Saguaro Lounge

After biting off a bit more than we could chew in terms of Grand Canyon hikes, it was all I could do to slowly shuffle into the hotel bar. In retrospect, I wish I'd have stayed in my room and eaten the leftover beef jerky and trail mix. But instead I chose the Saguaro Lounge's nachos supreme, and quickly spread the post-hike pain from my legs to my entire gastro intestinal system. And trying to get service at this place was like Steven Hawking trying to sing a love ballad. It was just an awful experience and I wouldn't recommend that any tourists or would-be day trekkers try to stomach the atrocities they serve up at the Saguaro Lounge. Not since "127 hours" has a hiker dealt with adversity like this. Maybe I'll write a movie about it. About my post-dining ordeal back in the motel bathroom. I'll call it "127 hours".