We got up and threw what little bit of gear we thought we’d need for the hike down to Supai Village. Since we had reservations for the night at the lodge, we wouldn’t need tents, sleeping pads, chair, etc. There’s also a restaurant in the village that’s open until 7p so we would just need snacks to get us through the round trip hike, water, and minimal clothes. At the last minute, I threw in an extra couple of meals, just in case. I don’t mind a little extra weight vs the possibility of missing a meal. We ate the continental breakfast the hotel provided (bran muffins, fruit, and coffee) then hit the highway. We still had at least a 45 minute drive to the parking lot on the reservation.
I can only describe the drive as depressing (unless you’re into scrub desert, wide open views that go on forever with no terrain, and no signs of life or water). There weren’t a lot of road signs to direct us to the parking lot but the Lodge had sent me directions when I made my reservation reservations. Worst case, we’d come to a Thelma and Louise launching point and stop a little before they did.
Eventually, we saw some cars pulled off to the side of the road and assumed we were at the lot. After parking, we saw some guys with horses and asked if this was the launching point for Supai Village. They confirmed it was but wouldn’t volunteer any other information after they found out we were planning to hike in and not ride horses. Other than the views, the glaring thing we noticed most about the lot was the tremendous amount of trash. We were all really indignant that tourists would just throw their trash out on the reservation especially when you consider the way we have treated Native Americans over the centuries.
Even though we could have fit everything in one pack, Chris insisted in carrying her own pack if I wouldn’t let her carry mine—she said it gave her a feeling of security while hiking plus she wanted her own water on her all the time. Pam had no problem with me carrying her stuff so she was fine hiking packless. Off the trail we went. After only 50 yards, we lost sight of civilization (parking lot) due to the fast drop down into the side canyon that eventually runs into the GC.
After a mile or so, we got to the bottom of the canyon and were walking down a narrow wash with side walls about 40-50’ tall at a minimum. This is definitely someplace you don’t want to be in a rain. There was all kinds of evidence of flash flooding all around us. In hind sight, the bran muffins may not have been such a great option on the front side of an 8 mile hike. We all took turns taking care of business during the trip down.
There was trash all along the trail. After the GCNP, we were just disgusted with people littering like this. We are absolutely “no trace” hikers. After we had been hiking for an hour, the horse train came storming on by. There were only 6 horses. Right as they were passing us, the Native American leading the horses was drinking a Pepsi and apparently was finished with it because he just tossed it on the trail. The Indian in back did the same with his candy bar wrapper. This made a little more sense, the residents were the ones littering and not the tourists. Chris decided she was going to do something about it.
About a mile from the village, the trail joined the Havasu Creek; a brilliant turquoise blue creek. It looked more like the water at a Disney amusement park ride than a natural creek. Now we saw a few people out walking because we were getting close to the village. I had pictured in my mind a small, quaint village of stone houses siting in the bottom of a canyon with cliffs all around. This is a case of gross misconceptions.
Supai Village is probably the most depressing place I have ever seen (and I’ve been to Asia to see poor people living in scrap houses on top of each other). The houses were stick framed with the definite look of government housing. The majority of houses were ‘70s era and hadn’t been maintained since they were built. Most houses did have fences, but the yards had no grass or foliage and contained mal nourished horses that would merit animal abuse fines where I live. A lot of houses didn’t have windows or doors and any garbage in the house made it no further than the pile right in front of the door.
The people that we saw were obese. Pam is an endocrinologist and was well aware of the statistic that over 90% of residents on Indian reservations are obese and diabetic rates are some of the highest in the world. It was obvious that these people were not healthy and had no hope for the future.
We checked into the lodge after trying for about 30 minutes to find someone to assist us. What should have been an ideal setting and tourist draw was a run down, over-priced hotel that might have been nice some years ago. We dropped our packs in the room and headed to the falls to see them before dark. It’s only about 1.5 miles to the first falls.
The falls were stunning. There are a total of four separate water falls (Little Navajo, Havasu, Mooney, and Beaver) ranging over a mile of river. Chris was tired and ended up sitting down at the first falls while Pam and I went on down to the other falls. It seemed like each fall was more splendid than the last. We walked into the falls which were surprisingly comfortable considering it is February. We met a few other people in the area of the campground including some guys that came all the way from Australia. We didn’t make it to all four falls because we didn’t want to leave Chris alone for too long and we wanted to get back to the village to eat before the restaurant closed at 7.
We walked back up the road which was in serious danger of washing completely away with a significant rain. We were brainstorming what we could do to help save the falls for future generations and to help make this a better money maker for the reservation. When we got back into town, 3 rather large (weight –wise) yutes started following us through town to go to the restaurant. By the time we got there, it was 6:30. We walked into look at the menu and saw that everything was fried food and no vegetables. Just as we started to order, the cashier told us they were closed even though the place had about 30 people in it. We said ok and turned to leave. As we walked out, the 3 kids who were following us walked in and ordered. It’s pretty obvious that the Natives are not interested in our patronage. This was the final straw for me. Good thing I’d brought the stove and extra meals. We cooked and ate in our room then went to bed.