The Grand Canyon Camping Trip
As we adjust to life in Arizona, we are finally feeling settled enough to start doing things and exploring the area. The summer is too hot to do anything outside in the Phoenix area, so we decided to head North this past weekend and take the kids camping.
Since we were going to be an hour away from the Grand Canyon, I insisted that I finally check that off of my bucket list.
As we headed to the Canyon, I knew it was going to be a long ride when within 5 minutes of getting in the car, my son started asking, “Can we go home now?” He whined those words almost the entire 4-hour trip.
By the time we got to the Canyon, the lines were long and the parking lots were full. If you are planning on visiting the Grand Canyon in the Summer, you should try to get there before 10:00 am. Any later and you will probably end up parking a distance away and walking, which is what we ended up doing.
I knew this was going to be the walk from hell as my son grumpily got out of the car and my daughter frowned as she asked how long it was going to be.
But when we finally got to the trail, my daughter was immediately in awe of what she was seeing. She kept saying how beautiful and amazing it was. It takes a lot to impress this kid, so I was pleasantly surprised by her response.
Junior was not impressed however. It was well past his naptime, so he was hating life and everything in it. But I was too busy taking it all in to let it bother me too much. I was mesmerized by what some call the “8th wonder.” And I now know that I definitely need a selfie stick. Approximately 1 in 5 people at the Canyon had it and now it makes perfect sense. This is not some silly, useless contraption! It is a necessity!
After too short of a while, my husband looked at his watch and reminded me that it was an hour drive to the campground and everyone was going to want to eat soon. To which I promptly growled like a wild animal and told him not to rush me. As the 2-year-old continued to whine and almost ruin every last picture, I looked at him and said: “Can you please be quiet and just look at the pretty views?” Unedited translation in my head: “Shut the hell up and enjoy God’s beautiful creation, dammit!!”
Reluctantly, I admitted that we did need to cut it short and we got on the road to our camping destination. On the long walk back to the car, a guy pulled his van over to the side of the road and asked if we needed a ride back to the lot. I declined. I’m sure he was a nice person just trying to be helpful, but by the off chance he wasn’t, I didn’t feel like having the whole family kidnapped and ruining a perfectly good day.
When we arrived, my husband set up the tent while I held the baby and the kids ran around and played. Without any prompting. And enjoyed it! Until they started fighting over sticks and rocks. There are only a billion of them around, but they decided that certain sticks and rocks belonged only to them and the other couldn’t play with it.
As the weather cooled down and the sun began to set, we ate dinner and then enjoyed some s’mores around the campfire. Dad gave a s’more to the 2-year-old. As I watched him take a bite, I zoomed in on the chocolate. CHOCOLATE!! Noooooo! Chocolate gives him diarrhea! I almost dove for it to snatch it from his hands like he was holding a ticking time bomb. A bomb that would result in explosions in his pull-up.
I was busy feeding the baby, so I yelled for my husband to take the s’more out of his hand. “But you told me to give it to him!” “I wasn’t thinking! You know what chocolate does to him!” Before the kid could work up a cry, dad quickly gave him back a chocolate-less s’more. Crisis averted!
As the night began to fall, I got the kids changed and put them in the tent. The baby was out like a light so I put him in as well.
My husband and I sat next to the crackling fire and just talked. We looked up at the night sky and saw the brightest stars. I warmed my hands over the fire as the kids were not sleeping in the tent and sounds of giggling filled the air with alternating screams of “Get off me! You’re too close! Stop hitting me with Snoopy!” And my son yelling “Mom! I don’t wanna go night, night!”
It was starting to get chilly, but I knew before I went to bed that I had to finally use the campground toilet. The vault toilet. The toilet that doesn’t flush. I had been holding it for hours, dreading entering the dungeon of hell. I held my breath and tried not to look down. Thankfully it was dark with only the light of the lantern. I got out of there as quickly as I could, but the trauma remained.
We all piled into one tent and within 10 seconds of laying down, dad says “Ok, who’s farting?” The toddler declared, “I no fart dad!” My daughter acted like she was offended just by the question. I think it may have been the baby. But the culprit was never discovered.
I didn’t sleep a wink. The 2-year-old was moved away from his sister and put next to me. So I had the pleasure of getting karate chopped in the back and head all night by him. On the other side of me was the baby. I literally spent all night trying to make sure he was warm enough.
Everyone at some point fell asleep. Though dad insists he was awake like I was and those snores I kept hearing all night were him “pretending” to sleep so the kids would follow his lead. Right, dad. Sure.
As I laid there, I turned and saw everyone sleeping and thought it was pretty cool. All of us sleeping together under the night sky in one tent. As I was romanticizing the moment, I began to hear howls. Wait, those don’t sound like dog howls. That sounds like…Coyotes?!? I started to slightly panic, wondering if I should wake my husband. Do they attack? Should I snatch everyone up and run to the car? Despite my fears, the howling didn’t last long and I slowly relaxed and settled back down.
As morning came, I was glad the night was over. The baby didn’t cry too much and wake up the whole campground. It got cold, but no one seemed to be too miserable. And we survived. Despite the headaches of having to deal with young children, I really enjoyed this camping trip and our visit to the Canyon.
As we packed up the car after breakfast and the toddler got in, he said “Mom?” I just knew he was going to ask “can we go home now?” and this time I could say, yes! I said “What is it, honey?” “I don’t wanna go home! I wanna stay here!”
