Hiking has given me a lot of fond memories. One of my favorites was spending Thanksgiving 1999 hiking in the Grand Canyon. We originally planned to take the Grandview Trail to Horseshoe Mesa, head east on the Tonto Trail to the Hance Rapids, and then head back to civilization via the the Red Canyon Trail. It took a little longer than we thought to get below Horseshoe Mesa, and rather than spending all our time hiking, we changed plans and did a loop around Horseshoe Mesa. This gave us plenty of time to relax and enjoy the magnificent views...and to eat! We brought with us a 6 lb smoked turkey breast, two bottles of wine, stuffing, chicken stock and herbs for the sauce, and chocolate truffles for dessert. On the way, we met two women whose idea of Thanksgiving dinner consisted of sliced turkey breast from the supermarket. Didn't take much persuasion for them to join us, and they brought the cranberry sauce to complete our meal! The views, conversation, and company made that trip one I will remember for many years to come.

I didn't think anything would top that in a two-nighter, but Havasu Falls has. The ten mile hike in and out has some pretty sections (see the photo on the right). However, what the camera doesn't capture are the dust and the smell - of horse droppings, urine, and - if your lucky - a dead horse. But once you get there, you discover yourself in an oasis of beauty!

Even better for many people is that Havasu Falls does not require extensive backpacking experience to visit. The Havasupai Indians, who own this corner of paradise, will (for a fee) transport your bags down and either fly you down via helicopter, or escort your down via horseback. It's therefore a wonderful way to introduce someone to the joys of backpacking without making him or her swear never to do it again. The only disadvantage is that you may have some noisy neighbors, particularly those who are on some expensive catered tour.

The Havasupai Indians have lived here since about 1300 AD. Their name is Havasuw `Baaja, the people of the blue green waters. They are one of the smallest Indian Nations, with about 600 people living on the reservation. For centuries, they farmed the surrounding land, growing corn, squash, melons and beans. In the winter, they migrated to the canyon rim where game was more plentiful. They led a peaceful coexistence with the neighboring Zuni and Hopi tribes. In the 1880s, white ranchers and miners arrived, soon forcing the Havasupai onto a 518 acre reservation, which included Havasu Falls but did not include their hunting grounds. One of those miners was Mooney, who died while trying to descend the falls that now bears his name. In 1975, Congress finally restored 185,000 acres of their winter homelands. A little late - the old skills were lost, and supermarkets had replaced hunting - but it was still an important recognition of their rights. The Havasupai today continue to cultivate their crops (including peaches - the second weekend of August is their famous Peach Festival) and speak their own language (which has also become a written language). They were once renown for their basket weaving skills, but today they have become even more famous for the surrounding natural beauty in which they live.