The Grand Canyon is a place of endless wonder, beauty and adventure

Time and again. From rim to river. From end to end.

I’ve strolled easy terrain along the South Rim and North Rim — taking in drop-dead views that have launched countless colorful calendars.

I’ve trekked for days deep in the gorge and traversed the big pit on trails from rim to rim.

I’ve rafted the entire length of the Canyon on the Colorado River, camping on riverbanks all along the way.

Dozens of visits and myriad experiences have only whetted my appetite for more. In honor of the 100-year anniversary of being designated a national park, here are some treasured memories — in necessarily brief nuggets — of my Canyon adventures.

View from the top

Simply peering into the mile-deep, 277-mile-long canyon from an overlook on the South Rim is always a mesmerizing experience when my wife, Donna, and I arrive for yet another visit. We’ve scanned the expanse of geologic splendor from foreground to the distant North Rim, which at 8,000 feet is a thousand feet higher than the South Rim.

From another overlook, we’ve watched bighorn sheep gambol just below the rim. Another time lightning created an electrifying spectacle over the great gorge — not to mention the times snowfall cloaked upper reaches of the Canyon.

We’ve stayed, and dined, at the historic El Tovar Hotel in Grand Canyon Village. We’ve also made our way to the spectacular Hermit’s Rest overlook west of the village and to Desert View with its high observation tower to the east. Many times.

On the more remote and less-visited North Rim, I’ve written stories for this newspaper and Arizona Highways magazine about hiking forested trails and camping at remote sites near overlooks with views straight down toward the Colorado River.

The lodge at the North Rim and nearby cabins have provided welcome shelter on chilly and rainy nights. A deck outside the lodge offers uber-spectacular views, often enjoyed while sipping hot coffee.

A trailhead on the North Rim also served as a starting point for a trek across the Canyon.

Into the depths

Lifetimes of hiking and camping await in the depths of the Grand Canyon. My many treks below the rim seem like a mere sampling compared to the adventures of the most avid Canyon explorers over the years.

Still, I hold many rich memories. I can’t recall how many times I’ve hiked the Bright Angel Trail from Grand Canyon Village about 4.7 miles down to a beautiful site called Indian Gardens. From there, I’ve continued down steep switchbacks called the Devil’s Corkscrew, picked up the River Trail, crossed a Suspension Bridge and arrived at Bright Angel Campground. It’s about 9.5 miles from the rim to the campground.

After pitching a tent at the campground, I’ve walked to nearby Phantom Ranch for a warm meal before returning to the tent and bedding down.

Another trek I’ve enjoyed more than once is a rim to river hike on the South Kaibab Trail — a one-way distance of about 6.8 miles from the rim to Bright Angel Campground.

A not-so-romantic memory: I once convinced Donna to hike from the rim to the river in the afternoon — with plans to eat a trail lunch on the riverbank and then hike out by the full moon. Uh, not so much. Clouds moved in, snow covered the trail, and we groaned our way back to the rim in freezing temperatures and sans moonlight — dodging puddles of urine left by pack mules.

Another time, I joined a photographer friend for a 24-mile trek from the North Rim to the South Rim.

A story I wrote about the hike began: “At a place called the Eye of the Needle, I feel the Grand Canyon in the pit of my stomach. The feeling is sheer drop. The feeling is narrow trail. The feeling is don’t fall. The Eye of the Needle, a short passage of trail named for a nearby needle-shaped spire, is essentially a ledge that was blasted into a vertical wall of what I dearly hope is solid limestone. The ledge is 5 or 6 feet wide and perfectly safe — so long as you watch where you walk.”

We watched where we walked — descending the steep North Kaibab Trail to the Colorado River and continuing on the Bright Angel Trail to the South Rim.

Along the way, we stopped at Roaring Springs, a site where water gushes out of a wall of rock along the North Kaibab Trail. The National Park Service maintains a pumping station there to supply water to both rims.

Down the river

The more you study the Grand Canyon and learn about the role of the Colorado River in carving it, the more you want to raft the river through the great gash in the earth.

I didn’t have the experience to raft the river with a small group of friends, and I didn’t have the money to pay for a pricey commercial rafting trip.

Alas, the planets aligned. I took an Arizona Highways assignment to write about the entire route of the Little Colorado River from high on the slopes of Mount Baldy to its confluence with the Colorado River deep in the Grand Canyon. Editors agreed that I had to see the confluence and put me on a raft trip to get there — expenses paid.

After passing the confluence, I would need to stay on the raft through the entire canyon. Donna and I found a way to pay for her spot aboard the seven-day raft trip — and we were off.

Aboard a relatively large raft piloted by an experienced boatman, we would hang on tight and whoop in wonder as we negotiated more than 60 rapids. They range from Class 1 riffles to monster drops — sometimes reaching Class 10 — such as Crystal Rapid and Lava Falls.

Between rapids, the raft would sometimes glide along on mostly smooth water — allowing opportunities to peer up toward the Canyon rim and spot bighorn sheep and other wildlife along the riverbank. Also coming into view from time to time: side-canyon waterfalls and ancient Anasazi Indian ruins.

Each afternoon, the boatman and his fellow guides found an excellent riverside campsite.

An added benefit of this commercial trip over a self-supported journey: The week’s dinner entrees included steak, spaghetti, Mexican food, broiled chicken and fish. Hearty breakfasts began with mud-thick “cowboy coffee” and included eggs, bacon, coffee and even pork chops.

We tried to call this “roughing it,” but nobody was buying.

A lasting memory: Lying in a sleeping bag late at night with the sound of the Colorado River flowing by and the slot of sky between sheer canyon walls glistening with stars.