One of the heaviest rains of the season falls on the day between our hikes. At times, you cannot see beyond the stone walls at the edge of the canyon for the fog. We are very grateful to not be out in all that. We are also grateful for the ten degree drop in temperature that follows.
Despite the drop in temps, we choose to rise early again in order to be across the floor before the heat of the day. This time I begin in my fleece and gloves. We huddle at the shuttle stop with a father, son and uncle here to do their first rim to rim. Mom/wife/sister will meet them tonight at the North Rim and drive them back tomorrow.
The South Kaibab trail is very exposed, meaning you get jaw dropping vistas all along the way. Of course, we don’t see much at our pre-dawn start. But it is fun to watch the head-lamps and flashlights bobbing like fireflies along the trail above and below us. When we reach Cedar Ridge we recall hiking this far with our children 8 years ago. We decide that was pretty ambitious given the youngest was only 9 at the time.
The sun paints the sky in muted cotton candy shades; a surprising counterpoint to the stark, jagged landscape. Puddles stand in the deep recesses of the path. Up close they are brown and nasty, but from a distance, they hold glassy bits of sky.
Mike didn’t sleep well again and I know a part of him is worried about what this means. But as we move forward, as our bodies warm, we are both encouraged to find that nothing hurts. Our bodies feel strong. And the coolness, even in direct sunlight, is gift. Today’s hike will be very different because of it.
We have changed up our food supply a bit for day two and I love it! It was our goal to pack only enough food to last for day one. This we learned from last year. We made a resupply run to the market on Saturday. Some of the things we usually use were not available, and frankly we tired of those on Friday anyway, so we added Pringles potato chips and Pepperidge Farm Chesapeake cookies to the mix. Every time we pull one of these out it feels like a decadent luxury. (Incidentally, we did pack electrolyte solution for both days. Not a good idea to mess with that).
The sun has not been up long when we pass a supply train going down to Phantom Ranch. These quiet, gentle animals have served in the canyon in some capacity for years. They leave traces all along the trail. I trust I do not need to elaborate on that. 🙂
We descend past layer upon layer of colored rock. Fragments of each layer make their way down the hillside and accumulate along the path and in creek-beds to create lovely kaleidoscopes.
It has gotten surprisingly warm by the time we reach the black bridge that will take us across the Colorado. You pass through a tunnel to reach the bridge and today with light and puddles, it takes on a peculiar charm.
At Phantom Ranch, I treat myself to indulgence number two: Coffee. No cafe or dining establishment was open when we left for the trail, and a cup of java is sounding pretty amazing right now. I pull a chocolatey Chesapeake out of my bag and the combination is so delightful that I feel like I might float to the North Rim. Instead, I chatter my way across the floor and Mike surely wonders if that money could not have been better spent elsewhere. 😉
While at Phantom Ranch, we meet a group of folks who are part of a fitness ministry. As we talk, we learn that they were just in Franklin making a presentation at our former church, and we have mutual friends. It really is a small world. After all. We will play leap frog for the rest of the day, and run into them again tomorrow at breakfast.
Between the cooling effects of the rain and the intermittent clouds, our trip across the floor today is a breeze. Before we know it, we are filling our bottles at Cottonwood Campground and commencing the seven mile climb to the North Rim.
From here on out, we are almost entirely in shade. There are moments when the breeze is almost chilly. Almost. We don’t talk much about last year, but we both remember slogging up this section of the trail, unsure whether we would make it out. Two switchbacks and a rest. Two switchbacks and a rest. Today could not be more different. Still, the section between the Pump House and Supai Tunnel seems interminable. When we finally see the tunnel, I have to resist the urge to kiss it. We reunite with friends from the trail, fill our water bottles one last time and sprawl out across the rocks for a final rest.
This last section of trail we are traveling for the third time, yet we have never seen it. Last year, sunset overtook us before we made the top. On Friday, we began before dawn. I feel myself pulled forward by my curiosity. For the whole of it, we can see our destination above us. It seems so far away. But we have learned not to trust our eyes for distance here. They are unreliable.
Aspens, oaks and maples are changing their dresses for autumn, adding to the pastiche of color in the canyon. I keep stopping to take pictures. Some of them include Mike looking back at me with this expression that seems to say, “Really?! Again?!” I can’t help it. Everything is so pretty. And there is this bubbly something inside of me that already knows we are going to make it out of here, even if we have to crawl. And somehow, I want to capture this moment, to hold onto something of what it means to be here. To stitch memory into my body of the exhaustion and desire, the longing and fear, the determination and raw visceral urge, the glory. Yes, the glory.
At the trail-head, we stop and sit for a space. I would like to say it is because we want to drink deeply of this moment and, while that might not be untrue, we mostly are just worn out. But it is the sweet fatigue that speaks of having accomplished what we set out to do. Of finishing the course. Of keeping faith. Our words of congratulation to one another are hollow beside the plain truth of being here. Of living to tell the tale. The full meaning of it will be unfolding in us for days to come.
And when life throws hard things at us, impossible things, we will remember this.
Every second of the search is an encounter with God. When I have been truly searching for my treasure, every day has been luminous…I’ve discovered things along the way that I never would have seen had I not had the courage to try things that seemed impossible. ~Paulo Coelho
Rim to Rim to Rim, particulars:
Stats: 45 miles; more than 10,000′ vertical gain; 13 hours the 1st day, 10:45 the 2nd; temp range 43*-95*
Hydration: Mike likes Gatorade G2 grape while I favor Skratch Labs raspberry and lemon. I began both days with Orange Juice in one of my bottles. Mike also used oj on day two.
Snacks included: Walnuts and almonds, Cliff bars, Pay Day candy bars, Sesame Rice Chips, Power Bar gels, Gatorade energy chews, Summer Sausage, Cheese sticks, Werther’s hard caramels, and the aforementioned Pringles and Chesapeakes. Mike breakfasted on oatmeal and I had yogurt and granola.
This and That: We both carried REI Flash 22 backpacks. My boots are Keen and Mike’s are Merrell. We both like wool socks; mine are Smartwool and his are Darn Tough. I would perish without Moleskin. Several essential doTerra oils traveled in the handy keychain affixed to the outside of my pack. Walking poles are non-negotiable, in my estimation. Zip-off shorts with multiple pockets are the best. A bandana has a thousand uses. And the iPhone was camera, carrier of maps and other info, books, poems, prayers, and communication for the in-between day.
Sleeps: I highly recommend the Grand Canyon Lodge on the North Rim and Bright Angel Lodge on the South. Neither offers television if you are into that sort of thing, and cell service is intermittent at best. But for rustic charm and convenient access to the trails, they can’t be beat.
Eats: The North Rim’s Elk chili is famous (and fabulous!), and you can get it at any of their three eateries. If you leave without trying it you should be shot. Also, the Arizona Room at Bright Angel Lodge serves a mean Buffalo Burger. Recovery food, you understand. And the bicycle shop at the South Rim has great sandwiches and is conveniently located right next to the visitor center.