This was not the typical spring break you have in mind. No “Girls Gone Wild” scenes on this trip. Then again, no one really wants to flash others when they are carrying 50 lbs. of weight on their back! This trip was to the Grand Canyon: a five-day, bring-all-you-need-to-survive backpacking adventure down into the bowels of the upside down mountain. It was three of us: Nora, my better half, Erin, Nora’s co-worker who actually grew up in the Grand Canyon (her parents work for the Parks Service), and myself, Peter, you can call me.
DAY 1
We began our hike from the South Rim on the South Kaibab Trail (elev. 7,260 ft) at 9:45AM. I was entertained the entire trip that they named this trail after a food that you find on a skewer. I was so entertained by it that I never did find out how to pronounce it correctly. Actually, it is a Paiute (early settlers) word which means “mountain lying down.” They liked meats on skewers!
Nora and Erin still looking happy
The trail had snow accumulation and was icy the first mile or so, but as we descended, the ice vanished and the temperature rose as, too, did the weight on my pack seem to rise. The 50 lbs. pack began to feel like a monkey on my back, a big monkey, at that, so much weight for such a light person (I weight about 130). I would have preferred to carry very little and be running, but they tell me I need food for 5 days. Fair enough.
This was the first time that I wore my Roclite 295’s for an extended period of time. The grip was great on the steep descents and on the ice, dirt and rocks alike. Nora, Erin and I were discussing footwear before we left and they we going to wear the bigger, more “supportive” hiking-type shoes with bulkier grip to them. Since I was only taking one pair of shoes for long hours of hiking and, hopefully, lots of running, I needed it all: comfort, traction and light-weight. Since this shoe can be used as a racing shoe, I was worried that they would not hold up to all the abuse I had in store for them. Time would tell.
My pack seemed to be getting heavier and heavier on the 7.5 mile descent to Phantom Ranch, the bottom of the Canyon, and my legs began to quiver after a few hours. It felt like my shoulders were being tenderized by the straps of my pack. I have never done this type of hiking before with lots of weight, long periods of time, carrying everything you need for the entire time, so it was new experience for me, so, all I could think was “I hate you weight!”
The views of the South Rim and looking down into the Canyon, where the Colorado River has cut a deep wound into the floor, were spectacular. One’s depth perception does not function properly in the Grand Canyon. The depth and scale that your mind calculates is thrown off when you see a bird that looks like a speck of pepper hovering a quarter of the distance as the wall of the canyon you are sizing up. An awe-inspiring place, to say the least.
“Shit, that’s a big hole!”
At one point we passed an Amish family (Erin claims they were Mennonites, but I saw one of those fire places they are so popular for and some wicker furniture sticking out of their packs, definitely Amish!). It was impressive, in their long dresses, head coverings and long beards (just on the father, actually). It made me stop complaining internally to myself, if all 18 of them could do it, I should have no problem doing it.
As we came around the corner of a high trail, a view of Phantom Ranch came into view—it looked like an oasis in an ant farm. We were still really high up with two miles to go, that meant steepness. Then the churning waters of the Colorado River came into view and Phantom Ranch was growing in size. We crossed the River via the suspension bridge and were glad to be at the Ranch 6 hours after starting. Elevation, 2,400 ft. I was glad to get that heavy, miserable pack off my back. I know why they call it Phantom Ranch now: when you take your pack off, it still feels like you are carrying it—hence, Phantom.
We walked around the Ranger Station and Cantina, where they served snacks, refreshments and shirts commemorating your agonizing walk down into the Canyon for a mere $30. The price of things was like being at a professional sporting event. $5.25 for a can of Tecate! Ouch! I guess if everything is brought down by pack mules, they have to reward them by feeding them some top quality, gold-lined grass! Lucky for me, I snuck a bottle of Nimbus Brewing Company Pale Ale, a local Arizona beer, into my pack. Take THAT overpriced Cantina! All that pain I felt while carrying my pack down would be worth it when I cracked open that beer!
