Hiking Havasupai
January 2023 – The Dream Begins
For nearly a decade, I’ve had a dream — to visit Havasupai Village. However, getting there isn’t as simple as buying a plane ticket. Oh no. First, you have to get permits. The lottery system for permits (which feels like the universe is just playing with your emotions) is no easy task. Imagine this: one magical day each year, the tribe releases permits for the entire year online. If you’re one of the lucky few to snag a 4-day, 3-night pass AND you have $400+ per person to spare... bam, you're in. But you better be quick, permits sell out in hours each year. On top of an already almost impossible thing to accomplish, factor in a pandemic... Makes your slim chance of snagging permits, basically nonexistent.
When COVID hit, it felt like a sucker punch to this dream. The tribe closed the village to outsiders to keep everyone safe—and who could blame them? They’d been hit with devastating monsoons on top of the pandemic. Every year, it seemed like my hopes for a trip to the falls got pushed further and further down the road. Or maybe not ever happen at all.
After closing the village for 3 years to visitors, Supai made an announcement that they were opening back up to the public. My fading dream was once again a possibility! Now there are two ways to get a permit: one is by sheer luck on that fateful day when permits drop, the other is by stalking the transfer list like a hawk. (Trust me, you have to be on it if you want a chance!) But between health issues, work schedule conflicts when it came to permit dates,and somehow missing every chance to snag permits on the transfer list by seconds, I started to think this dream might stay just that—a dream.
Then, out of nowhere—the notification popped up on my phone, jolting me from my thoughts. I couldn't believe my eyes as I read the message; I had my permits. TWO of them! The excitement surged through me like a wave, filling me with a sense of exhilaration and anticipation. I had been waiting for this moment, and now it was finally here. The permits were not just pieces of paper; they symbolized the beginning of an adventure that I had been dreaming about for years.
As the reality of the situation sank in, I felt a rush of ideas and possibilities flood my mind. In that instant, I knew exactly who my partner for this adventure would be. My mom. She is the ultimate travel companion, someone who shares my passion for exploration and discovery. Her enthusiasm for travel is infectious; it ignites a spark of excitement in me every time we plan a trip together. I can already picture her reaction when I share the news.
Together, we have traversed countless destinations, from bustling cities to serene landscapes, always seeking out the hidden gems that often go unnoticed by the average traveler. Each journey has brought us closer, creating memories that we cherish and recount with laughter and nostalgia. This time, with the permits secured, I can’t wait to dive into the details of our upcoming adventure. I can already hear her voice, filled with excitement, as she suggests packing our bags and preparing for yet another unforgettable experience.
The thrill of planning, the anticipation of the unknown, and the joy of sharing it all with her make this adventure even more special. I can hardly wait to see where this journey will take us and what stories we will bring back home. It was official. February 2023, we were heading to the Grand Canyon!
February 2023 – The Adventure
The Phoenix airport greeted us with a blast of cold air that instantly made my cheeks flush, a stark contrast to the warm desert sun we had anticipated. With our bags packed with everything but the kitchen sink (because backpacking gear takes up a lot of space), we felt the familiar thrill of adventure bubbling inside us. Each bag was filled to the brim with essentials: sleeping bags that could withstand chilly nights, a compact stove for cooking meals under the stars, and an assortment of snacks to fuel our hikes. After retrieving our luggage, we quickly made our way to the rental car area, where we eagerly grabbed our rugged Jeep Wrangler, a vehicle perfectly suited for the rugged terrain we were about to explore.
Before hitting the road to our accomodations for the evening, we decided to make a pit stop for supplies, knowing that preparation is key to a successful trip. We headed to a nearby Walmart, where we stocked up on matches and fire starters—crucial items for keeping warm and cooking in the wilderness. As we moved through the aisles, we also grabbed a handful of fresh apples, their crispness a refreshing contrast to the heavier snacks we had packed. Next, we found a container of coffee creamer, an essential luxury for our morning brews; nothing quite beats sipping a hot cup of coffee while watching the sunrise in the backcountry. Oh, and let’s not forget the couple of beers we picked up for that post-hike refreshing beverage, a well-deserved treat after long days of trekking through the stunning landscapes. We carefully placed these items into our Jeep, ensuring everything was secure for the journey ahead. With our perishable supplies gathered and excitement bubbling over, we felt ready to embrace the adventures that awaited us in the wild.
