As soon as the sun set, it became chilly, then cold, then very cold. I had no coat, but I put on long underwear and corduroy pants and a sweatshirt with a hood. I slept well and comfortably that night, never even realizing till I saw the report at the Visitor s Center the next day, that the night time low was 17 degrees. The next day was warm again, not quite shirtless warm, but close. The following evening was not much warmer than the previous, in the high twenties.
Campers don t stay up late in such weather.
Oh sure, we had our campfires, but we left them burning and fled to our sleeping bags as if we had a curfew. Nothing like comfort in a sleeping bag when the world outside the tent is frigid. On Monday morning, I caught the sunrise over the purple rim of the canyon. The liquid amber sloshing over the top, and on the western side, the peaks and fissures, and all the walls diagonally staked with pinion pine trees, all awakening in color and light. The beauty, again, defies description.