I began to feel very faint and queasy and still had not run yet. Note to self: Run before you hike for 6 hours next time! Wearily, I found some fresh socks and laced up my 295’s and undressed as much as possible. All I really needed was shorts since it was about 80 degrees down there, like being in So Cal again! Erin made me promise to take a headlamp and a long sleeve in case I got lost in the Canyon. I headed north on the North Kaibab Trail towards the North Rim and my legs felt surprisingly good; the quads were a little jelloy, but my hiking legs were obviously separate from my running legs. I can across Nora and Erin, who went on ahead of me to take a walk. The sound of the rushing water was so deafening that I they did not hear me approach. I made a snorting wild boar noise and Nora pooped her pants, I think. It was her screaming that startled Erin, not me sneaking up on them. Nora doesn’t like being spooked like that and had some choice words for me. I was laughing the next 10 minutes of the run and likewise almost pooped in my pants. The sound of the rushing water must have drowned out the pain because I felt fine.
The Bright Angel Canyon offered some spectacular views along the Bright Angel Creek. I crossed four bridges in this tight crevasse of a canyon, then emerged into a colorful wide-open canyon containing towering agave plants, cacti and a desert landscape. I had to play a game with myself to get through the run if I planned on running 2 hours: counting down the time until I turned around. Then again on the way back. 30:42 until I turn back. 27:13 now. OK, 24:50. 19:14. Only 16:32 to go now. Oh, look at the pretty waterfall! I saw Ribbon Falls from a distance and had to do a rocky climb, 14:07. I thought this would be comfortable 2 hours, 9:02, not so, 4:52. I almost reached the Cottonwood campground 7.5 miles away after I overshot an hour by 21 seconds. Halfway there, that wasn’t so bad. Just as I turned back, my legs told me they didn’t like the downhill, as slight as it was. I knew it would be a long hour, 58:18. Had a hot spot under my big toe, my quads felt like aspic and my hip flexors were highly tense. I had this reoccurring idea that I was acquiring a femoral stress fracture. 52:45. The run back was a struggle; where is the rushing water pain-drowner, I wondered. 48:19, 46:11, it really sucks when you look at your watch after only two minutes, 41:01, 36:55, 32:09…..I might as well run 2 more minutes to hit 2 hours, I thought, as every compulsive runner would! People looked at me like I was a runner with a hand growing out of my ass as I entered Phantom Ranch. I was practically naked, so maybe that was why.
Now to get rid of some of that weight in my pack, FOOD! I usually want a beer after a run, but not after a 6 hour hike and a 2 hour run. Two sips and I would be blotto. We set up our camp, made whole wheat pasta, dehydrated carrots and sautéed squash for dinner. The lemon pepper made it Five-Star! The icing of the legs in the creek was much needed. Putting on a down jacket really helps with coldness factor. It may look a little silly, but it helps. We went to the Cantina for one of those expensive, ritualistic cans of Tecate…and it did the trick, I was ready for bed! I have to admit, it was good. Like a cold, carbonated apple juice. At least I was getting to be early tonight. Well, not before binge eating a quarter jar of peanut butter with pretzels and fending off the ring-tailed weasel-looking things.
22.5 miles total today!
DAY 2
Activity in the camp began at 6am and the sound of people woke me up. If this happened back at home I would be a hot little potato, but the natural bio-rhythms of us humans prevails. It is rather enjoyable to wake up when the sun is rising. Geese must get hot covered in all those feathers because I was sweating in the down sleeping bag! We had our breakfast of whole wheat flour tortillas, peanut butter and dried fruit. “Where did all the peanut butter go!!??” It was those damned ring-tailed thingies, I replied.
We packed up and made our way to the Clear Creek Trail Head, a 9.5-mile trek to the bare-bones campground alongside, well, Clear Creek. It was a steep climb the first .75 of a mile. Finally, the cardiovascular system was put to work. Nora’s legs were sore and deteriorated as we progressed on the trail. She was having doubts about continuing on the last 2 hours. Attempting to prod her with an agave sprout would have probably just make the situation worse, so we just encouraged her.
