Donkeys In The Grand Canyon
I have a wall hanging with this statement on it that was gifted to me by an old friend that completely understood how much I like to make my “moments” count. I must say that a ride through the Grand Canyon, Rim to Rim, with five incredibly, amazing donkeys and three wonderful, donkey-loving friends, never stopped taking my breath away.
In April we were able to secure our permit for a September 29th departure from the top of the North Rim. With much anticipation and excitement, Casie Fairbanks on Bruce, Jody Lowrey on Pud’N, Becky Santucci on Platero and myself on Ortega with Loki in hand, packing feed, started the fourteen mile journey down at seven in the morning. We had until five o’clock to make our dinner reservation at the Phantom Ranch.
We had spent all spring and summer conditioning the donkeys for this trip and I felt very confident they would breeze through the distance, and we could leisurely enjoy the scenery and not push them.
The top six miles of the north side is pretty much a trail dynamited into the wall of the canyon, never narrower than four foot, very steep, very rocky, with six-hundred-foot shear drop-offs, indescribable beauty, very, very daunting, literally at every turn.
The donkeys were stellar, picking their way through the rock and handling the steepness with steadiness true of the donkey. I could tell any previous apprehension of riding on a 4-foot ledge was easing as we went along by the constant chatter and oohs and aahs going on behind me. We were all awestruck by the sights.
The lower eight miles of the North Kaibab is a very gradual descent, almost flat in some areas. Easy traveling for the donkeys. There were six or seven bridges to cross in this section as the trail winds through the canyon alongside Cottonwood Creek leading us to the Phantom Ranch. This was a very peaceful part of the ride with plenty of its own beauty.
We arrived midafternoon and quickly located the “private stock” camp area that we were permitted to use. No corral, but a long hitching rail to accommodate the donks. They were happy to have the gear pulled off and get to graze a bit of grass before a dinner of pellets.
I must mention here that there were two other human members of this party whose role was crucial to the trip. Chris Lowrey, Jody’s son, and my dear friend Jess Bishop, moved our rigs from the North Rim around to the South Rim so they would be waiting for us when we came back out with five tired donkeys. It’s a 250-mile drive around the east end of the canyon to get to the South Rim to the Bright Angel trail head.
Chris, quite the accomplished distance runner, was determined to get the rigs moved and hike down to us and maybe make it for dinner. Amazing athlete that he is he made it to camp by 4 o’clock!
The donkeys were settled, eating, and drinking well. No equipment galls and no wear from the relentless rock they had traveled through all day.
We all shared a great steak dinner, replaying the day and so proud of our donkeys for getting us here. The day had been perfect, I said a prayer for all our safety riding out of here the next day. We were ready for a good night sleep.
There is one glitch here if you’re a light sleeper. Nobody tells the squirrels to go to bed! And they are as relentless as the rock in this canyon! They tap dance on the metal boxes that are bolted to the picnic tables to keep your stuff protected, tirelessly! All night long! One squirrel woke the whole camp when it tried to climb over Jody’s head to get to a table. I don’t know who screamed louder, Jody or the squirrel!
We were up and repacking early. The donkeys ate and drank well. Chris had reserved us a breakfast from the canteen, so we all ate well. We were saddled and ready to hit the rail again at 7 o’clock.
While the others were in anticipation of the infamous Black Bridge we were soon to cross, I was worrying about pacing the donkeys correctly. We had to make it into Indian Gardens before the concession of guest riders would be leaving there on their way down. There are very few places to pass on the trail and the concession always has the right of way. We absolutely didn’t want the donkeys to have to climb the same trail twice! Ten miles of climbing was going to be enough.
The donkeys negotiated the Black Bridge and the tunnel without hesitation and all of us shared a unanimous “I will never forget this!” moment. The impact of riding through such an incredible feat of nature, realizing and respecting the history of human and animal toil it took to make this beautiful place accessible to us and the complete adoration for the donkeys that got us safely here to see it, all came together on the bridge. We knew we were making a little history of our own with our saddle donkeys.
About ¼ mile from the bridge, I got the one “extra bonus” I had prayed for. Walking down the trail toward us was a stunning big horn ram! Confident, bold and thinking we were interfering with his path of travel! It got a little tense when even stepping Ortega into him didn’t deter him and he got close enough that I could see all the scars on his face! After a stalemate that allowed us time to get pictures, he yielded the trail to us, leaving us all with another priceless memory.
The donkeys cruised up the “corkscrews” strong and in the Gardens we found the group of visiting riders taking their midway rest. Perfect timing. The donkeys rested for an hour and snacked on some more pellets. All we had left now was five hard miles up the wall of the canyon. There is nowhere in my country that I can climb steady for 10 miles so this last five was going to show us how conditioned these donks really were!
The switchbacks seemed to go on forever, but the donkeys never faltered. They were tired and they were definitely happy to stop and accommodate all the tourist that wanted to pet them, but they chugged right along, and we were out of the canyon a little before 2 o’clock.
Jess was a welcomed sight and quickly led us to the “Bright Angel” sign as she knew we would want a picture. The feelings of satisfaction were over-whelming. I don’t think any of us had dry eyes knowing what our donkeys had just accomplished for us! I hugged Ortega’s big head and thanked him for the ride of a lifetime!
Written by JoDe Collins who owns and trains mules and donkeys in Lincoln, CA.