By the time we arrived at the KOA cabin in Seligman, it was getting dark, and we were wiped from the cross-country flight. Our cozy little cabin had everything we needed—a full-size bed, bunk beds, a swing on the porch, and an extra luxury: walking to the bathhouse to use the restroom (which, after days on the trail, felt like a spa experience). Dinner was simple—Jetboil meals—and we were in bed before we could even think about the adventure that lay ahead.
The next morning came way too early, but we were ready. Oatmeal and coffee, and then we were off to check in at the Grand Canyon Inn, which was just 20 minutes away. Permit in hand, we couldn’t resist grabbing some old-fashioned root beer from the inn’s little shop (because when in the Grand Canyon area, right?).
The rest of the day unfolded like a nostalgic journey along the iconic Route 66, a ribbon of Americana that weaves through the heart of the country, rich with history and character. We made several stops at quirky historical spots that seemed to spring straight from a vintage postcard, each one telling its own unique story. At each location, we took a ton of photos, capturing the essence of our adventure and the whimsical nature of the sights around us. The vibrant colors of the roadside attractions contrasted beautifully with the deepening hues of the sunset, and we marveled at how the sun seemed to sink faster here than anywhere else we had ever experienced, casting long shadows and bathing everything in a warm, golden glow.
As evening approached, we found ourselves bundled up in a cozy pizza joint, the aroma of freshly baked pies wafting through the air, mingling with the laughter and chatter of fellow local patrons. Through the window, we watched as the first delicate snowflakes began to fall, swirling gently in the air like tiny dancers. We exchanged glances, unsure if this snow would snow us in or out the next day, creating an air of uncertainty about our planned hike. The thought of being unable to reach the trailhead loomed over us like a dark cloud; if we couldn’t make it to the trailhead, we would lose a day of precious permits that we had worked so hard to secure. Talk about stress! Yet, in true adventurer style, we chose to embrace the uncertainty and simply hoped for the best, believing that the universe would conspire in our favor.
That night, as the snow continued to fall outside, we spent hours meticulously repacking our gear, ensuring that everything was in its place and ready for the early morning departure. We checked and rechecked our supplies, from water purification systems to high-energy snacks, making sure we were well-prepared for the journey ahead. Setting alarms for the ungodly hour of 4 a.m. felt both thrilling and daunting, but the excitement of the impending hike to Havasupai was palpable. It was finally within reach, and despite the challenges that lay ahead, we felt a rush of anticipation and determination. The adventure was just beginning, and we were ready to embrace whatever came our way.
Day 1: The Hike In – The Descent Into Magic
4 a.m. arrived in a flash. I had hardly slept due to my excitement. We gathered our things, loaded our equipment, and set off in our Jeep, the tires crunching through the snow on our way to the trailhead. My heart was pounding as we approached the canyon. The Grand Canyon—right before our eyes. As the sun rose over the canyon walls, it resembled a real-life postcard.
Following a brief check-in at the midway point of our drive, we reached the trailhead and set off hiking. The trail exceeded all my expectations. The switchbacks were challenging, yet each turn revealed increasingly stunning views. The first mile passed quickly as we were still energized, but I anticipated the return climb would be quite the challenge. With every step, the sun shimmered on the canyon walls, as if inviting us into another world. And indeed, it was.
We met other hikers along the way, some with dogs (yes, dogs roam free here!), and got plenty of encouragement— and a “You’re almost there!” as we crossed paths with hikers who’d just finished, looking exhausted but giddy with the excitement of spending 4 days at the falls.
After nearly 4 hours, we finally hit the village by noon—smooth sailing! The village was small and peaceful, with a school, a market, and one cafe (yes, one). My mom and I made a beeline for some curly fries and caught up with some friends back home over social media. As we sat there, I could hardly contain my excitement—we were only 2 miles from the luggage drop where the mules dropped your luggage if you paid an additional fee (a seperate permit) and chose to have them hike in your bags for you. We didn't do this but I was still anxious to see the "luggage drop" tree. Especially since around the corner from this landmark tree would be the campground!
