My Journey into Havasu Canyon

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Havasu Canyon.

Have you heard of it?

Maybe this picture will ring a bell.

Yeah! That one! You also may have seen blog posts detailing how to score permits and when to call for reservations…but has anyone REALLY went into detail about the hike? To get there, you have to hike through Havasu Canyon. They all mention “oh yeah it’s pretty challenging, but you can do it!” But do they mention the drive to the trailhead, filled with random COWS hopping across the street like Frogger? Do they mention the parking situation, WHICH IS ON THE SIDE OF A CLIFF? What about the donkeys that will push you to the side if you don’t move out of the way? DO THEY TELL YOU WHAT HIKING INTO HAVASU CANYON IS REALLY LIKE?!?

Don’t worry y’all, that’s what I’m here for.

I usually like to keep my silly stories short and to the point, but I don’t think that’s going to work with this one. If you’re hiking into Havasupai, you’re going to need the complete picture. If you’ve seen my Instagram story (currently a highlight on my profile @theawkwardtraveller), then the first part will be a little bit of a recap.

Alright, now without further ado, let’s start from the beginning.

As with literally every hike I plan, this one started with me running late. I stayed overnight at the Grand Canyon Canvern Inn, which is the closest hotel/motel to the trailhead. It’s about an hour drive to the trail head. I think I started driving out around…9am? The drive to the trailhead is straightforward. Literally, it’s just one long road, but it’s very scenic. The plains are very lush and beautiful, completely opposite of 99% of Arizona.

And then the cows appear.

I went in March, so I don’t if that’s birthing season for cows, but there were tons of cute little calves everywhere! Baby cows are SO STINKING CUTE!! But alas, they were hopping around and sometimes standing in the middle of the road. Be careful on the drive and keep an eye out for the free range cattle!

So we park at the trailhead. There weren’t any helicopters taking off, but the lot was pretty packed. I managed to squeeze in a spot on the side of the cliff. Yanno. No big deal. I spent a solid 10 minutes trying to get my backpack on and get it all strapped in, but woohoo, I was ready for the hike! For breakfast, I had a whopping 7 cups of orange juice. My bladder felt like someone had tried to dam Niagara Falls. Okay, so bathroom break first. There was one porta-potty at the trailhead.

It was. Disgusting.

Absolutely rancid.

But let’s not dwell on that. I left the porta potty and immediately  dropped my phone. It hit the gravel flat on the glass, and I just knew. I picked it up, and the screen was cracked and pieces of the glass had chipped off. Perfect.

We began the descent in Havasu Canyon.

I’ll be honest, I got a $50 gift card to Cabela’s, so that’s where I bought my backpack. It looked good when I bought it! But as I started walking, something felt off. My backpack was too long and was literally only two inches lower than my head. Plus, I’m pretty sure I packed it wrong. 30 minutes in and my back was already hurting. Perfect.

It was approaching 10am, and thankfully the sun wasn’t boiling yet. But my shoe laces kept coming untied every 17 steps! Like, what the heck?! I also attempted using my stabilizer so I could vlog the whole thing, but it kept buzzing and screeching at me. AND I WAS HUNGRY. Dumb orange juice. My mood perked up a little when I saw the mules! They weren’t carrying anything, so I was guessing they were headed to the trailhead to help hikers at the top. Would’ve been NICE IF THEY WERE THERE 2 HOURS AGO, but I digress. I should’ve thought about that before, no need to blame the mules.

“Hello cute little mule!” I smiled and waved at the new group of mules approaching the thin path. “How are you doing today? 🙂 ”

The mule shoulder checked me out of the way.

Then I stepped in mule poop.

Perfect.

Once I reached the base of the Havasu Canyon, the hiking was a little better. Well, aside from my shoulder screaming in agony. I managed to hike a solid 3 hours before it felt like my stomach was turning inside out from hungry pains. I took out my bag of hiking snacks, opened the most appetizing, and snorted a blue Pixie Stick. The sugar rush hit me like a ton of bricks and I WAS BACK IN A GOOD MOOD!

