I’m not an adventure traveler. So when I tell you that I went on the overnight mule ride to the bottom of the Grand Canyon, you should understand that I was way out of my comfort zone. It wasn’t my idea -- it was my father-in-law’s and he thought it would be a great experience. So, one lovely day we headed over from Las Vegas, spent the night in a cabin at Bright Angel and prepared for our journey the next morning.
As we walked over to where the mules were waiting, I asked my father-in-law how long it had been since he had been on a horse. His reply, “Well, I guess I have been on one some time since the war.”  I turned and asked my husband the same thing. His reply startled me even more, “I guess at birthday parties when I was five or six.”  So, as we started our adventure, I realized I had the most horse riding experience and I’m scared of the darn things. As we got closer to the mules I also found out I didn’t actually know what a mule was. I was thinking donkeys – something a lot smaller than what was standing in front of me.

With the help of the wranglers, we all got up on our mules, assigned based on our weight. My husband was at the end of the group, my father-in-law in the middle, and I was in the front. The first part of the trail was spectacular.  We left the safety of the rim and started a steep decline. The mules walk on the outside edge of the trail before turning. It’s a little unnerving at first. After a while I began to have confidence in my mule, relaxed, and enjoyed the ride and the view.

We rode for about two hours, stopped for lunch at Indian Gardens, a shady spot with restrooms and water fountains and then headed on down to the Phantom Ranch. In order to get to the Ranch we had to cross a narrow bridge (designed for hikers and mules) over the Colorado River. We arrived around 2:00. Some people went for hikes, some soaked their feet in the river and some (like me) just rested. The cabins were rustic, but comfortable. We had a wonderful steak dinner that night. The atmosphere was festive. The group was made up of our mule troop, hikers and campers. It was amazing to look up at the stars. We were so deep in the Canyon that there was only a narrow section of sky visible surrounded by cliffs.

The next morning, after a pancake breakfast we headed towards our mules again. I admit my muscles were hurting. I’m not used to riding for an hour – let alone six. But, if the mules were game (and it was clear they were) then I could make it too. 

The ride up was steeper but shorter. We stared up South Kaibab Trail. Again, it’s hard to describe the incredible views on all sides of us. Some parts of the trail overlooked areas so deep that I couldn’t look down. I’m not particularly afraid of heights, but the trip did challenge me occasionally. The mule riding experience I gained the day before made the second day go more smoothly. In no time we were back up to the top. We got off our mules, bid them a fond farewell and tried to act as if our muscles weren’t hurting.

We headed over to the closest scenic overlook to marvel that we had the opportunity to go to those areas that seemed so distant from our rim location. At that moment, we started planning our next foray down into the Canyon.

   

Grand Canyon Mule Trips from the South Rim must be booked in advance – as early as 13 months prior, though there is more availability from the North Rim.  Shorter trips are also offered, go to the National Parks Service Grand Canyon mule trip webpage to see options, restrictions and reservation information.