The last two miles were like a dream come true, a culmination of anticipation and adventure that had been building for days. As we made our way along the winding trail, we were treated to breathtaking views that seemed to unfold like a storybook. We passed by Fifty Foot Falls, where the water cascaded down in a shimmering curtain, each droplet catching the sunlight and creating a dazzling display of rainbows in the mist. The sound of the rushing water was both soothing and invigorating, echoing in the stillness of the surrounding wilderness.
Next came Little Navajo Falls, a smaller yet equally captivating waterfall. Its gentle flow created a peaceful atmosphere, inviting us to pause and take in the moment. Both falls shimmered in the sunlight, their beauty amplified by the vivid hues of the surrounding foliage—surprising, given it was February and not the peak of summer. But the anticipation of what lay ahead kept my focus sharp. I was nearing the highlight of our journey, the pinnacle we’d dreamed of and planned for. A rush of excitement stirred within me, an energy so palpable it made my heart race as we approached the final stretch. Time seemed to slow, each step bringing us closer to the moment I had pictured in my mind over and over.
When we crossed the small bridge arching over the sparkling stream, I could hardly contain my enthusiasm. The wood creaked softly beneath us, adding to the sense of adventure that hung in the air. As we made our way to the other side, the sight of the luggage drop sign appeared, a simple marker that told us the end was near. It was a quiet triumph, a reminder of the miles traveled and the obstacles overcome to reach this point. Once again, the excitement surged, a jolt of adrenaline that heightened my senses, making every detail around me feel more vivid. The crisp air carried the fresh scent of pine and wildflowers, while the distant calls of birds seemed to echo the joy of the moment.
And then, finally, it was there. The breathtaking vista I had been waiting for, a sight that would remain etched in my memory forever. The landscape unfolded before me like a masterpiece—towering cliffs in the distance, lush green valleys below, and the kind of beauty that could only be crafted by nature itself. It was overwhelming, a reminder of the world’s incredible artistry, and in that instant, all the effort and anticipation melted away, leaving only pure awe and joy. I stood there, soaking it all in, knowing that this wasn’t just a destination—it was a moment I would treasure for the rest of my life. Havasu Falls.
I gasped. This is it. The crystal-blue waters rushing down in a beautiful cascade. It was more stunning than any photo could ever capture. I made it. The weight of that realization hit me like a ton of bricks, and all I could say was, “Wow!” It was pure magic.
We took a few photos, then headed to the campground, which was way quieter than I expected. We got a perfect spot right next to the river, pitched our tent, and set up our ultra-light chairs (worth every ounce of weight, as my mom always says). It was so serene that it almost felt like we had the whole place to ourselves.
Once we established our campsite in the campground, we hiked back towards the village and returned to Havasu Falls for dinner. It was unbelievable—having a meal with a waterfall as the scenery. We heated water for our freeze-dried food, and as the mist from the falls touched my face, I could hear the gentle laughter of people swimming behind the falls. (How are they not freezing?) Truthfully, I was just content to be dry and taking in the experience.
As the sun set behind the canyon walls, we headed back to camp. The day had been so full, and as night fell, we nestled into our sleeping bags. The quiet of the canyon was so peaceful, but I couldn’t shake the excitement. Tomorrow would bring new adventures.
Around midnight, nature called, waking me up. My mom and I put on our headlamps, bundled up in down pants, and stepped out into the crisp night air towards the outhouse. The stars above were truly magical. Without city lights, the Milky Way seemed within reach. The view was breathtaking. I couldn’t help but smile, feeling we were exactly where we were meant to be—at the heart of Havasupai. As I nestled back into my sleeping bag, I fell asleep with a big grin, knowing this adventure was just beginning.
Havasupai Day 2: Beaver Falls and Some Surprises
We woke up early, and the sun was already up and bright—way earlier than I expected! I’d assumed the mornings would be slow after how quickly it got dark the night before, but nope, the sun had other plans. We made breakfast, filled up our water bottles at the spigot, and got dressed for the day. Today’s mission: Beaver Falls.
I’d done some last-minute research and realized that the Confluence (my original goal) was probably too far for us to make it today. No stress though—I didn’t want to rush through this trip, and there’s always tomorrow if I was feeling adventurous. I knew Beaver Falls was on the way to the Confluence, but the Confluence itself was still quite a trek away. So, we’d just see how far we could go and make a call when we got there. For now, Beaver Falls was the goal.
