#7 – Toroweap Discoveries
June 18, 2026,
At dawn, the eastern sky glowed softly as muted golden sunlight touched the distant mountain, then spread upward into the heavens and outward toward our camp. Behind us, the clouds in the western sky caught the same morning light, their edges tinged with crimson to match the rocky landscape. All was at peace. My soul was content. Calm and serenity blanketing the land.
My first visit to Toroweap in 1999 allowed me to meet another visitor who came from Spain to paint the landscapes. He was with his wife, brother and sister-in-law. From his previous visits he had make many discoveries, including a long-forgotten wagon trail when they once grazed cattle in the area. Ruts from those wagons had worn deep impressions in the flat, rocky surfaces that ended in an area where remnants of a cowboy camp once existed including a makeshift stone fireplace and embedded rods in the rock (for tying harness reins) and a distinctive water trough. Our camp neighbors, JT and Shawn, were anxious to see these discoveries and joined us on the search. While I’ve been there several times, it always takes me time to re-discover it.
These were the landmarks I sought on our little expedition that morning but finding them challenged me. Knowing the general area, we wandered around in search for this place. After many circular meanderings, I finally sighted the water trough.
One could imagine that, under a clear starlit sky, cowboys camped there enjoying hearty meals cooked over open flames, while horses were neighing and cattle lowing throughout the night. It would have been a rough yet rewarding life out on the range in the grandeur of the wild open space and so near the breathtaking edge of the Grand Canyon.
The solitary water trough for the horses and cattle sat a short distance from the cowboy camp. From the water trough, a metal pipe led over a cliff edge and below that along a narrow ledge ending at a natural spring under the cliff. Apparently, a pump was used to bring the spring water up to the trough.
Following the iron pipe, we carefully clambered down over the cliff following the pipe to the natural spring. Around the pool of water, not much larger than an oversized bathtub, an abundance of grasses and other vegetation flourished. Trickling from above the pool, a steady supply of water was provided.
We spent some time along that narrow ledge, eating snacks and rehydrating, chatting, watching hawks soaring above us, noting the rock formations, enjoying the vast rugged beauty that surrounded us.
Our neighbors, ready to leave Toroweap, hung with us for a while, before heading back to our campsites. As they were about to leave, they discovered they had one tire losing air. As luck would have it, Mark actually had a mini compressor that helped them inflate the tire so that they could get back on the road and hopefully, successfully back to civilization.
Mark and I did more exploring around the area for the remainder of the morning and rested after lunch. Not being able to sit still, I headed back to the cliffs overlooking the river, just as I have done on previous visits there. Feeling like a kid, my explorations along the rim still held an excitement for me. Massive blocks of red rocks looking like they had been strewn about, hung along the canyon’s edge. Scant vegetation maintained a hold in and around the rocks. Venturing down closer to the edge, peering over into the depths was a bit disconcerting, as I felt weakness from my lower abdomen down into my legs (that weak in the knees feeling). Not to worry, I’d learned to overcome those unsettling feelings at an early age when I fearlessly walked on open beams or up vertical ladders in our barn in Ohio.
Late afternoon, as sunset approached, Mark & I ventured out on a hike into the surrounding desert and to the canyon’s edge. Deep in the canyon, darkness had already settled, while up above, the golden glow of sunset cast its fading light upon the cliffs, rocks, mountainsides. As in a stage production, a curtain was closing as the lights dimmed, quiet settling upon the land. Appearing for his last curtain call a lone jackrabbit stopped to watch us as we watched it. Stage left, the rabbit hopped away as Mark and I exited stage right.
On our last night at Toroweap the night was warm and still. Beneath the dark, starlit sky, feeling contented in my NaturNest rooftop tent, I reflected on the day until sleep finally overtook me.
