It’s a Small World

I feel a bit like roadkill. With only 5 hours of sleep, a Rim2Rim hike, two flights and a long drive in the last 60 hours, I feel like a dead raccoon. But was it worth it? 100 times Yes. Would I do it again? Never. Probably.

We flew to Phoenix with our friend Sharon from MB, met Andrew, another friend who flew into PHX, then hammered down to Tusayan in time for a quick supper and meet and greet with Darwin & Kim and their teenager, Dalin.

The bed at the Red Feather felt tremendous! But the idea of only being in it for two hours, not so much.

Our shuttle was at the hotel entrance waiting for us before 12:30am, and we boarded feeling sleepy, excited and vaguely nervous. My legs were firmly encased in compression socks and headlamps were at the ready.

It was dark. New moon in fact, and though the stars were absolutely brilliant, they didn’t exactly light up the canyon, or the trail. The canyon people suggest, with posted placards and everything, that it is best to hike with only your red light on so as to preserve night vision. I’m sure the theory is correct, but it didn’t take very many missed steps, slamming your toes into boulders, or misjudging the height of a step before you came to the swift conclusion that it was better to preserve life and limb than night vision. Our bright beacons were snapped on, and we proceeded with less, tho still a-lot, of skidding, stumbling and generally descending down the trail into the canyon. Why the path isn’t liberally strewn with victims of sprained knees and ankles is beyond me. I really wanted to spend some time stargazing, but time was a-marching and so must we.

The three R2R2R hikers soon left us single crossing folk in the dust (literally!!) as they had twice the distance to cover. We hiked alone almost the whole way down, tho we could see the twinkles of distant headlamps here and there.

I almost think it’s easier to hike when you can’t see how far you have to go, or how steep the drop offs are. On the flip side, it’s a bit harder to hike when you see a constant swirl of dust in beam of your light, and moths keep dive bombing your forehead. Sharon had never been to the Canyon before, so for her it was a definite venture of faith.

The Rim2Rim Hike is somewhat divided into three 7mi segments. That number 7 seems quite fluid, and nobody seems to quite agree on how long a mile is in the canyon. As one lady wrote online “the miles in the canyon are 3 or 4 times longer than normal miles”. I think she was earnestly speaking. I knew precisely what she meant, but the hike IS truly 21-23 miles long. Back to the segments, first one ends down at the bottom by Phantom Ranch. You could hear the Colorado from the Black Bridge, but actually seeing it wasn’t an option. In vain did I shine my light down, but no go.

We took a quick break at the Ranch, us and a few others silently shuffling around, refilling waters, snacking, pasting moleskins onto hotspots and trying to find the toilet. It was 3:30am, so they encouraged us, by signage, not to disturb the campers.

Dodging mule poo and thorns, we pressed on down the trail, this time into “The Box”. I guess I still haven’t seen it, but I have felt it and touched it. You could see the outline of the cliffs against the milky way, and at one point Sharon looked up and said “Imagine, we have to get all the way up there yet!” Um, yes. Plus, plus, plus, plus, plus. The Bright Angel Creek pranced merrily over the rocks and dozens bats practiced their sonar between Sharon and me. I can say it’s 100% foolproof. The sky started to get light at the halfway point, (mile wise, that is) and my forehead at least was extremely glad to be rid of the elastic band of the headlamp.

By Cottonwood, the end of the next segment, I believe, we were starting to meet the North to South Rimmers and things got more interesting. Our pace also got a whole lot slower as we passed people, stared around, and most importantly started the uphill climb.

What followed next can be read just as easily by asking Meta AI for synonyms of dogged.

• Tenacious
• Relentless
• Resolute
• Determined
• Unwavering
• Stubborn
• Persistent
• Unshakeable
• Steadfast
• Unflagging
• Enduring
• Unrelenting
• Continuous
• Constant
• Persevering
• Gritty
• Plodding

---

I know it was beautiful, I know the weather was perfect, I know the clear blue sky and fall colors were breathtaking, but I know a few other things too. You can hurt all over, have blisters, foot cramps, a gallon of dust up your nose, feel full but still need to eat, begin to hate the taste of electrolytes and in general wonder how many years you have left on this earth, but still feel enormously lucky. Lucky because you have health, time, money, political freedom and a huge support group of friends and family that make this thing possible. Lucky because you have been able to watch the sunrise not once, but twice from the bottom of the Canyon. Lucky because you have a large pool of friends to stir and there’s always one or two ready to cast their lot in with yours for an adventure.

Five miles from the top I told God he’d have to help me out cause my determination tank was under 1/4. Images of spending my retirement right there seemed quite feasible. Nice folks to visit with, unmatched scenery and warm winters. I mean, what more could you want? But always we kept on. And on. Two steps on the exhale, two steps on the inhale. Distractions would come up that made time lighter, like the two older men who rounded a switchback, took a long look at me and cried in delight “Lizzy!, Its Lizzy, really it’s you! How ARE you!” “Yes, truly” reiterated man two, “Lizzy herself”. I hated to break it to them that I wasn’t actually the esteemed Lizzy, but not because I didn’t want to be! No indeed, I would have gladly been Lizzy. “Oh.” they said sadly. “Right. Lizzy is at work today”.

Another young guy took one look at my dress and gasped “what a beautiful dress! It’s exactly the one I was planning to wear today. Oh my goodness, I’m glad I didn’t” We agreed that would have been too, too awkward and passed on. Him down, me up.

A couple from Toronto kept us company for a while and found out they and Sharon shared childhood hometowns. An Indian dude kept us grinning by his cheerful singing to keep his mind off the torture, and we horrified another young man who was struggling to cope after only doing a short day hike part way down, then turning around to come back out. When he found out how far we had come, he was devastated. “Oh, my pounding heart feels like such a WIMP right now”. We commiserated, because which of us hasn’t felt all smug and exhausted on an intense hike, only to see that 90 year old couple toddle around a corner like they’re strolling through a city square. It’s slap maddening, if a little inspiring. I apologized that 3 middle aged women had had to catch him resting, and he seemed to accept. Honestly, it’s not how much you’re doing, it’s the fact that you are indeed doing that counts.

By the last mile or so I really had no more banter, greetings or pride left. I didn’t tried to straighten up and paste a pleasant look on when someone passed. In fact it got to where, if people were taking photos that you needed to stand aside for, you would ask if maybe they wanted to take a few more. Anything at all to keep standing still. We stood aside to let two slightly faster girls through, and they weren’t very impressed. “Do you want to pass” we asked? And they feebly said “no, we don’t but I guess we will”. Sisters in suffering, that.

A shy mile from the top is Coconino Overlook, which has a vista view across the Canyon to the South Rim. Sharon was nearly bowled over. She could not believe that she had truly just traversed that distance, and even I, who has seen it some several times was filled with incredible elation! It’s an almost surreal feeling, looking at that vast stretch of land and knowing that your own swollen legs have brought you through it. Or should I say your swollen legs, blistered feet, 7 liters of liquid and help from the Lord.

The trailhead was beautiful. Just beautiful. I was quite surprised there wasn’t a rousing cheer for us cause, well, you know. Why not? But instead there were a few rocks with exhausted puddles of people on them, a few tour guides, with coolers of beer for their hiking clients, and an old local man, whom I’m guessing gets his jollies out of watching pooped and/or foolish people.

We surfaced at 1:00pm, exactly 12 hours after we started. We had reservations on the Trans Canyon Shuttle to get us back around to the South Rim, and ultimately our cars and men, but that is tomorrow’s story. Now I must sleep.