Before we left camp, I hesitated for a second. I grabbed my Chacos and tossed them in my bag last minute. I figured we’d probably cross some water, and it wouldn’t hurt to have them in case I didn’t feel like walking barefoot through the chilly streams. We said goodbye to our new neighbors (who had shown up after we’d gone to bed the night before) and headed further into the campground.
This campground wasn’t your typical setup—it’s like this two-mile stretch of random open space with picnic tables scattered around, so you just pick a spot and set up. I had read that this place gets packed in the summer, but since it was February, there were only a few other hikers. I guess not many people wanted to brave the cold, and I wasn’t complaining. We pretty much had the place to ourselves, which made the whole experience even more magical.
At the end of the campground, the sound of Mooney Falls got louder, and we knew we were getting close. There was a huge warning sign about how dangerous it was past this point, along with a reminder to make sure you have enough water since there’s no source ahead. We pressed on.
The descent down to Mooney Falls was exactly like I’d seen in all the YouTube videos—steep, tight, and really slippery. The mist from the falls kept everything wet and slick, and I was super grateful for the gardening gloves other hikers had left behind. I’m only 5’4”, and some of those steps were a real challenge. A few of the ladder rungs were missing, and the carved footholds were way too high for my short legs. I tried not to think about how I’d get back up later (future me’s problem). Eventually, I made it to the base, and we were officially deep in the canyon—Mooney Falls crashing beside us, leading us toward Beaver Falls and, eventually, the Confluence.
We hiked at a chill pace, stopping for snacks and chatting with other hikers who were just as stoked to be there. We crossed a ton of rivers, some small, some big, and I was glad to have my trekking poles to keep me steady. We switched back and forth between hiking boots and water shoes every time we hit a water crossing. The water was freezing but not unbearable. It was kind of like a hiking puzzle, and I’m all about puzzles.
A little after 1pm, we finally made it to Beaver Falls. I looked over the edge and saw the multi-tiered waterfalls gently flowing down the canyon. It was breathtaking. A guy from the village was there with a fire in a makeshift fireplace (like the kind you'd have at home). He said it was for us to warm up, and we gratefully took him up on it. We were both sweaty and cold by then, so standing by the fire felt amazing.
I can’t remember his name, but he was super kind and shared stories of his family and life in the village. It was such a privilege to experience this place and to hear firsthand what it was like to live in such a magical land. We promised to treat the land with respect, as if it were our own.
The local offered to watch our packs while we scrambled over some rocks past Beaver Falls, and I thought, why not? It was my chance to see a little piece of the Confluence, even though I knew we wouldn’t make it all the way today. As I made my way along the trail, I saw something shiny in the distance—it looked like a sign. Curiosity got the better of me, so I went to check it out.
Turns out it was a sign that read: Entering Havasupai Tribal Land. Leaving Grand Canyon National Park. I was so pumped! I’d made it to the edge of the Grand Canyon, even if I couldn’t go further. I turned around to head back, but I couldn’t stop smiling. It felt pretty surreal.
After taking a few more photos, I met back up with my mom, and we started the journey back to camp. The trek back was a little bittersweet. We had to climb back up to Mooney Falls, which was a challenge in itself. But we eventually made it back to camp, dropped our packs, and decided, “Why not? Let’s do a few more miles!” We headed toward Havasu Falls to treat ourselves to the Indian Fry Bread at the top.
We each got an Indian taco (mine with just meat and cheese, Mom went all out with the works) and shared a third one—half powdered sugar, half cinnamon—for dessert. I swear, it was the best fry bread I’ve ever had in my life. I’ve tried it in other places, but nothing compares.
That fry bread definitely hit the spot, but the walk back was a bit rough. My body was feeling it by the time we got back to camp.
We decided to spend the evening relaxing by the fire next to the bright turquoise water. Fires aren’t typically allowed at Havasupai, but with the cold temperatures and the recent monsoon cleanup, they were letting us have one for a few days. The sky wasn’t as clear as the first night, and clouds rolled in with a light drizzle. I expected it since snow was predicted for the higher elevations. We huddled up in our sleeping bags for our last night in Supai, knowing tomorrow would be the end of this adventure.