But then my left foot hit a weird rock and I twisted my ankle. Then the sugar wore off.

Perfect.

And then I tripped again, but this time the weight of my backpack threw me to the ground.

WHY WAS LIFE SO HARDDD.

4 hours into the hike. There were no signs of getting any closer. I had to walk on the inside of my foot and the dumb sleeping bag kept swinging side to side because it was too big to fit in my backpack so I had to attach it to the bottom like a giant marshmallow pendulum.

We were walking through some cool rock formations at the bottom when I noticed I couldn’t see the details too clearly. What the…wasn’t I wearing glasses just a minute ago? I checked my face, my hair, the easily accessible parts of my backpack…but nope. My glasses were gone. I still couldn’t figure out my stabilizer. My shoulder felt like needles were pressing into my thoracic spine. My hips were sore from the lower backpack straps and hurt with every step. Somehow rocks had gotten into my hiking boots. Oh, and I WAS STILL HUNGRY. Also, there were these really annoying signs that kept saying “you’re almost there!” and “Village just across the bridge!”

The signs lied.

5.5 hours, we finally reached Supai. Well. The outskirts. There was a small market store that advertised hamburgers and hot food for sale. I didn’t know where to order the hot food though and I was too nervous to ask, so I just bought some fresh cut watermelon, pringles, and like 15 beef jerky sticks.

Apparently bees really like fresh cut watermelon too because I was swarmed as soon as I stepped back outside.

WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY.

Another 15 minutes or so of hobbling, I made it to the main village of Supai.

AND THEN THERE’S ANOTHER 2 MILES OF HIKING TO GET TO THE CAMPGROUND. Though, idk cuz it sure felt a lot longer than 2 miles. I had to stop under every shaded tree just to catch my breath. But at least there were waterfalls along the way.

I’ll skip the pleasantries of my stay at the campground and proceed to the SHOCKING CONCLUSION. THE JOURNEY OUT OF HAVASU CANYON.

DUN DUN DUNNNNN.

So, the night before we needed to hike out, my foot was swollen and just thinking about the hike out crushed my soul. The dried food I had brought on the trip was gross and borderline inedible. A diet of only Slim Jims and Starbursts left me feeling weak and tired. I barely had the strength to hold up my camera for a selfie, let alone hike all the way back out with equipment that would never fold up as small at it was before. What I needed was a way out.

I hobbled over to one of the Havasupai teenagers, frying donuts for hungry campers. They only accepted cash, so I’d have to continue starving. I asked if there were any helicopters flying people out tomorrow.

They said no.

Well shoot. I stumbled my way over to another young fella, who was tying up a few mules to a post. I asked if I could rent a pack mule to haul my backpack out. If I could at least shed some weight, maybe I could make it out of Havasu Canyon alive.

The young man scratched his chin. “Mmm, yeah, I don’t know, usually you have to reserve them the day before. But you should ask the ranger. They’ll be down around 9pm.”

So I went back to my tent for a few hours before walking back to the ranger’s little house. I saw a headlamp and a flashlight bouncing down the path toward me. “Excuse me,” I started, once the ranger was within earshot. “I was wondering if–”

But he cut me off. “I’m sorry, I’m actually really busy. There is a medical emergency, someone has a severe head injury and we are trying to locate them. Have you seen anyone hurt?”

“Aww…no I haven’t, sorry to hear that.” I paused. “But also, do you know anything about the mules?”

He had already walked away, promising me that another ranger would come down to the ranger shed soon. I waited for an hour at the picnic table near the shed. This would be a good time to note that I only packed a very thin jacket and I was so cold that I had snot icicles hanging from my nostrils.

Finally, another ranger showed up. I asked him the same thing and he used his walkie talkie to ask the office if there were any available mules.

The office said no. Very loudly.

I went to bed that night cold, heart broken, and still thinking about the person who split their head open. They would probably be airlifted out.

