February 24-26, 2008

By Tim Briese

Havasu Falls are located in a southwestern branch of the Grand Canyon on the Havasupai Indian Reservation. There are a series of three scenic waterfalls in a two mile stretch of the canyon, Navajo Falls, Havasu Falls, and Mooney Falls, with perhaps the most beautiful and famous being Havasu Falls. The idyllic beauty and paradise-like setting of the falls attracts visitors from around the world. My wife Teresa, her sister Dianne, and I went on a trip to Las Vegas to visit their ailing sister and made a three day side trip to Arizona to hike in to see the falls.

We stayed at the Golden Nugget in Las Vegas on Saturday night before starting our expedition the next morning. When we checked out of the hotel at 5:30 a.m. there were still some patrons gambling and drinking on the casino floor, confirming, somewhat pathetically I thought, that indeed the action in Vegas never stops. We were on the road to Arizona by 6 a.m. in the early light of dawn. Heavy security and checkpoints slowed us briefly on Highway 93 over Hoover Dam, but we otherwise cruised smoothly through Kingman and headed northeast on Route 66 through Peach Springs. Shortly after that we turned off onto Indian Route 18, a paved, 60 mile long dead end road through some of the most remote country in the United States. We arrived at the Hualapai Hilltop trailhead parking lot about 11 a.m.(MST), completing the 220 mile trip from Las Vegas (PST) in about four hours.

There were some 30 or 40 vehicles in the spacious paved parking lot at the trailhead. Some of them belonged to tourists such as ourselves but many belonged to Indians who lived in the remote village of Supai in the canyon below. There was a corral nearby holding a number of horses, as well as a rundown trailer with a worn sign with check-in instructions. I stepped into the dark and crowded trailer to inquire about procedures and was greeted by half a dozen loud, boisterous Indians. I was immediately unimpressed by the primitive, uncivil nature of this place. Trash was lying about in the parking area and restroom facilities could best be described as crude.

Our plan was to hike the eight mile trail down to Supai, losing 2000 feet of elevation gain in the process, and stay at the lodge in the village that night before hiking further on down the canyon to see the falls the next morning. Supai is quite an interesting and unique place. It is a primitive village that is home to about 450 Indians, and can be accessed only on foot, horseback, or by helicopter. It is supplied by pack trains of horses that carry supplies down the trail daily. Revenue is derived almost solely from tourists who come to visit Havasu Canyon. Lodging is available only at the 24 unit lodge in the village or at campsites in the canyon near the falls. At the time we visited a $35 per person entrance fee to go into the canyon was charged, in addition to the lodge rate of $145 per night. When we made reservations two months before, the lodge was completely booked from March through June. Excellent information is available on the tribal website, www.havasupaitribe.com 

A cold wind blew viciously out of the southwest as we prepared for the hike. At 11:45 we left the level parking area and began hiking down switchbacks on the wide trail that dropped toward the canyon below. The wind immediately abated when we dropped below the upper protecting cliffs. The trail wound down through a break in a 300 foot high cliff band, the only break in these cliffs anywhere in sight. The trail quickly dropped about 900 feet in elevation in the first mile, carrying us down into a broad valley below. The route then turned to the northeast in the bottom of a gravelly drainage, past prickly pear cacti and low shrubs. We followed this drainage for several miles, in a canyon of increasing depth and beauty the further we went. On one of our breaks a young couple from Toronto who were backpacking into the canyon passed by, and we had a nice chat with them. The young man asked me what I thought about the safety of our vehicles in the parking lot above, for he had noted broken window glass lying about on the ground. I said that I hoped the importance of keeping tourists happy would offer a measure of protection for our cars, but I wondered if that were indeed true. Around every bend in the canyon we were greeted by scenic alcoves and fantastic formations in the surrounding rock walls. We met a couple of Indians hiking up out of the canyon, and were passed by a pack train of horses coming down.

After about six and a half miles we reached a junction where our canyon joined the main canyon that held Havasu Creek, and we turned to the left and followed the creek the remaining mile and a half to Supai. The water in this creek is a beautiful bluish green color from the high lime content in the water. It is said to flow steadily out of the rocks year round at a nearly constant temperature. Just before we entered Supai we met a tired looking backpacker and his young son who were attempting to hike all the way out to the trailhead that evening.

