Weather: mostly sunny, with light cloud, hot
Having got up at 8.15, I had a breakfast of pancakes at the next-door diner. Unfortunately I had not quite realised what I had ordered: unlike the pancakes I was used to, these were very thick and filling, and indeed rather bland even when soaked in the syrup provided.
I took the road south towards the North Rim of the Grand Canyon, stopping briefly at a point offering a view of part of the range of so-called Vermillion Cliffs to the north, admiring the view and trying to ignore the Native American traders, there in spite of prominent ``no trading'' signs. About the only other notable event en route was my passing through the small town of Fredonia, reminding me of the fictional country in the film ``Duck Soup''.
A few miles further on, at Jacob's Lake, the main road turns to the east while another road heads through the Kaibab National forest for fifty miles or so further south to the North Rim of the Grand Canyon. This is the only road to the North Rim (other than a handful of unmade forest tracks), and its remoteness together with the fact that it is frequently snow-bound in winter means that the North Rim is far less popular than the South Rim. Even though the two rim visitor stations are only fifteen miles apart as the crow flies, the only routes between them are a drive of well over two hundred miles or a very strenuous two-day hike of around nearly thirty miles (generally done north to south, as the North Rim is around 300 metres higher).
Upon arrival at the Visitor Center at the rim, I first took a short walk out to Bright Angel Point, which offers a superb view of the canyon at its most magnificent, dominated by elaborate exotically-named mesas. From a leafy side canyon, a gushing sound could be heard: this was the noise of the aptly-named Roaring Springs, a significant water source which is tapped to provide for both rims. The electricity cables running down to the springs were one of the few signs of human presence in the canyon; few if any features were visible on the South Rim, despite our facing the Grand Canyon Village complex.
I had a rather indifferent sandwich lunch at the lodge cafeteria, which had been positioned so as to take full advantage of the location in a bland, featureless room. I noted that more exciting views were on offer in parts of the adjacent hotel and from many of its log cabins, sited among the trees between the car park and the rim.
Two further viewpoints on the North Rim are accessible by road, Cape Royal and Point Imperial. The former, 27 miles by road from the lodge, is particularly notable as the only point on the North Rim from which the water of the mighty Colorado River responsible for the surrounding landscape is visible, though as a seemingly-placid waterway several miles to the southeast and a mile below in elevation. The river view could be nicely framed through the natural rock window of Angel's Window, presenting an excellent photo-opportunity. I noticed a spider busily spinning its web, seemingly oblivious to the vertigo-inducing precariousness of its chosen website.
A short detour on the way back took me to Point Imperial, at 2685 metres the highest point on either rim of the canyon. This viewpoint looks over the meandering path of the Colorado River across the Painted Desert, under the Vermillion Cliffs that mark the start of the next layer of rock of the ``Grand Staircase'' of progressively younger rocks which ends with the cliffs of Bryce Canyon.
By this time I was slightly worried as to my fuel situation. I had last filled up in Springdale and was now running fairly low, particularly after a detour of over fifty miles to the viewpoints, no doubt with the high altitude adding to the car's considerable thirst. I remembered I had passed a filling station at some point on my way between Jacob's Lake and the rim, but could not remember exactly where, nor could I be sure it would be open. Fortunately it was, and with a full tank I was able to proceed less frugally up to Jacob's Lake, where I took the road to the east.
This route traverses what is known as the ``Arizona Strip'', the section of land bounded by the Grand Canyon to the south and the Utah border to the north; indeed it might have made more sense for it to have been incorporated into Utah save for the cartographer's fondness for straight lines. Until the 1920s, the area's sole link with the rest of the state was via a ferry service at Lee's Ferry, long regarded as the point at which the Colorado River first enters the 277 mile gorge which becomes the Grand Canyon. The site is named after John Doyle Lee, who by many accounts was a particularly unpleasant character, exiled from Utah for his alleged part in the Mountain Meadows massacre. (This was an incident in 1857 in which 120 settlers were slaughtered, very probably by Mormons, during the early days of the youthful Mormon nation.) The construction of a road bridge six miles downstream over Marble Canyon made the area's tenuous connection with the rest of the state slightly more secure, but it remains a remote and isolated area to this day.
The road followed a long, downward path towards Marble Canyon, passing alongside the colourful Vermillion Cliffs, now close by and forming a splendid backdrop against the broad surrounding plains, interrupted only by the meandering gorge of the river.
A few miles further on, I reached Marble Canyon, a settlement too insignificant to be classed as a town but which included the Marble Canyon Trading Post and Lodge, an expanse of wooden-clad buildings dating back to the 1920s. I had been considering travelling as far as the town of Page that evening, but inspection of the map revealed that it was a considerable distance further on and so I decided instead to stay at the lodge despite accommodation being a little expensive at $57.00.
After settling into the room, I went to the restaurant next door, where I had a chicken salad for dinner. Over dinner I realised from pictures around the restaurant that the lodge was a mere 400 metres up the road from Navajo Bridge, the road bridge over the Colorado River - I had realised it must be reasonably close but not appreciated quite how near.
Given this realisation, I took a walk down the road after dinner, the light of the full moon (and occasional passing truck) providing adequate light to see by once my eyes had become accustomed. A cluster of bright lights illuminated the area around the obligatory Visitor Center (closed) and enabled me to read various information boards explaining the history of the bridge. A second bridge over Marble Canyon had been built a few years previously, identical to the elegant arching steel form of the original but 2.5 times wider, much more suited to modern traffic. The original has been retained as a footbridge, and I carried on to stand on the bridge and admire the surroundings, the steep cliffs of Marble Canyon leading down to the river around 100 metres below. The Vermillion Cliffs again provided the backdrop, hints of their deep colours still visible. To the south was the second Navajo Bridge, the last road bridge across the river until Hoover Dam, almost four hundred miles downstream (a lightweight suspension bridge in the heart of the Grand Canyon allows hikers and mules to cross between the two segments of the rim-to-rim Bright Angel Trail).
It took a few minutes to walk across the gorge, and having done so I turned back again. As well as taking in my surroundings, I cast an eye upwards: for once I had an opportunity to view the Milky Way.
I headed back to my room, still appreciating the wonder of my post-prandial stroll. I could truthfully say I had crossed the Grand Canyon twice that evening, though I will admit that it is a considerably less strenuous undertaking at Mile Six than in its heart.
Having returned, I soon retired to bed (around 22:30), not least in an attempt to keep myself on Utah time as I intended to head back there the next day.