have to pay.
He seemed so genuine when he pulled a card out of his wallet that I couldn’t help but follow him towards the hallway for the showers where he showed us the kiosk that frequent customers swipe a card loaded with credits (like getting free car washes when you buy so much gas but in this case it was showers) and he got us two shower passes! Think what you will, but I am all for accepting a stranger’s trail angel’s generosity. Thank you, George! Not quite a free dinner, but a shower was just what we needed.
The ticket that was printed out had a code on it for the lock on the door to the shower. Let me just say, the Flying J shower rivaled some of the best hotel showers I have ever been in. A serious step above the shower in Marble canyon. I was one happy hiker. I had packed a small sliver of leftover soap in a pill bag and it was just enough for the two showers I have taken on this trip. No one was going to regret having to sit next to me on the plane home.
Now it was on to Mojave about 4:30pm. This is not the most exciting drive and we crossed the California border about quarter to 6. Why is it even when you aren’t doing anything wrong you feel nervous they are going to find a reason to search your car? Luckily, we were spared THAT adventure on this trip.
From here you begin to drive into the desert proper but it didn’t look much like I expected. It was Denise, who has been here before, said it was the greenest she has ever seen it and it must simply be that time of year when things are in bloom. How lucky we were to get to see it!
It was another hour before we turned right off of I-40, onto Kelbaker Road and into the Mojave National Preserve. This looks less like a national park that you pass through an entrance like at Zion or Bryce but a landscape designated with a sign and protections.
It is also okay to road camp within the preserve as long as you are not on the main road or in pullouts marked for day use.The sun was going down on us again and we were in search of a side road to pullover on for the night. Looking at the map, it appeared we could take the road to Kelso Dunes and there was camping available before and after the trailhead for the dunes themselves.
About 7:15 pm we found ourselves a spot a bit before the trailhead to the dunes and made ourselves a camp in the desert.
I opted to cowboy camp my last night, maybe wanting to pretend just a bit I was like those PCT hikers in the first 700 miles up from Mexico that I have seen pictures of in blogs and such. Or maybe I just didn’t want the hassle of setting up the tarp. I pushed away thoughts of tarantulas and scorpions crawling into my sleeping bag in middle of the night as I laid out on my improvised trash compacter bag turned ground cloth and Neo Air mattress and settled in for the evening. If I haven’t mentioned it before, I use an inflatable neck pillow. After years of filling a stuff sack with leftover clothing, I found this little item and it is the perfect pillow. Because it conforms around your neck, it doesn’t slide all over the place like other travel pillows.
It was a beautiful evening and I watched the sun go down over the Providence Mountains in the distance. The desert really is an amazing place. The Big Dipper once again hung over my head. It was a little sad to think this was my last night and we would be heading back home and most likely to rain in less than 24 hours. I knew it wasn’t over yet, but the end was near. What I didn’t know was that there was still a little adventure left in our trip. More surprises were yet to come, starting with about an hour after I fell asleep. Having already begun to drift off to sleep, I didn’t hear the cars pull up at the trailhead down the road but I sure could hear the gang of what sounded like teenagers at a Taylor Swift concert get out and spill into the desert. Boy, sound travels far here. From my sleeping bag I could see the ray of a strobe light suddenly shine up into the night sky. What the?
After about 5 minutes of ruckus a slightly older sounding gentleman settled them down and began to talk about how they were going to fan out into the desert looking for an array of wildlife and flora for an hour or so and then come back to watch things flitter in the strobe light. Oh, a night hike. Maybe a Meetup group or college class? I gave up listening and stuck earplugs in once again for my last night in the southwest and blissfully heard neither the rest of his speech (something about watching out for scorpions and tarantulas) nor their return to talk about what they had found.
I was out.
If you read Spring Break Road Trip: Where Do I Start?, you remember there is still something about underwear and yoga poses to come…check it out on Spring Break Road Trip Day 6: Ben, Joshua, Michael and Craigslist.
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