We strolled into Supai about 4:15, and gazed about incredulously at a place perhaps unlike any other in this country. Small, rundown houses and buildings were surrounded by crude fenced areas with horses. There were no streets, just narrow dirt lanes between fenced areas. Trash pickup was a low priority, if one at all, and dogs ran about everywhere. It was almost like visiting a third world country. We inquired about the way to the lodge from a local who was mending a fence, and he directed us toward a place on the far edge of the village. We walked past a small café and store on the way to the lodge, greeting a few natives we met along the way. I stepped past a pile of horse manure before entering the lobby of the lodge to secure our room. The lodge itself was surprisingly modern. The lobby receptionist was equipped with a telephone, computer, and credit card machine, and our room in the building behind the main lodge was as good as one in most any modern budget motel, but without television or phone. While the girls cleaned up I strolled back to the café to check out the fare and ordered three cheeseburgers and some nachos to go, since the place was about to close at 5 p.m. The menu was simple but fairly tasty, with burgers, burritos, breakfast plates, and drinks, at prices that were less exorbitant than I expected, considering that everything arrived on horseback after being trucked from civilization a hundred miles away. The sun set a little after 6 and darkness quickly enveloped the canyon. There wasn=t much to do in the room after dinner besides play cards for a while, so after tiring of that we went to bed early.

We rose the next morning and visited the café again to enjoy some pancakes and coffee. Schoolchildren were gathering at the adjacent school, and other villagers were walking about on the dirt lanes. Most folks seemed friendly enough, responding to our greetings, but generally kept to themselves. I noticed a team of horses ready to head up to the hilltop, one with a container that was labeled United States Postal Service. The local post office is the only one in the United States serviced by pack train. After preparing our packs we headed down the wide, sandy trail that led north out of the village toward the falls. It was nice to leave the squalor and trash behind and set foot into an undefiled part of the canyon once again.

The day was clear and beautiful, without a cloud in the sky. The temperature was perfect for hiking, with a morning temperature in the 40s, climbing to 65 or so later. After hiking about a mile and a half on the gently descending trail we came around a bend and saw Navajo Falls to our left back in the trees on the other side of a 50 foot deep gorge. It was difficult to get a good look at it since it was on the other side of a branch of Havasu Creek and was well obscured by trees. We saw no apparent trail to get up close to it so kept on walking down the canyon, concluding that it was a mere warmup for the more spectacular falls which lay ahead.

We soon came to a nice footbridge and crossed over to the left side of Havasu Creek. Just beyond the bridge we saw an old Indian cemetery in a large flat area above the trail to the left, and a sign prohibiting entry. About a half mile past Navajo Falls we began to hear the roar of another falls and proceeded to descend on the trail about a hundred feet on a sloping dirt ramp below a cliff on the left. At this point Havasu Falls burst into view to our right. It is an incredibly beautiful waterfall plunging about 100 feet into a large bluish-green pool of water below. We worked our way around to a trail that took us down to the edge of the pool, which was set in a large natural amphitheater in the canyon. At the lower edge of the pool were numerous cascades of water flowing into a series of smaller pools below. The high amount of lime in the water builds up on anything that it comes in contact with for extended periods, and over time builds up small dams which create the cascades and pools. A cloud of mist from the falls drifted off to the right side of the main pool, coating the rocks with water and supporting a hearty stand of cheerful ferns. I could not imagine a more beautiful and charming setting for a waterfall. No wonder people come from far and wide to see this place!

The trees in the canyon were just starting to produce their spring greenery. I have seen photos of this place when the trees are fully adorned in green, and it looks like a paradise in Hawaii or elsewhere in the tropics. It was hard to envision this place any prettier than it was today. We would have preferred to come later in the season when the foliage was present, but that was when everyone else was coming, too, and lodging was not available. We also didn=t relish the idea of hiking down here in the heat of summer. As it was, we had the place all to ourselves today, which afforded a perfect opportunity for peaceful contemplation while sitting beside the water listening to the soothing sound of the falls. The sparkling water looked most inviting for a swim, but we contented ourselves with merely soaking our feet, since the water temperature was a chilly 58 degrees today.

After a most pleasant hour at the falls we took our leave and headed further down the canyon. After passing through a natural garden of prickly pear cacti we reached the camping area in the canyon, which consisted of a half mile long stretch of pleasant sites in the trees beside Havasu Creek. If this were National Park property, regulations would undoubtedly prohibit camping so close to the creek, but the Indians don=t bother with such trivialities. A lone Indian was sitting on a picnic table beside the creek gazing into the water. A short time before this an Indian boy had ridden past on his bicycle with a dog following behind. They were almost the only other people we saw in the canyon today until we were on our way out later.