The views were spectacular, like something out of a detailed painting. It didn’t look real. As the sun moved across it’s arc in the sky, the colors changed and the orange and reds turned to crimsons and purples. The landscape was covered with low brush, yucca, cacti and agave plants, most with huge, up to 20 ft., joust-like flower spikes reaching into the sky. They bloom after approximately 10 years and then die from the effort of pushing up a bloom 3 inches a day. It is said you can watch the flower spike grow if you watch it for a while. We had no time for that, we kept moving.
The rule was: No hiking and looking, if you want to look, you have to stop. I broke that rule a few times but didn’t fall over the edge of a cliff. Close a few times, though. Erin says to me at the end of the trip, “I saw you brake the rule about hiking and looking.” My reply, “How do you know I was breaking the rule? That means you were breaking the rule, too!” She couldn’t argue.
The last mile of the steep descent into Clear Creek was like walking on the moon, a skree hill of fine red rocks. The geology is quite fantastic in the Grand Canyon, I’m sure if you wanted to hear all about it, Inov-8 teammate Paul Low would be eager to tell you, as he is a geologist and has been there to study the area. The campsite just had smooth areas to set up tents in, but we were amazed to see a toilet, or, rather, a bin with a seat on it and walls on the sides and back, but not on the front. It had a spectacular view of the moonscape and canyon in the distance, no view obstruction. It worked both ways.
We arrived at 2:30 p.m., now it was time to run. I needed a rest first. I was acquiring some blisters on my toes. Nora was adamantly against me running up the Mars-scape we just came down, she thought for sure I would fall down the canyon or get killed. We live at the base of Pikes Peak and I run those trails on a daily basis…and now she worries! She was very emotional; it had been a long day for her.
I was surprised how good the body felt after almost 10 miles of hiking, along with a gorilla on my back. I promised Nora I would be back in 75 min. The run went really well and I was really impressed with the Roclite 295’s, they were holding up an not feeling like the lightweight training/racing shoes they are made out to be. I did an out and back run and waved to Nora and Erin (at 75 min) 1,000 feet below and I descended the Mars-scape. I’m glad I got the run in and treated my legs to an ice bath in the creek. We had our Tasty Bites dinner and sat as the night brought in the stars and a bright moon. Nora and Erin were out by 8:30 p.m. and I fell asleep to the sound of the rushing water.
19.5 mile for the day.
DAY 3
Sorry this is so long, if you have read this to this point, you are a trooper. Day 3 is pretty uneventful, other than the baby rattle snake and the waterfall we were unable to find. Slept well and long. I awoke at sunrise and no one was up, so I went back to sleep until about 8:30 a.m. We were in this tent for 12 hours straight! Wow! You would think we were potheads or something! It was nice to not have to get up and be on the move. It was our rest day since we were staying at Clear Creek for another night. So, pretty much, we were bums for the morning, eating breakfast, sipping tea, taking 15 min to change a shirt. Erin observed that is takes so much longer to do normal functions, like change clothes or get out of your sleeping bag, when the temperature is low.
It was nice to just sit back and rest the legs. The soreness in my legs appeared in certain areas: the hips, glutes, quads, pretty much everywhere, however, I was not nearly as bad at Nora and Erin. They were maneuvering around like zombies with Cerebral Palsy, especially Nora, worse than a penguin! It was pretty comical. If either of them sat down, it was a long chore for them to get back up again. When I did finally get up in the morning, after 12 hours in the tent, I had a searing pain in my lower back/kidney region. I felt like that guy from that movie ‘The Passion of the Christ’…Jesus, I guess his name was (Erin would like that one, she’s Jewish!).
We finally mobilized after 1 p.m. and did a day hike up Clear Creek into Ariel Canyon, to find a waterfall, which we never did find. The fountain of youth is still undiscovered. We did some rough bushwhacking at times. Although no waterfall was discovered, we did cross a boulder field, see a baby rattle snake, a frog, lizards, plants ranging from desert to tropical reeds, and discover a new plant growing on a cliff wall that looked strikingly like broccoli. I named it rockoli.
I really had no motivation to run, it was hot and I was sunburned and had way too much time on my hands. I forced myself to lace up the 295’s and get back up that one trail that existed from Clear Creek, the Red Wall of Mars. I ran past a couple of college-aged hikers and told them they had about 2 miles to go until the campground. They were a bit shocked to see me running past them in the middle of nowhere. I ran out about 50 min to the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle rock (no joke, it looked just like the avitar of a TMNT!) and back, not feeling to good. I made it back in one piece with a few cacti spikes in my foot.
