Havasupai a quiet pocket of Grand Canyon

Five hundred miles away, there’s a lawn that needs mowing. The desk at the office in Los Angeles is buried with work.

Right now, none of that matters. I’m reclining against a warm, smooth rock after a swim in the turquoise-hued pools of Havasu Creek, and the only thing I have to worry about is getting too much sun.

A thundering waterfall makes conversation difficult. That’s good. This tableau of mighty canyon walls, sapphire blue skies, springtime greenery and crystal-clear water is best taken in without chatter.

Getting to Supai, Ariz., had taken some doing. There was a nine-hour drive across the desert to the Hualapai Indian Reservation northeast of Kingman, Ariz., followed by a chilly Friday night camped under the stars on the Hualapai Hilltop. Then, rising at dawn, we saddled ourselves with backpacks full of camping gear and hiked 10 miles.

Our reward: this gem-like pocket of the Grand Canyon known as Havasupai Canyon. Here, the blue-green waters of Havasu Creek tumble to the Colorado River through a trio of remarkable waterfalls – Navajo, Havasu and Mooney.

If you’ve ever stood on the South Rim of the Grand Canyon and wanted to explore one of the many redoubts within the giant chasm, Havasupai is a good place to start.

Although it’s just 40 miles west of Grand Canyon Village, Havasupai is 180 miles away by road, and a greater distance by vibe. There are no shuttle buses, pricey souvenirs or four-star restaurants. You won’t find big crowds either. To get here, you walk, ride a horse or descend by helicopter. The Havasupai Tribe runs a lodge in Supai and a campground that skirts the creek outside the village.

The three main waterfalls and the pools below them are the big attractions, each a stunning oasis in the Arizona desert. Unlike the icy cold Colorado River a few miles away, the waters of Havasu Creek are about 70 degrees most of the year.

Supai, the village where the Havasupai have lived for centuries, is one of the last places in the country where the mail is packed in and out by four-legged beasts. A postcard mailed from the Supai post office will be postmarked “Mule Train Mail.”

To visit, you must make reservations through the tribal office and pay an entrance fee. If you’re willing to pay more, you can ride into the canyon on a horse or even in a helicopter. You can also walk down with just a day pack and water and pay to have your camping gear hauled in.

For us, these options aren’t even slightly tempting; we’re backpackers. In the last six or seven years, Greg Lievense and I have led teenage Venture Scouts on hikes across the Sierra Nevada and San Gabriel ranges in California and through the Sangre de Cristo Mountains in New Mexico. But our sons are now at or near 18, and our days of Scout hikes are coming to an end. Havasupai, we figure, will be the place to close out a chapter.

In 1880 or thereabouts, prospector D.W. “James” Mooney lashed himself to a rope and went over a cliff where Havasu Creek plunges 190 feet. The rope broke, Mooney was killed, and the place has been known as Mooney Falls ever since.

Descending the steep trail on Sunday morning, we have no problem imagining what happened to Mooney as we crouch through a series of narrow, cave-like tunnels to reach the bottom of the falls. Spray makes for slippery footing, and a misstep could be deadly. Heavy chains have been drilled into the rock at strategic points to provide handholds. The last leg of the descent is along an aluminum ladder tied fast to the cliff.

We see signs of an ancient waterfall that had sliced through the red and tan rock, shaping it into a natural cathedral.

We climb to a high point at the end of the canyon, the rushing waters of Havasu Creek no longer audible, and for a change, even the boys are almost silent. I have not been to Notre Dame, but on this Sunday morning in spring, I cannot imagine any architect topping the job nature has done here in the desert.

At my son Kevin’s suggestion, we decide to hike back up the trail, past the campground, to Navajo Falls.

Unlike Havasu and Mooney falls, Navajo is only partly visible from the main trail. After finding the unmarked side trail, crossing the creek on a fallen log and scrambling through some shrubbery, we get our first good look. The water cascades down a wide swath of rock into a pool that proves to be the best swimming hole yet.

In an instant, we are all in the water and swimming toward the falls. We find a grotto-like area where streams of water shower down from a dozen directions. Nice, but too shady. I swim out beneath the main falls, where the sun warms the water on its downward flight.

As dusk approaches, the boys cook frankfurters, slice them and mix them into macaroni and cheese.

For me, it’s perhaps one last night in the field with kids I’ve been hiking with for half a dozen years. There will be lots of time to mow the lawn.

If you go…

Getting there: To get to Havasupai, take state Route 66 east from Kingman, Ariz., to Indian Route 18, to the Hualapai Hilltop parking area and trailhead. It’s a 10-mile hike to the campground. You can also ride in on horseback, or fly in via Airwest Helicopters, 623-516-2790.

General information: Call the Havasupai tourist office Monday through Friday 9 a.m. to 3 p.m., 928-448-2121 or 928-448-2141, or go to www.havasupaitribe.com.