Water. It shapes our world, sustains our lives and is capable of inspiring both wonder and terror. In my last post I described the delightful experience of discovering Upper Calf Creek Falls in the Utah desert.
Grand Canyon’s Havasu Falls is delightful, yes, but it also elicits these emotions: Disbelief, awe, reverence. After a ten mile hike in blistering June heat I rounded the corner on a rocky downhill path and, with a deafening roar, Havasu Falls burst into view.
I looked down to my aching feet; real. Glanced to the left and right at my hiking companions; real. I had to conclude that the plunging double columns of whitewater before me also were real. I stood—wide eyed—afraid to even blink should this sensational vision of paradise disappear like a desert mirage. How silly. This canyon and these falls have been here since time began; something so lovely and enduring couldn’t change in an instant. Could it?
Yes it can. And it did, when a flash flood raged through the canyon several years after my visit, altering the course of the creek and the falls. Instead of adoration and amazement hikers and campers in Havasu Canyon during the event expressed alarm, fear and dread.
Thankfully no one perished in the 2008 flood but, for those of us who spend time in the natural world, this event reminds us of things beyond our control—of the wonder and terror of water.
My first view of Havasu Falls. Breathtaking. |
Havasu Falls view from the beach near the campground entrance. |
My site in the campground along Havasu Creek. |
Thankfully no one perished in the 2008 flood but, for those of us who spend time in the natural world, this event reminds us of things beyond our control—of the wonder and terror of water.
New Havasu Falls. The flood collapsed a rock ledge at the top of the falls, channeling the water into a single column. (Photo from Wikipedia.) |
Old Navajo Falls. On our hike to the hilltop, the group stopped to cool off at Navajo Falls—a short side trip from the main trail. (That's me, enjoying the blissfully frigid water.) |
New Navajo "Falls". As you can see, they no longer exist. The flood rearranged this part of the canyon, diverting water from Navajo Falls and creating two new falls downstream. (Wikipedia photo.) |
I’ve traveled to many places in this country and others. And I’ve seen my share of “picturesque and scenic” vistas. Havasu Canyon and Falls is in a class by itself—literally breathtakingly beautiful.
I highly recommend a visit to Havasu Falls but, be prepared. This is not a walk in the park but a grueling 10 mile hike through the desert, especially during the summer months. The area is heavily visited but access and visitation are controlled by the Havasupai Indian Tribe. The Havasupai—people of the blue-green water—have lived here for 800 years so please be respectful of the people and their customs. Find out more by visiting this website: http://www.americansouthwest.net/arizona/grand_canyon/havasu_canyon.html
Ready for the hike out of the canyon. One thing I learned on this long desert hike? This is not the time to break in new boots! |
Starting the hike back to the hilltop in the early evening. You can see the reflective patch on my backpack (lower right). We hiked out in the evening shade to avoid the 116 degree heat of the day. |
Mooney Falls, downstream from Havasu Falls and the campground. These falls appear much as they did before the flood. However, the travertine pools at the base of the falls are gone. |