About a mile below Havasu Falls, after the end of the camping area, we began encountering well-worn signs with wording such as ANo jumping@ and ANo diving@ that warned of dangers ahead. Just beyond this the level canyon floor gave way to an abrupt 200 foot precipice that barred further easy passage down the canyon. We began to climb down on exposed ledges near the west side of the canyon, where we found overlooks with excellent views of spectacular 200 foot Mooney Falls spilling over a cliff. Teresa became spooked by the exposure and did not wish to proceed any further down. I had seen photos of the challenging route to the bottom of Mooney Falls and wanted to give it a try. I asked Dianne if she wanted to go down with me but she recalled the wise words of her husband Gene, who had cautioned her before she left home not to try anything stupid on this hike, so she elected to accompany Teresa back to Havasu Falls while I went to the bottom of Mooney. As it turned out it was a good thing they turned back. After parting company with them I climbed back down on the ledges to a sign that warned about the dangers of proceeding further. The route then went down through two 30 foot long tunnels carved into the rock on the cliff face. The second one opened up at the top of a cliff about 100 feet above a pool of water at the base of the falls. There were steel chains attached to rods fixed into the rock to assist in climbing down a crack to the bottom. I carefully proceeded down, examining the integrity of the rusty chains and rods as I went, having little trust in local inspection procedures. This climb is quite manageable for experienced climbers, but it is not a good place for novices to explore the range of their abilities, for a slip could prove fatal. The rocks on the lower part of the climb were wet and slippery from spray from the falls, too, which warranted further caution. Two ladders were set in place for the final sheer descent to the bottom.

I spent a few minutes gazing at the beautiful falls and the pool into which it tumbled. This, too, was quite a charming and idyllic place, but perhaps a bit less so than Havasu Falls. I left the falls and began exploring further down the canyon, finding a trail that was considerably more primitive than that above the falls, indicating that fewer hikers come this way. One can hike several miles further on down the canyon all the way to the Colorado River, but it appeared that this might involve a considerable undertaking. After going a quarter of a mile or so I decided to turn back and retraced my steps to Mooney Falls. Not far from the base of the falls I spotted a metal stretcher stashed in the bushes, apparently used for rescues of injured climbers or for the retrieval of bodies. I wondered if its presence here was the result of prudent planning or of laziness. At any rate, it struck me as an ominous indicator of the frequency of accidents here.

The climb back up to the top of the falls went quite smoothly, and I pressed on up the trail in the afternoon sunshine back to the girls waiting at Havasu Falls. They were sitting beside the pool with feet dangling in the water. I joined them and we lounged around for a considerable time once again, thoroughly enjoying the beauty of the peaceful surroundings. This special place exudes a sense of timelessness, where hurry and busyness fade to distant memories. After quite some time we decided to hike back to Navajo Falls to see if we could find a trail to approach closer to it. After exploring around the creek for a while and not finding the trail we sought, we decided to return to Havasu Falls for a third visit and spend some more time there. It was interesting to see the different aspect of the falls with changing lighting as the sun moved through the sky during the day. This was a very special place, and I appreciated the opportunity to absorb the experience of being there as much as I could today.

A little past midafternoon we finally decided to head back to the village. We met three hikers near Havasu Falls who were heading down the canyon, and later three backpackers from Indiana who were going in to camp for the night. Nearing the village we came upon a crew of workers who were remodeling a house, and paused to visit a while with the white foreman of the Indian crew, and learned many interesting pieces of information about this unique village from him. After dinner at the café we strolled around the village for a little bit and checked out the local grocery store, where we found offerings very limited and expensive. We bought a couple of gallon jugs of water to drink in lieu of the local water, which had a rather chalky taste due to the high mineral content. When we inquired why some jugs were priced at $1.50 instead of $3 like most of them, the clerk replied that some were discounted because water had leaked out of them while sloshing around on the horseback ride down into the canyon.

We rose early the next morning and left at first light to begin our hike out of the canyon, at about 6:45. The usual group of dogs were waiting outside of our lodge room, and two of them proceeded to accompany us out of the village. I tried to tell them to stay back, but they would not be dissuaded and came with us anyway, all the way to the top. We steadily hiked back up the scenic canyon, pausing occasionally to admire rock formations and the early sunlight glowing on the upper part of the walls. After we had hiked about three hours we emerged into the pleasant early morning sunlight in the upper, shallower part of the canyon. About this time we began to be overtaken by groups of pack horses trotting up from the village, on their way to the supply point up at the trailhead. A typical group had about eight or ten horses, usually not tied together, with a lone rider on a horse bringing up the rear, sometimes with a couple of dogs running alongside. We were passed by about six such groups of horses over the course of an hour.

Around 10:30 we emerged from the upper end of the canyon and began the stiff ascent up to the trailhead. We met two parties of hikers coming down, one being a bedraggled-looking middle aged couple, and the other consisting of two older couples with whom we pleasantly chatted for a little bit. We took several breaks while climbing up the grade toward the top, which gave us a chance to enjoy the surrounding scenery. The sight of the trains of horses climbing the switchbacks on the trail through the cliffs above reminded me of a scene from a western movie. When we neared the top the pack trains were starting to come back down. On the descent the horses were tied together, and were walking rather than trotting due to the loads they were now carrying. We climbed back up to the trailhead a few minutes before noon, completing the eight mile climb from Supai in just over five hours. It was sunny and pleasant here now, in sharp contrast to the cold, windy conditions we faced two days before. After packing up our gear we took off and headed back to Las Vegas.

Back to Home Page.