Riding Mules Into The Grand Canyon

Explaining the Grand Canyon to someone who hasn’t been there is like explaining, say, the Ocean to someone who hasn’t been to a beach. 

You can attempt to explain the vistas with words. 

You might start by saying it’s a massive archaeological fissure where a river carved a path over the centuries.  As far as your eyes can see, the earth is broken wide open, showing its layers and innards.  The fleshy tones are stacked deep enough to swallow the earth’s tallest skyscrapers.   (The Grand Canyon is 6,000 feet deep.  The tallest skyscrapers are between 1,500 – 2,700 feet.) 

But let’s not overwhelm ourselves. 

Let’s talk about how to get around the Grand Canyon. Let’s figure out how to get from the rim to the base. 

You either hike or ride a mule.

We rode mules from the Grand Canyon’s North Rim to another natural wonder, the Supai Tunnel, which is a 2300 foot decent. The trail is called the North Kaibab and includes the Coconino Overlook.

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Interestingly, the North Rim is nearly a thousand feet higher than the South Rim. To reach the valley floor and touch the Colorado River will cost your legs and hiking shoes nearly 6,000 feet and over 14 miles.  We plan to get to that epic hike Some-Other-Day.

Our mules awaited.  

Why are mules the vehicle of choice for these steep and rocky descents?   Simple:  They are not as likely to fall.  Check!  I needed to know more (before I bought my $90 ticket).   Mules are sure footed, placing their rear hooves in the exact same foothold as the front hooves.  They also have optimal vision for rocky, steep environments along the side of a cliff.  Their eyes can move independently, allowing for a panoramic vision field of about 350 degrees.  They are super strong, easily carrying up to 20% of their body weight up and down some of the steepest cliffs and trails.  Their endurance rivals no other. Ranchers and cowboys will tell you that mules can travel farther than horses and are less likely to get injured. Their strong sense of self-preservation and intelligence has erroneously branded them as “stubborn”. More accurately, they have an innate sense of their limitations. They will not move, or will perhaps lay down, if their load is too heavy.

Our trail guides were avid horsemen and ranchers.  My closest trail guide and I chatted about mules and their history as we (the mules) lumbered down.  The head and backside of my mule sloped down at an acute angle as she confidently plucked her way down the inches wide and rocky trail.  Dolly held my life in her hooves as she uncomprehendingly maneuvered her massive body around switchback corners and the cliff cutouts.

One thing I learned the day after, is that your abs get a great workout as they unconsciously overcompensate for the vision of tumbling down thousands of feet.  I patted Dolly and said “Good Girl!” every time she made it beyond a skinny ledge that I was sure we were going to die on.  There’s always the grisly stories at National Parks each year.  A fall off a ledge, a tumble into a steaming geyser. Why not me?, I thought each time I looked down hundreds of feet. Part of the trail is shaded with trees. On particularly steep vistas, I visually cued the one I would grab and hang onto to break my fall. 

It was great that our guide (called a Wrangler) provided a distraction.  He was a verbal pamphlet of facts as we made our way down endless switchbacks.  He belonged to a family ranch outside of Zion Park, a member of its younger generation.  He said he enjoyed the change of scenery of the North Rim and, of course, the extra income.  (A sidenote for the challenging economies of ranching.)

I  later learned that Grand Canyon mule rides have had an almost spotless safety record in the past century.  Far better, statistically, than any other activity in the park.  They possess more intelligence than their hybrid horse/donkey parents and a common sense approach to survival.  Perhaps that’s why Dolly stopped every time there was a patch of vegetation on the side of the trail.  Either that, or she inherently knew I have an easy going personality and empathized with her need for snacks. As long as she got us both down the cliff in one piece, I figured it was her right to do some nibbling. It was around the fourth snack stop and the eye roll from our trail guide (he had advised me to pull her head up), I realized Dolly, being highly intelligent, might very well say ‘To Hell’ with the ride and munch on the vegetation clusters all day if given the choice. I got tough. Well, slightly. I was always a complete failure as a no-more cookies mom.

There are a few brave hikers along this trail who dutifully step to the side to avoid startling the mules. Having ridden the mules down this trail, I would advise new hikers that it can be a barn-like floor on parts of the trail.

Perceived danger aside, the descent opens to expansive and differing views of the north end of the canyon and takes you through a variety of landscapes and geology. The top of the North Rim is a drier forest, lots of Ponderosa pines and Spruce which can survive the deep, snowy winters and hot summers. One of the first rest and view areas is the sandstone formation of the Coconino Overlook. Further down, the red walls and formations start to appear with the highlight of the Supai Tunnel. This area was the day’s destination and we dismounted and gave our mules a rest while we hiked around and snapped up the digital remembrances of the intense red hues.

The North RIm of the Grand Canyon has less visitors than the South Rim (about one quarter), so you can usually sign up the day of or the day before your mule ride. Reservations can be required weeks or months in advance at the South Rim.  

The North Rim mule riding season is May – October.

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