Last weekend spent the entire three days in meetings. First the GCFI annual instructor round-up, then two days at the GCFI sponsored Guide Training Seminar. I always learn something new. This time I got to tour the rim with a local historian who gave me all sorts of tidbits I can use when I take people around.

This weekend, Brad was in a meeting Friday, so I worked on the online college class I am taking, then walked the rim trail. Saturday we drove to Flag so Brad could train to be an Odyssey of the Mind judge, and Sunday we hiked to Indian Garden and out. It was foggy on the way down, but cleared up and was actually warm at IG. Two hours and 5 minutes out, and it was really slow in the slush. I prefer the ice, because I don't slip back with every step I take. Spring must be here: I picked up orange peels and a face mask (yuck) on the way out, and saw someone cut a switchback. Their rationale: the trail was too muddy.

Got out of the corridor this weekend to do a Hermit Bright Angel. Met one guy who camped (probably illegally -- no permit) at Hermit on his way to Horn. He said we should have camped in the overhang to get away from the dew, and I said, "Yeah, except it is illegal." He grinned, "You pays your money and you takes your chances". Except since I didn't see a permit, perhaps he did not pay his money.

Weather was nice: ice on the trails is melting fast. Lots of mud. The mules really tear up the trail when it is wet.

It was cold and we got dewed upon because we are too stubborn to put up a tent. Found some nice fossils. Indian Garden had no one at 3 PM and by dark it was almost full. Quiet, though. The gal next to us never made a sound, but she was chain smoking. I managed to carry my thumb drives down: they were in my jacket pocket. Baked a chocolate cake at Indian garden for Valentine's Day but it didn't work quite right.

When we were at Cinch-up, a young lad stopped me and asked if I would mind being in a movie. I replied, "I am ready for my close-up, Mr. Lucas". They are making a new orientation film for the new visitor center, and I might be in it. I suppose the skirt and the purple top (which perfectly matched the purple ear band) were hard to pass up.

Hiked to Phantom this weekend. Brad had to attend a class in Flag, so he didn't get to hike down in the storm.

Going down there was a bighorn leading the mules out. I guess like the snowplow for the train?

Got in about 3, then on the layover day we hiked to Clear Creek and watched the storm move in. Gail and Mike hiked to Ribbon Falls, but got rained on. I sat by the canteen watching the world go by and got to talk with Ranger Patrick and Ranger Matt. I figure if one sits at Phantom long enough, everyone one knows (who hikes) will come by.

In the cabin, reached over to get my headband and there was a bark scorpion on the clock. I guess the clock was the warmest place. Put it in a cup and carried it outside. Lori Rome has told me about scorpion karma: squish a scorpion and get bit: and I wasn't going to tempt it. I did, however, get bit by a spider that night, so maybe the spider was jealous.

The roof in cabin eight leaks. Made a big puddle that got my pack wet. So I want a refund, Xanterra. Rain all night, a little snow on the way out, and everyone took off home to beat the storm.

Hiked down to Skeleton today. South Kaibab is pretty iffy. They apparently shoved the top two switchbacks, but then one is on one's own. In places the drifts were shoulder high. Some of the trail leaves the trail as people try to get down without getting too close to the edge, which no longer has any sort of protective rock wall. Can't imagine doing this without grippers.

Passed by two runners in shorts, tees, and grippers. No clothes, no food, no water. Ok, but if anything goes wrong, WFR tells us to use what the other hiker has to fix him up, and they had nothing. I would have stepped into the knee-deep soft snow on the side of the packed trail, or caught the grippers on the water bars, or probably cut my leg with my own grippers had I tried to run.

My raven was not at Skeleton, possibly because a red tailed hawk was cruising.

Dragged our weary bodies out of bed and clumped over to the rim for a workout, and what should our wondering eyes behold but an inversion layer! Haven't seen one for at least twenty years. Debated if we should keep hiking or run out to the rim trail and get a better view, but we kept hiking, and 20 minutes later the clouds lifted, so that was a good choice.

No one on the trail. One dude in cotton jeans and no ice grippers asked if we were doing OK. better than you, I guess? Or was that a disguised cry for help?

They plowed the rim trail Saturday, so the skiing was pretty nice. A few inches of fresh snow over plowed. Skiing into the snow blocks ones glasses and makes it hard to see. Also, old show tunes make a good rhythm for skiing ("You've got to be taught, to be afraid, of people whose eyes are oddly made...").

Sunday hiked down to Three Mile. Lots of snow still. About two feet. First mile had been shoveled, then it was just what people and mules have worn down.

Thursday we didn't get enough snow to close school (even though every other school in Northern Arizona is closed) but we did get a two hour delay. We hiked down to the second tunnel on the Bright Angel. Started out in the dark with our headlamps. Only one set of tracks ahead of us on the trail.

At the first tunnel we heard a shout: "Turn off your lights!'. We stopped, understandably confused. "Turn off your lights! The mules are coming!". So we did.

The pack mules passed us. I guess our lights would destroy their night vision. Without headlamps I could see Okay, but not enough to trust myself on the trail with that drop-off on my right. I let the mules get ahead and turned my lights back on. I figured that was allowed, or else imagine the lawsuits? Xanterra TOLD me to hike down in the dark with no lights...

Very quiet, very alone (except for the mules) and our leds made the falling snow look like it was strobing.