We had our dinner of dried re-fried beans, dehydrated sweet potatoes, tortillas and cheese, a true gourmet backcountry meal! It got pretty cold and took us long periods of time to function again. By 8 p.m. it was dark and time for bed. A pretty restful day, only 17.5 miles today.
This trail resembles the Inov-8 foot...coincidence!?
DAY 4
Erin was up by 6:30 a.m. but I really didn’t want to get up. I had recollections of my mother trying to get me out of bed when I was in elementary school, “can’t you just leave me along, mom!?” It was another long day, so we had to get started early; plus, it took us a long time to do small tasks like change pants and shirts. Packed up our tent and mummy bags, ate our oatmeal and headed back up the Mars terrain. It was a beautiful morning, the sun was shining and there was still that briskness in the air. The best part…the packs were getting lighter! We were eating our way through the weight.
The legs were doing much better (Nora’s legs, more specifically) after a days rest at Clear Creek and the 9.5-mile hike was rather enjoyable. We were moving at a fast pace and trying to put distance on the ‘packers behind us. “There’s the Ninja Turtle rock!” I went on ahead the last couple of miles to secure a campsite the Bright Angel Campground. I snuck under 4 hours for the 9.5-mile hike back.
The bagged tuna and tortillas with cheese were a good source of refueling and making people gag when they are on the trail behind you. I attempted to summons the will to run after a long hike. The legs were tired but I hoped a little rest before slipping on the Roclite 295’s (like Cinderella did in that story) for a run would do the trick. This was the last day I would be running “in” the Canyon, so I had to make it epic (or just survive, at the least).
Nora became nervous again as I contemplated runs up to one of the rims. She must know how to read minds because I didn’t disclose this information. Maybe it was the statement “I’ll be gone up to 3 hours.” I finally got going at 4 p.m., crossed the Colorado River to the South Kaibab Trail, connected to the River Trail, where the wind was gale force and the ground was sandy like a beach, at points—not cool only 20 min into a long run. I hit the Bright Angel Trail and turned towards the South Rim and began the long ascent. I passed people who started at me like I was crazy to be running (it must have been that hand again!). At one point two college-aged females stared at me as I ran by them and said “are you coming from the bottom!!!?” I replied “yes” and looked back a few seconds later to see them gawking at me when I added “I guess Phantom Ranch is the bottom, right?” Again, I was practically naked, only running shorts, with no water, so that may have been the reason for the odd looks. I also passed a guy who had a 2-year old child on a harness on his back. That’s worse than carrying food: squirmy weight, plus you need to feed it and let change its poopy diapers.
After a good steady climb, filled with stream crossings and switchbacks, I reached the “.3 to Indian Gardens” sign and decided I’d take the Tonto Trail and loop back down to the bottom. I figured this stretch of corridor trail was about 5 miles, according to a map, but it could have been longer, it was difficult to tell. This trail is a dangerous one: rocky single-track, no facilities. It’s the longest continuous stretch of trail in the Grand Canyon, running approximately 70 miles from Red Canyon/New Hance Trail to its western terminus at Elves Chasm near the Royal Arch Route. A sad occurrence happened in 2004 when Margaret Bradely, a former Greater Boston Track Club teammate of Invo-8 team member Ben Nephew and 30th place finisher at the Boston Marathon, attempted a long run during the hot summer months and her body was later found along the a drainage on the Tonto trail (http://www.nps.gov/archive/grca/media/2004/14jul04.htm). It made me cautious and respect the Canyon.
After an hour and a half my legs began to fatigue and the three honey packets I had were already consumed, I began to worry how long the trail really was. I was also unsure of the terrain, so I didn’t know what I was getting myself into. It was rocky and irritating but somewhat runable the first few minutes and later became smoother and less rocky. I did come across a pile of Mike an Ike’s that some hiker has spilled and thought “if I need some energy, I could always eat those…..on second thought, I avoid the artificial coloring.” My toes were catching rocks and I kept stumbling, furthering my fatigue. I did see a couple of people illegally camped in a drainage runoff, so there were people near if I needed them. I kept breaking the main rule while running along this trail, the views were amazing, sheer cliffs above and below me. I could see where the snow melt carved thin runoff points in the cliffs. This was the most beautiful trail during my time in the Canyon, I must say. It was like giants looming above and dropping off below me; hell below, clouds above.
