Our night - near the Tuckup Trail - wasn't nearly as miserable as we imagined it would be. I don't know if Mike ever turned his engine to warm up his cab, but my earplugs and heated socks made for sound sleep on the North Rim of the Grand Canyon.
Photos of deep canyons are difficult to capture once the sun is blazing down from above. With one side of the canyon bathed in light, the other is deep in shadow, a contrast that's hard to balance with anything but the human eye. And so, as is often the case, I found myself up before sunrise to take advantage of the shadowless light that illuminates the landscape for a few minutes every morning and night.
Cracks in the Earth.
Narrow fingers, slowly receding.
Imminent shadows.
I climbed back into the tent a few minutes before the longest rays of the day streamed over the eastern horizon. Still warm, I burrowed under my two down comforters.
My tent, positioned perfectly to absorb those long, warm rays, of the sun.
I awoke nearly an hour later, to the sound of Mike's engine warming up his cab. It was the second beginning of a beautiful day. An hour later - after breakfast and the breaking down of camp - we were on our way.
Mike hiking down into Tuckup Canyon ahead of me.
Visiting the Shamans Gallery - also known as the Spirit Shelter - was our goal for the day. More than that, it was the impetus for this visit to the Arizona Strip. One of fewer than ten rock art sites that fall into a group known as the Grand Canyon Polychrome, Shamans Gallery - like the others - sits on what is known as the Esplanade Platform of the Grand Canyon. This Esplanade is a wide plateau composed primarily of Supai sandstone and located mid-way between the rim and river in the canyon. With an average elevation of 4,200 feet, springs are not abundant, but after heavy rains, water is easily found in natural sandstone pockets. This easily accessible water - along with plentiful bighorn sheep and natural sandstone shelters - must have attracted early inhabitants, some of whom developed their own style of art.
It was Mike who spotted this fossil in the limestone as we worked our way down.
This bunch cactus caught my eye, even though it wasn't yet flowering.
Early morning overlook.
Making our way down toward the Esplanade, echos of the more recent past - mining, homesteading, and ranching - dotted the landscape. We wondered at everything, content with no answer to any of it.
An old fence, no longer functional.
A small cave, and a few cans.
High ground.
A green blanket spread as far as the eye could see as we neared the Esplanade.
A lone rock.
Once, a shelter.
A fence, unstrung.
Our investigation of the more modern artifacts we'd discovered complete, we continued on our way. It was nearly 10:30am as we shed layers of clothing that had kept us warm in the shady descent, the sun now high in the sky, keeping us warm.
Our spirits were high as we neared our destination.
An innocent hiker?
Nope.
A beautiful beaver tail cactus, on full display below the plateau.
Just before noon, we reached the spot I'd marked as our destination. "Hope this is right," I mentioned to Mike.
The look on his face - now four miles and 1,500 feet deep in the Grand Canyon - was priceless. For some reason, he'd assumed that the quest for rock art was somehow different than the quest for fish on the end of a rod. That somehow, I knew - with certainty - where I was going and what we would find there.
Hoping his faith was well founded, I grinned and let out a chuckle. "Even if it's not here, we'll find it - we know it's on the Esplanade somewhere," I joked.
Shamans Gallery.
Behind the gallery, a temple-like view of the plateau.
It was Mike who spotted the pictographs from the wash, and less than a minute later, we entered the gallery.
When visiting rock art and ruin sites, be respectful.
This is most easily done by following the Leave No Trace principles; leaving the place exactly as you found it and taking with you only photographs and memories. In case that is not clear enough for some reason, here are examples of respectful behaviors:
Ghosts.
Circles and layers.
Sheep and shield.
Though closely related to the Barrier Canyon Style rock art of southeastern Utah, and possibly to the Pecos River Rock art of Texas, Grand Canyon Polychrome has its own unique combination of characteristics. These include anthropomorphs with life-like details such as eyelashes, toes and pupils; figures portrayed in a whimsical fashion, such as smiling figures; anthropomorphs whose arms are slender, outstretched, and often originate below the neck/shoulder level. Many figures have narrow shoulders. Arms, legs and feet, as well as torsos, are commonly decorated with stripes, dots, or rectangles. A repeated motif of this type is the "jailbird look." Another recurring attribute is a head with cat Ilke ears. Frequently anthropomorphic figures are depicted with arms and 'horns" but no necks; the bodies of these anthropomorphs are formed by large, decorated trapezoids or by elongated rectangles.
In addition to anthropomorphs, Grand Canyon Polychrome artwork displays spread-winged birds, bighorn sheep, deer, pelt-like objects, and abstract symbols. The quadrupeds, like the anthropomorphs, are frequently painted with outlined bodies. A small shrimp-like, crescent-shaped creature appears occasionally, positioned near one or more anthropomorphs.