By helicopter.

…

…

…nah, better not risk it.

So I woke up that morning in a pretty PERFECT mood. Half of my supplies were hanging off my bag because I couldn’t stuff them back in. My shoes were soggy from accidentally slipping in a creek the day before and my hair looked like a bird’s nest. I ate my last Slim Jim and I had a bug bite the size of a dime on my face. And of course, once again, I had woken up late and I would be hiking at the peak of the sun’s heat. What a great day to hike 12 miles to the top of Havasu Canyon.

While I was enchanted by the beauty before, now the water held an ominous blue glow as I passed them. The babbling brooks snorted at my pathetic attempts to hold myself upright. An ant told me to get out of the way, I was backing up traffic.

But at that moment, I heard a loud whirling above me. I looked up and caught the tailwind of a helicopter passing overhead.

THERE WAS STILL HOPE.

I dragged myself the rest of the way to the village. It was surprisingly empty of tourists. When I reached the helicopter guy, he barely looked up at me. I cleared my sore throat to get his attention. “Excuse me, um, is the helicopter operational?”

He looked over at the parked helicopter that had just landed.

I quickly rephrased, “What I meant was, can I take that helicopter out?”

“$85.”

Considering I would have sawed off my own leg to avoid hiking out, that sounded like a deal. I pulled out my card.

He shook his head, “Sorry, cash or money order only.”

“Oh…um…I have neither of those.” Perfect.

The man shrugged, because frankly that was not his problem. “You can try asking the office. They might be able to charge you $85 on your card and then give you money out the till.”

I hobbled to the office to ask if I could somehow get cash from them. The office said no. Very loudly. They did, however, suggest I head to the post office to get a money order. They take cards there. So I hobbled back the way I came to the post office. It was a small little building. The woman smiled up from her desk when I entered. She helped me with my money order request, pulling out the card reader and placing it on the counter. I was almost out of Havasu Canyon. I slipped my card in….but…then it asked for a pin number.

“Oh, sorry,” I laughed, nervously, “this is a credit card, not debit. Can we do it over as a credit card?”

“Ah, well. This only takes debit cards.”

“I…do not have a debit card on me.” I felt my heart plummeting the the soles of my soggy shoes. “Is there any way to make a credit card work?”

“I think you can try calling your bank and setting up a pin number. That could work.”

“Right…right…” So there was still hope. Alright, come on Kay, pick yourself up here! I nodded, shrugging off my backpack so I could get my phone. “I’ll do that right now! I’ll be right back!”

“Yeah, okay,” she walked back to her desk. “Also, just a heads up, the post office is actually closing in 15 minutes. So..”

“15 minutes?!?” I repeated.

She smiled, because frankly that was not her problem.

I hurried out of the door to make the phone call.

This would be a good time to note that I had absolute CRAP service in the village. But luckily there was a small resemblance of service, unlike during the hike through Havasu Canyon. There was still a chance. So there I was, balanced on the side of a fence and angled so my back was at a 187 degree angle so I could scrape together 3 bars of signal. The cracked glass dug into my cheek as I held up my phone and waited for a bank representative to answer.

When he finally picked up, I quickly relayed my situation. “Need to make a pin number for my credit card so it can be used as a debit card. In a time sensitive situation. Plz help.”

“Ma’am, are you being held at gunpoint?”

“JUST HELP ME.”

“Alright, no problem! Did you know you could withdraw money from an ATM using your card?”

“Aha, yeah I did. But you see the thing is, I am kind of in the middle of nowhere right now and all I have is a post office that takes debit cards so I would really appreciate a pin number. Like. Now.”

“Alright, no problem! You can walk into any bank to set up your pin.”

“SIR. I don’t think you understand. I AM LITERALLY IN A CANYON.” The desperation in my voice was spiraling into hysteria.