After 45 minutes on the trail I popped out onto the Tipoff point and let out a celebratory yell as I had reached it. Now I began to worry that my run would be too short—never satisfied. It was all downhill from here, a 1,600-foot drop in about 2 miles on the South Kaibab Trail. The knees and quads hated me for this and the blustery winds almost blew me off the cliffs. I crossed the bridge over the Colorado River, my beat up legs couldn’t wait get back. An emotional and physically demanding run. I put on my down jacket and iced my legs in the cold creek. That bottle of Nimbus Pale Ale I had been saving was broken out to celebrate the 32.5 miles of hiking and 50+miles of running in the past 4 days.
After learning about the 22 species of bats within the Canyon (one specie that actually feeds on scorpions) we rendezvoused at the Cantina and for a Tecate and to reflect and recollect our thoughts from the trip. A great quote was scribed on the chalk board in the Cantina which read, “Anywhere is walking distance if you have the time.” I revised it in my head: “Anywhere is running distance if you want to save time.” 22.5 miles on the day.
DAY 5
I thought it would be a restful night, but not after the gale force winds damn near picked up our tent and placed it in the creek. The wind was so strong that we had a layer of dust covering us and everything else in the morning. I wanted to sleep but we had to get a start on the exodus of the Canyon. We bid farewell the Bright Angel Campground and Phantom Ranch and began the slow ascent to the South Rim.
The wind whipped up sand into our faces and the clouds rolled in and brought rain as we cleared the trail a few times for the pack mules bringing supplies and the backpacks of the lazy down to the bottom. “It wasn’t supposed to rain!” the stereotypical mule driver cursed as he passed us. We put our cardiovascular systems into use and we produced so much heat that it was difficult to decide whether to keep our jackets on or take them off. I felt like I was going through menopause.
We passed the Tonto Trail and I gave a nod, then we stopped at Indian Gardens for a snack, attempting to eat everything we had left. The plump squirrels were loitering around waiting for us to drop some food. Somehow, one of those fat little rodents made off with a whole apple in its mouth as Erin lamented, “I carried that apple around for five days and it gets stolen by a squirrel.” So, I hop the bench and up onto the wall and chase that little chunky bastard down, chucking my gloves and almost nailing it. It drops the apple and gets the hell out of Dodge. I am victorious! I got the apple back…and we savored it. I probably have rabies now, but it was worth it based on principle.
With a little over 4.5 miles to go, I began pushing the pace challenged anyone that dared to hike fast. After the 3 Mile Resthouse, I was truckin’. If I didn’t have a pack, I would have been running. There were some interesting characters coming down the trail, one guy in flip-flops. “Just wait until you have to come back up, dude!” Obviously he doesn’t know about the rocky switchbacks! I passed two teenagers, probably high-school aged, who were laying down on some rocks and they latched on behind me and were on my ass for about a mile or more. I kept increasing the pace but they stayed right with me. It was as if I was in a race, a bit exciting. I eventually dropped them and continued on with the fast pace. The grade was steep and the switchbacks seemed to be never-ending. The final 3 miles ascended about 2,000 feet. The last mile, which felt like the steepest, I covered in 39 min. and my final time was 3 hours and 59 minutes. I arrived to beautiful weather at the South Rim and lots of people milling around. Nora followed a couple of minutes later. Impressive, considering she looked like she was walking on stilts a few days ago and her bothersome IT band was pretty bad. When Erin arrived we all posed for our successful trip picture in front of the Bright Angel Trailhead sign and were happy to be back in the real world. Mission accomplished! We celebrated with warm showers and by visiting a few breweries in Flagstaff and drinking good beer.
The Roclite 295’s were dirty and beaten from almost 100 miles in 5 days, but performed like a charm.
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