So I’ve set up the new household wireless network, encrypted to defeat all the thousands of Pinole wardrivers, and am enjoying Teen Girl Squad wirelessly from the comfort of the bedroom, listening to BB King being streamed up a firewire cable to the G5 and through the air to the base station and through the air again to the laptop without any skipping or hesitation, and replaying fond memories of the Moroccan lamb fettucine I ate for dinner, when I decide to check my email. Ah, life in the 21st century.
In my email is a note from a friend in Arizona. She and her husband are hiking across the Grand Canyon, North Rim to South Rim, over five days in May. This is a trip that requires hiking permits obtained well in advance and like that. They have a permit for four hikers, but the couple they planned to hike with dropped out. They have one friend who’s leapt into the breach, and need one more.
Becky can’t go, though she needs a trip like that more than anyone I know. Damn shame. I’ll miss her.
Watch out for the Grand Canyon — when you fall in a bottomless pit, you die of starvation.
Bring Lunchables.
Yeah. Don’t go pulling an Ed Abbey on us, please.
Which part of the North Rim?
We’ll be hiking from the developed part of the North Rim down the North Kaibab Trail. Then up Bright Angel Trail to the South Rim at Grand Canyon Village. Two days to get down to the river, one day layover at the river, and two days out.
I absolutely insist on pulling an Ed Abbey, seeing as he went out into the desert when he knew he was going to die. But what I will gladly avoid is pulling an Everett Ruess: Ruess disappeared into the desert and — based on what I know of him — it was probably out of stupidity.
There I go callng dead people stupid again.