Havasupai Day 3: The Hike Out
We woke up to a damp tent and chilly air. The sun was shining, though, so we didn’t feel rushed to start packing up. We let the tent dry in the sunshine while sipping coffee and having a light breakfast. After saying goodbye to our neighbors, we stuffed everything back into our 60-liter packs. Somehow, it felt like we were packing more out than we brought in—though really, all we had were photos and memories to take with us.
By 9 a.m., we were ready to go. We made our way toward the village, stopping at the water spigot, the outhouse, and, of course, Havasu Falls. We couldn’t resist a quick detour to the Indian Fry Bread stand again before heading out but they were closed. As we walked, we saw piles of bags for the mules at the famous tree and passed by Little Navajo Falls and Fifty Foot Falls, each one a reminder of how beautiful this place was.
As we hiked, we considered taking the helicopter out for $100 per person, but I’m not a fan of flying, so we stuck to our plan to hike out. Plus, this was the big backpacking trip of the year, and I wanted to say I hiked in and out.
By the time we reached the village, we were getting hungry, so we stopped at the café for a snack and checked messages. I tried the Indian taco there, but it didn't compare to the one at the top of Havasu Falls. I regretted the full meal almost immediately—especially knowing we still had 10 miles to go.
The hike out wasn’t as exciting as the hike in. I was sad to leave, but I also knew I’d never forget this experience. As we climbed, we started passing new hikers and encouraging them, telling them, “You’re almost there!” and “You’re going to love it!” We saw mules loaded up with packages and passed a few loose dogs that joined us for a while.
By the time we hit the switchbacks, I was tired. The final mile was brutal—a 1,000-foot climb in just one mile. My legs were shot, but I powered through. It took a little over an hour for me to complete that last mile, but I finally made it to the top!
At the summit, the atmosphere starkly contrasted my experience in the canyon below. The icy wind cut through my clothing, chilling me to the bone. Earlier, I had enjoyed the warmth of the sun while trekking through the canyon, but as I ascended, I realized my sweat was making me shiver. The relentless cold made my fingers numb as I fumbled with my gear, leaving no time to celebrate reaching the summit. Instead of relishing the views, I urgently sought refuge from the cold. I hurried to my car, my legs heavy from the hike. Once inside, I melted in my seat, relieved to escape the biting wind. The chill began to dissipate as I caught my breath, reflecting on my journey. The summit, despite its beauty, reminded me of nature's unpredictability.
We had a three-hour drive ahead of us, and as we wound our way through the majestic mountains toward Sedona, the snow began to fall, intensifying with each mile. The landscape transformed into a dramatic winter tableau, with swirling snowflakes and an icy chill in the air. The winding roads became slick and treacherous, demanding our full attention as we navigated the slippery curves and changing elevations. The air was heavy with the scent of wet earth and pine, the cold, crisp fragrance of winter mixing with the anticipation of the impending storm. By the time we arrived in Sedona, the wind had really picked up, and the gusts made it feel even colder than it was. But as we stepped into the warmth of our cozy resort room, it was like stepping into a haven, a perfect refuge from the snow and wind outside.
We immediately took turns taking hot showers, letting the steam envelope us and wash away the chill of the day. The soothing warmth of the water was a welcome relief. We spent the rest of the evening making a nice meal in our mini kitchen and writing about the day's adventure. We laughed and shared photos and stories of Havasupai, the stress of the drive melting away with each passing minute.
The next day dawned bright and clear, the heavy snow having finally ceased. We decided to take a full rest day, allowing our bodies and minds to recharge before our flight home the next day. We explored the resort’s amenities, wandering the property, taking in the breathtaking views of Sedona’s famous red rock formations, their beauty even more striking against the backdrop of fresh snow. The day was a perfect blend of relaxation and gentle exploration, an ideal way to wrap up our trip before returning to the hustle and bustle of everyday life. This journey was everything I’d hoped for and more.
Hiking Havasupai was a dream come true, and I’ll always be grateful for each moment. It wasn’t just a bucket-list adventure—it was a true, unforgettable experience, and I’m already looking forward to the next one.
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