Big rocks, an invisible waterfall and an unmanned lighthouse on the edge of Skye

Legend has it that the Old Man of Storr, a rock that juts out from one of the Isle of Skye’s many steep hillsides, was the marker for a great Viking to hide his treasure in the mid-10^th century. The rock is 48 meters high, and is clearly visible from the straight between Skye and it’s neighbor, the Isle of Rasaay.

And, in fact, a hoard of Viking gold was found buried near the beach in 1890.

The Old Man of Storr is the dark rock that looks like an arrowhead to the right of the frame. It looks small and low on the hill from this angle. But I took this shot from about two miles down the coast. 

Walking around and up to the Old Man of Storr was among the many hiking highlights Skye had to offer. The early part of the trail was pretty crowded, but the higher I hiked, the fewer people were around.

Some folks are taking photos of the view. I took this on my climb up. (The Old Man of Storr is the rock to the left.

One of many times I asked a fellow traveler/tourist to take my picture with my camera in exchange for me taking their picture with theirs. I ultimately hiked over to those rocks to climb up to the base of the Old Man of Storr. 

My second hike on this day was to an inland waterfall about three miles off the coast with views like these on the way: 

With this stream flowing at a good pace, I was optimistic there would be a majestic waterfall from the source. 

Alas, it was not to be. The waterfall was a mere trickle on the mountain behind me because of the (relatively) dry weather lately. Lionel from Manchester, a fellow hiker and Isle of Skye veteran, was the only other person I saw on this trek. He took my photo before we walked back together. 

While I took several other walks while on Skye, the third major one was my hike to the Neist lighthouse on Skye's west coast. This one attracts heavy traffic from tourists, which explains why the roads to this part of the island look like they've been hit by a meteor shower. 

They say this is a prime spot for whale and dolphin watching, but not on this morning with rather rough waters. This was the best I could do on an overcast, misty conditions: 

The lighthouse is unmanned. Apparently Neist was the setting for the 1996 film "Breaking the Waves" and the 2012 movie "47 Ronin," according to this bit of tourism info. 

Also along the rocks near the lighthouse were more cairns, including this architecturally inventive one.  

My last "hike" was an impromptu sprint up three hills as I was driving south off the island. I came around a bend and saw a beautiful view of the Loch Bracadale on the western coast, so when I came to a pull-off spot on the next hill, I parked. I ran across the road, over a fence and up a hill past the sheep, then over two more hills onto a plateau overlooking the Loch and across to Idrigill Point.

Even a cloudy day can't completely mask the incredible views of Skye. 

Elizabeth's POV: The terrible, horrible, no good, very bad hike at the Grand Canyon

No one has ever mistaken me for a nature girl. I have steadfastly refused to "camp" through 12 years of marriage, much to Ryan's dismay (those early years of Girl Scout camping thoroughly cured me of any desire to sleep, cook or use the bathroom outdoors). Earlier on this trip, Gena asked with obvious concern whether I had even brought sneakers on the trip. (I reassured her that I had.)

Therefore, I was trepidatious about the Grand Canyon leg of this vacation. Ryan kept talking about hiking - wandering aimlessly on trails 6 to 8 miles long in blazing heat. Obviously I survived, but it was a tough day. Ryan on several occasions accused me of "Brooke-ing" it - a reference that likely will make sense only if you watched the 29th season of the Amazing Race.

Early on in our hike. Notice the lack of a smile. 

The National Park Service tells you to expect any hike to take twice as long on the way up. Hike down into the Grand Canyon an hour, and expect it to take two to get back. Inexplicably to me, it gets far hotter as you go down - it was around 87 degrees at the rim Friday but 109 at the bottom. The park was under an extreme heat alert.

We left for our hike about 8:45 a.m. They really recommend that you leave earlier than that to avoid hiking during the worst of the sun (10 a.m.-4p.m.). I didn't really enjoy the way down because I was too nervous about tripping and about how far Ryan was going to push us to go. Fortunately, I think Ryan got some really nice pictures that I can look at later.

A view from not-quite-halfway down the trail. 