He paused. I could hear him tap his pen against his desk. “Huh. Well, I mean, using your credit card as a debit card has a lot of fees like [insert useless numbers that he rambled on about THAT I CARED ZERO PERCENT ABOUT]. So, would you still like to set up a pin?”

I looked at the clock on my phone. He had wasted 6 minutes. “YES. PLEASE.”

“Alright no problem! Just follow the automated setup procedure.”

So I followed the automated setup procedure, though I initially kept spelling my mother’s maiden name wrong so that ate up about 4 minutes alone. At the end, they alerted that my pin would be arriving to my house by mail in 2-3 weeks.

 

….

Deep breaths Kay.

….

I hung up the phone, slowly clenching and unclenching my fists. That couldn’t be the only option. There was a small money office, whatever that means, in the village, but they also only took debit. Then they told me to try the main office to see if I could get cash.

That was it. That was the end. I was going to die in Havasu Canyon. The post office closed in 2 minutes anyway. With my head hung low, I pulled my backpack of bricks on my back and started off.

Until I saw someone talking to the helicopter guy. The glint of her red card caught my eye.

Ladies and gentleman, that was what hope looked like. I summoned the strength of my ancestors and hurried over to her, a crazed look in my eye. “Hey! Excuse me!”

She looked up at me.

“Is that,” I pointed to her card. “Is that a debit card?”

She nodded, “Yeah, but they only take cash and there’s no ATMs.”

“OKAY SO THE POST OFFICE IS CLOSING LIKE RIGHT NOW.” I WAS LITERALLY SCREAMING AT HER (I apologize for doing that, btw, I didn’t mean to shout) “IF YOU GET THERE YOU CAN BUY A MONEY ORDER!”

I saw a fire ignite in her eyes. “Oh my God.” And then the fire was burning. “Oh my GOD. OKAY! YEAH! WHERE IS IT?!”

“OVER HERE!” And then we were sprinting. I don’t know where the energy came from. It was pure adrenaline. We dashed across the village. I dropped my backpack in the middle of the dirt road, feeling weightless as a bird as we soared to the post office.

She was right at my side, her dark hair flowing behind her. She yelled out to her friends who were standing in the shade. “GUYS! GRAB MY BACKPACK! WE’RE GETTING OUT!”

I cleared my throat. “Oh, yeah, and also…do you have venmo by chance?”

She nodded.

“Do you think you could also spot me a helicopter ride?”

“Yeah sure!”

I have never fallen in love so fast before.

We -respectfully- rushed into the post office, panting and trying to catch our breath. I waved to the post woman, who smiled at us. “Hi, um, can we buy money orders now?”

As the post woman started setting up the money order process, the girl’s friends rushed into the building. All four of them. The girl inserted her card, buying 5 tickets for her group. I gulped, remembering my own bank account. Under my breath I said to her, “Um, so…you still got me, right?”

“Yeah, I got you.”

Thank God for financially responsibly young adults.

All of us left the post office laughing and smiling. I was the last to hand my money order to the helicopter guy. He looked down at it, then back up at me. “Oh, sorry, after 5 people, the price increases to $100.”

…

…

He cracked a smile.

I laughed, nervously, “Geez man, I’ve got a frail heart over here!” We boarded the helicopter – my first time in a helicopter!! – and it was AMAZING. Not just because I wasn’t hiking, but really, maneuvering through the Havasu Canyon…was incredible. The colors of Havasu Canyon were even more incredible from the sky. It took maybe 80 seconds to reach the top. The helicopter dropped us off at the parking lot and I said goodbye to my savior.

She will always have a special place in my heart.

And there you have it folks. The complete story of my journey into and out of Havasu Canyon. There were…a lot of things I could have done differently to be more prepared, but sometimes…things just don’t go so well. The important thing is that I learned a lesson or two…maybe…right?

Until next time Havasu Canyon. Until next time.

If you’d like to read more stories about times where I’ve almost died, check out my stories tab in the menu! And check out another part of the Grand Canyon that is…slightly easier on the knees, Guano Point!

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