By Chad Zaback
In the spring of 1992 our fearless leader Doug Berg led a group of eight Mini-School students (Chris Bagdons, Josh Rockstad, Mike Heuerman, Jesse “The Bod” Carlson, Terry Vincent, Chad Zaback, Meatball and Karlene “Token Woman” Knacke ) and one veteran (Jim “J.J.” Jensen) into the great southwest U.S. We covered a lot of ground on our journey from the armory in Colorado Springs to the neighboring Garden of the Gods (a boulder garden) on through New Mexico with its great temperature confusion–going from 95° to 100° days in Santa Fe to a cool 30’s night in the Rockies.
We finally reached Grand Canyon Village on the southern rim of the Grand Canyon. We arrived at Grand Canyon Village mid-morning and found our campsite. Before unloading anything, we went to check out the surroundings—more tourist traps, a restaurant with everything. A couple of us wandered into a gift shop and Terry found a fake snake. It was very realistic at a glance (I jumped a good two feet!)
That evening after setting up camp and eating, we wandered back into town and called our loved ones one last time before going into the great pit.
We woke up early enough to be the first guests in a nearby restaurant. After a good meal in a nice warm building we headed out into the frigid Arizona morning to pack our gear. We packed, stuffed, sorted and restuffed until everything was in the packs.
When I picked up my pack there was something wrong. I could barely lift it.
“Let the Penance begin!!”
After we realized what we had gotten ourselves into, the journey began.
After the first hour my head was throbbing, and I could barely see straight. For some time I was convinced it was my time to die. We stopped for lunch around noon. I couldn’t stand up, or eat, so I just kinda lay there trying to regain enough strength to reach my last peppermint. I placed it in my mouth, sat back and waited for it to kick in. Within 10 minutes or so, I felt the kick, power the boost. It was a total second wind. I picked up my pack and went. I went real hard for over an hour. Then we stopped and waited for the slow pokes to catch up. By the time we got down to the river it was almost dark and we still had to hike 3 more hours until we got to our campsite.
The next morning we woke up and Doug had something cooking — a birthday cake for Josh and me — and Josh’s mom sent a card down with Doug. That afternoon we hiked to the next campsite where we would be for 2 days. It took about 4 hours to get there but it was definitely worth the hike. This place was sweet—plenty of beach, although the water was ice cold and very sandy (brown). Behind us was an old copper mine that we all did a little exploring in. The next day we went for a hike up to the little Colorado River. We were almost there, and half of the group wimped out and wanted to go back. So JJ., Jesse, Terry, and I finished up. The Little Colorado was right around the corner. Another 1/2 hour, and they would have all had a chance to see it. I imagine it doesn’t sound too thrilling seeing a river, but this was cool. The Colorado is crystal clear until the Little Colorado comes into it. It’s flooding and very dirty. It’s one of those things you can’t explain. You just have to see it for yourself. So we screwed around there for awhile. Jesse got stuck in some quicksand. I pulled him out and almost dropped his camera in the river. Then we headed back to camp and made it back by dark— barely. The next day Doug had us go out and do a solo. We were by ourselves, out of sight and sound of anyone else for 3 hours.
After that we hiked back to the bottom of the trail going out and waited for another dinner. When I was going through my pack, I remembered the can of Mountain Dew I smuggled down. I threw it in the river and let it cool off. This was probably the tastiest, most refreshing can of pop I’ve every had! (ahhhh!) The next morning we split up into smaller groups. Terry, Jesse and I made it up in under five hours. J.J. hiked out a day before us and came back down half way to meet us. Finally, after everyone was out of hell, we went back to Grand Canyon Village and showered. You will never appreciate clean running water more than after not having it for a week, being covered with sand and sweat, dirt and grime. It’s more than nice—it’s heaven.
All in all, I would have to say this trip was awesome, but the drive home was difficult.
It’s hard to spend three weeks with the same people and then shove them all in a van for three thousand miles! By the time we reached Iowa, we were all ready to kill each other for food, so we stopped at a friendly McDonald’s, devoured our food and called our loved ones to pick us up soon.
Now we’re home, safe and sound, out of da Barge, so kiss the ground!!