Part Two: Grand Canyon's Breathtaking Northern Rim by Gerry Barnes I had already decided to visit the North Rim instead of the South. The two Rims are only 200 miles apart but in different worlds, really, for one is clearly desert while the other more closely resembles the high Alps. They are populated by two utterly distinct species of tourists. Because over 90% of Grand Canyon visitors choose the South, it is this side that has the most motels, restaurants, souvenir shops, etc. It attracts retirees in Hawaiian print shirts from Miami Beach, large blonde-haired families from Munich and everyone from Japan who owns a camera. The North Rim North Rimmers (whom Southies refer to as "tree huggers"), make up only about 6% of the visiting population. These folks prefer the higher, cooler elevations, the towering pines and white quaking aspens, the overnight showers - and the blessed solitude. A two-day campsite reservation here cost $36.00 for the five of us. A three-minute walk afforded us a breathtaking view of the Canyon, access to showers/restroom/laundry facilities, and a lodge store that was stocked with everything we could possibly want. North Rimmers are fiercely protective of their peace and quiet and none-too-approving of the crass commercialism that has overtaken the South Rim. Twice during our two-day stay here, I was beseeched not to sing the area's praises too loudly for fear that it would be "discovered" and "ruined" the way its southern counterpart was. Because it is less crowded, North Rim reservations are somewhat easier to come by. Campsite check-in time is 11:00 AM and since we arrived early, we decided to grab a quick breakfast in the restaurant of the North Rim Lodge. I can't recall what we ate but after eating and rubbing the nose of Brighty (the brass donkey statue that sits in the lobby) for good luck, we strolled onto the observation deck of the lodge for a view of the Canyon that can only be called awe-inspiring. Barely an hour after our arrival, we were already captives of the Canyon's astonishing beauty. Our first day was spent resting up from the long drive and taking short hikes around the Canyon's perimeter. Both the Bright Angel Point trail and the Cape Royal trail are about a 1-mile (round trip) hike and well worth the slight effort required to traverse them. In early evening, we attended a lecture given in the campground amphitheatre by a friendly ranger who directed his talk on resident flora to the two dozen or so children in attendance, getting them all into the spirit of the occasion by assigning them roles as various forms of fungi and lichen. The kids were delighted and this proved to be the highlight of the day for young Miles, who knew the genus and species of everything that grew within 50 miles of the Canyon and peppered the astonished man with a hundred questions. In preparation for Tuesday's Big Event, we all retired early. The Classic Grand Canyon Mule Ride Next morning, we were up by 6:00 AM, ready and raring to go. This was it. The Big Mishegoss. The high point of our Grand Canyon sojourn. An all-day mule ride 4300 feet down the North Kaibab trail to Roaring Springs where we would eat a picnic lunch, soak our feet in the waters, then return back to the top. Since the two Miles had already taken the mule ride and were heading back to LA that same morning, we would be a party of only three. The cost of this adventure was $125.00 per rider and the company that provided our mules and our guide (Canyon Trail Rides: 435-679-8665) had warned us early on that riders must be over 12 years old, must not exceed 200 pounds, and must be able to withstand the physical rigors of the trek. No one with back or knee problems. No one with heart or respiratory issues. No pregnant women. No one who isn't fluent in English (in an emergency, there is rarely time for translation.) Above all, no one with a fear of heights. I qualified on every point but one… Guess which one. Even now, it is difficult to describe the sense of horror that sits on your shoulder when you are traversing a dusty trail that is only half as wide as the average sidewalk, is cut out of the side of a canyon wall that sometimes crumbles under the enormous weight of your steed, and banks a sheer drop of several thousand feet. One particular half-hour stretch of trail called Needle Eye is utterly petrifying - particularly when you have a mule that clings to the outer edge of the trail and insists on leaning over the precipice to eat the vegetation growing on the canyon's sides. I had no doubts that I would slide right off Flex's back and take the "30 second screaming tour" to the bottom of the canyon. Only it didn't happen (actually, it never has) and this was due entirely to the combined skills of my animal and my guide (Tom) who led me through the experience like the old pros they are. Believe me, there is no amusement park ride in the world as scary as the Grand Canyon mule ride - and I wouldn't have missed it for the world! When we arrived back at the Lodge, it was close to dinnertime. We were aching in muscles that we didn't know existed but Mark and I celebrated our bravery with a few stiff drinks (Nathan had a Coke and a pepperoni pizza), then headed back to camp for spaghetti and another show at the amphitheatre ("The Spirit of the Grand Canyon"). Again, we turned in early. The next morning, we were heading out.