Another similarity between Grand Canyon Polychrome and Barrier Canyon Styles is the absence of weapons. There are no depictions of atlatls or bow and arrows as are often seen in later rock art. This, and other factors, would point to an early date, probably Archaic, for these styles. However, it is possible this exclusion of weapons may be attributed to the art work's function. Perhaps the panel 's purpose was to illustrate a shaman's vision or a tribal myth, rather than perform hunting magic. This idea conforms with the larger-than-life supernatural aspect of many Grand Canyon Polychrome panels.
Unlike Barrier Canyon sites which typically have figures spaced out across a panel in a parade-like manner, the composition of Grand Canyon Polychrome work is more crowded. There seem to be instances of contemporary superimposition (i.e. Grand Canyon Polychrome on top of Grand Canyon Polychrome). However, these Grand Canyon sites were utilized over a long period of time; the crowded appearance and superimposition is partially due to additions of later pictographs on top of older Grand Canyon Polychrome figures. Sorting out older versus younger elements on these complex panels can be a difficult task.
The range of pigments in the Grand Canyon Polychrome panels includes at least nine distinct shades; dark brownish red, light terra cotta red, cream, white, black, lime green, forest green, yellow ochre and light yellow. Dark red and cream are the most commonly used colors.
Double green suns.
Didn't you know? Lime green panthers love to paint their toes.
I'm not sure how many times we worked our way back and forth through the gallery, but there's no question that we were thankful for the advent of digital photography. The elongated, life-size figures were fantastic, and so large that we had to be careful not to back off the ledge while trying to fit them in frame!
Life-sized spirits.
Eyelashes.
As I ate a quick lunch (Mike seemingly impervious to hunger, I never saw him eat all trip), Mike wandered out of the gallery in search of additional drawings. He didn't find any, but he did return with a fleck of red obsidian that surely originated around the same time.
Lunch view.
Obsidian flake.
As I photographed the flake, I could tell Mike was - understandably - getting a bit antsy. Having left home while fires raged, his neighborhood - while unburned - was experiencing regular power outages as the utility company worked to keep lines from sparking new fires, and predictably, every generator in the area had been sold almost immediately. He wanted to get back to civilization in time to pick up something that would prevent him from having to throw away a fridge full of food - for a third time - before returning home for an early morning meeting the following day.
And so, as I started my "really? again?" pass through the gallery, he decided to get a head start on the 4-mile, 1,500-foot climb back to the canyon rim.
Only minutes after Mike left, I discovered that his obsidian discovery was only 25% as good as what was already there for us to see. Typical underachiever.
Time to head back.
Working my way back the way we'd come, I was surprised how long it took me to catch Mike. He, too, was wondering if something was wrong - each of us thinking through our search plan for the other, had they followed an incorrect wash in a largely uniform landscape. Reality - as usual - was much less intriguing; I'd dillied at the gallery, and dallied off trail to investigate a that-looks-interesting rock formation, each minute of my wandering increasing the distance between us.
Wandering the Esplanade.
A metate and mano I found beneath the interesting rock formation that was once a shelter.
As I was turning on my afterburners - toward a spot where we'd deposited our jackets on the way down, and where I was hoping to find them retrieved on the way up - Mike was working his way to an overlook, scanning the trail for movement that would indicate my approach.
Spotting each other from a quarter mile away, quick waves communicated our relief, Mike continuing on in an attempt to claim victory as the first to gain the rim, and ultimately, camp.
Looking back, the Esplanade gleaming green, below.
I forget who made it back first - though I'd certainly claim victory if I was sure it was me - but it was only a little after 2:00pm, which gave Mike plenty of time to work his way to any number of places in Hurricane or St. George that could satisfy his need for uninterrupted electricity.
After packing up his flag and a few quick until-next-times, Mike almost ran me over as he departed.
With that, it was time to figure out my plan for the remainder of the trip. With two more nights and a day-and-a-half available for hiking, I knew where I was headed, but not when. My options - to leave now, or the following morning - would trade off camp on the edge of the Grand Canyon against the ability to get an early start the next morning.
In a somewhat unexpected twist, I opted to forego a night on the rim. It would turn out to be a good decision, but only after I made a miserable miscalculation in my exploration of Snake Gulch.
A final look at what I was leaving behind.
The Whole Story
Very nice, 2 episodes of great views. I've only been to the north rim once decades ago in late October on the way home from Utah. It was cold but not in the single digits but there were very few others on the road. I had a borrowed cab over camper on my pickup which made camping more comfortable. I was reminded how different the north rim is from the south rim. Thanks for sharing.