The way back was torture. I stopped -- literally -- at every shady rock or after five minutes, whichever came first. Even Ryan admitted afterward that my face was such a vivid shade of red that he wasn't sure I was going to make it.

 I had no idea Ryan snapped this shot, but I remember exactly what I was thinking: How am I ever going to get all the way back up there?

But I did. I'm not eager to do it again, but I did come away with some valuable lessons that I now call "The Indoor Girl's Guide to Surviving the Grand Canyon" (patent pending):

1. Buy hiking boots. My sneakers didn't give me enough grip on the clay trails, and I slid often. I also didn't have the ankle support that I needed. Alternatively, I might have fared better with walking sticks to improve my balance.
2. Pack higher sunscreen than you think you'll need. The NPS recommends SPF 50 at minimum. We had that on our arms and legs, but I could have used it for my face, too. Also remember to reapply sunscreen after you get to the top of the trail because you will have sweated most of it off.
3. Bring one more bottle of water than you think you'll need. We drained 4 bottles, then refilled them on the way back. We ultimately had one left at the top. I had to persuade Ryan to bring the 4th, but even he admitted it was a good idea afterward. 
4. Make sure your salty snack (to off-set your water intake) actually contains salt. We brought low-sodium trail mix by accident. Gena also recommended bringing Gatorade; helpful advice that we ignored because I think Gatorade tastes disgusting. But we bought a bottle after reaching the rim, and I don't think anything has ever tasted better in my entire life. 
5. Sunglasses and a hat are essential. Lighter-colored clothes are recommended and would have been nice. I didn't have any, since I almost exclusively travel with black clothes to avoid ruining them with my constant spills. No matter what color you wear, you will be coated in red dust that has mixed with your sweat to form a gross paste. 
6. Go at 5 a.m. Even though you think nothing civilized happens that early in the morning, you will save yourself a world of pain by being off the trail by 9.
7. Remember that your Significant Other has many great qualities, even if none of them were on display on this particular day. And hope that your SO remembers the same about you.

   

   Ryan in his "King of the World" moment at the nadir of our hike. 

8. Never ever hike with someone training for a marathon. Ryan ran a half in April and is training for the full 26.2 in September. I am in better shape than I have been in years thanks to two months of barre and Pilates classes that have strengthened my legs and core. Still, I did not have the fitness level to go as far as I did, and should have argued more firmly with Ryan about it. His energy and enthusiasm were super annoying - he never sat down once and when we got to the top, we said "Ready to hike the rim trail?" In the blazing sun! For miles! Next time, I'll be sure to invite friends to come with us - one who can go my pace and one who can go his. Otherwise, I fear the result will be either death or divorce. 

Dessert in the desert was the highlight of the day. 

For Ryan's radically different perspective, read this post.

Ryan's POV: At the Grand Canyon, everything is awesome

What a sight.

Hiking is awesome (lots of exclamation points). Hiking the Grand Canyon is awesomer (even more exclamation points) because it lends itself to epic challenges – the kind myths are made of: Humans versus nature; Humans versus gravity; Humans versus mortality; Humans versus humans with selfie sticks.

Our Grand Canyon trip had all the major elements of a classic heroic tale that Joseph Campbell outlined. He’s the guy who figured out that myths across different cultures -- and even modern epic stories such as Star Wars – have the same key plot points. Now we can add “Ryan and Elizabeth’s Grand Canyon hike” to that canon.


First, the call to adventure

Adventure awaits!

Naturally, for us, it was seeing the enormous gorge that plunges more than 6,000 feet. It’s obviously meant to be trekked or climbed or somehow experienced – not just seen from a distance. Otherwise, it’s just a “big hole with lots of rocks,” as Gena and John’s daughter Ellie described the Grand Canyon when she was three.

Granted, it was supposed to be 109 degrees down in the canyon on the day we decided to go. And yes, the trail is steep in places. And the occasional misstep could drop you several hundred feet. So there might have been some initial hesitance on Elizabeth’s part. But that’s what has to happen for heroes – an initial refusal of the call to adventure. It’s like when Luke Skywalker first ignores the instinct to help Princess Leia because he feels obligated to help Uncle Owen with the harvest.


Crossing the first threshold

Nevertheless, a reluctant Elizabeth and I set off from our cabin and down the Bright Angel Trail on Friday morning. The plan was to walk a couple miles down, then turn around -- and not to go the full six miles to the Colorado River, which the Grand Canyon folks strongly discourage doing in one day during the hot season. https://www.nps.gov/grca/planyourvisit/upload/brightangeltrail.pdf

But not even a mile into our hike, Elizabeth made it clear that she was not impressed. I think her exact words were: “OK, can we turn around now?” This was a bit worrisome because, at that point, we were still going downhill.


Initiation and road of trials

We pushed on. There were pictures to take.

Long way down. 

And all kinds of people of all ages were working their way up and down the trail. One guy was running it. Presumably he was going to run back up, but I really didn’t want to stick around to find out. Heroes don’t get lapped.

We did have to dodge other trail-blocking tourists with their selfie sticks, which really should be sold with companion self-awareness sticks to protect others – and sometimes the users themselves. One lady told us a ranger said 34 people died at the Grand Canyon the first year of the selfie stick and eight already fell to their deaths this year, she said. Those numbers don’t seem to be accurate, according to a review of news articles and a FiveThirtyEight analysis of Grand Canyon deaths.

In fact, it seems that environmental factors, such as dying of dehydration or extreme heat, is a bigger concern than falling, according to the authors of a Grand Canyon death book called “Over the Edge.” (What else would it be called?)

So it’s a good thing Elizabeth had us pack four bottles of water.

On we went, forging ahead past the 2-mile rest-stop. We had gone far enough that the condors that circle the canyon were now above us, though I couldn’t seem to figure out the camera’s manual settings fast enough to get decent snapshots of them.

But there was other wildlife to capture.

This little guy posed for the camera.

This bighorn sheep ran down the side of a cliff across the canyon from us.  Yay for the zoom lens. 

Woman as temptress

Elizabeth: Can we please turn around now?!?!?

Ryan: Just a little farther.


More trials

A few twists and turns beyond the 2-mile mark, Elizabeth’s cheeks began looking flushed. So we started heading the two-and-a-half miles back up. Straight up at some points, although we somehow were passed by a few people in their 70s because we kept stopping to rest. (I’m not complaining, I’m just sayin’ …)

Yep, that's a sign with a dude puking.

The ultimate boon

We achieved the goal of the quest and finally made it back to the top. We were not lapped by the runner. And we did the five-mile round trip in three hours.


Temptation away from the true path

OK, this one really doesn’t work if you take it literally. Neither of us was tempted to walk/fall off the trail.

Figuratively, though, Elizabeth did suggest several times that we should take a shuttle bus (a shuttle bus!?!?!) to one of the western points to watch the sunset.


Apotheosis

This, according to Campbell is the point in which the hero realizes a greater understanding. For me and Elizabeth, I think it was the realization that flatter, shadier paths are a happy compromise.

So we agreed to start walking the rim path and perhaps catch a shuttle to the farthest lookout point.

Happy apotheosis!

The magic flight

After walking about three miles around the rim trail, we settled in to watch the sunset at the second-to-last watch point. That’s where I finally got my condor action shots (after about 40 tries).

I have a lot of crappy, blurry far-away shots, so this was the best I got. 

Without any clouds, the sunset was kind of a monochrome gold, rather than a burst of magentas, blues and lavenders, but overall it was good.

Refusal of the return

Elizabeth: Should we take the shuttle back?

Ryan: Nah, the line’s too long. Who wants to stand around like cattle. Let’s hoof it.


The crossing of the return threshold

Clearly, heroes aren’t always smart. We started walking the three miles back in the fast-fading light with the wildlife (coyotes?) lurking in the darkness. Shuttle buses kept passing us. And we returned to the village just as the final hues of twilight disappeared.


Freedom to live

This is where Campbell says the hero learns to live in the moment. No regrets. No fear. Just an epic blog post to write.

Also check out Elizabeth's more tragic take on our epic Grand Canyon experience.