4/20/2013. - Day 25 - A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.

4/20/2013. - Day 25 - A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step...

Down is optional; Up is mandatory.





I awake with a very cold nose and a very great desire to use the bathroom. It's approximately 2:30AM. Campfires are out, tents are zipped up, and the woods are silent and frosty. I have obviously locked myself in my vehicle to avoid being kidnapped, hacked into pieces and later dumped into the canyon. If I stretch and twist just right in my sleeping bag, I can reach the manual door lock on the back driver's side door. As I wriggle out of the bag, I pull up on the lock. I am not fully awake yet but I'm thinking I really need to use the bathroom and it's cold and I have absolutely no idea where the campsite restroom is, so the trees will have to do. As I grasp the door handle ready to silently sneak into the woods, I am blasted awake by my car alarm shrieking and every possible light and illuminable device on my truck flashing brightly. I am immediately awake, as is everyone within a mile radius of the honking and flashing. I can hear voices and tent zippers as the other inhabitants are jolted from their slumber. Of course, I am awake but not awake enough to remember where my key fob is that shuts the alarm off. After an agonizing thirty seconds of searching, I find the key fob and manage to shut down the noise. Apparently, if you lock the door with the fob and then fail to unlock it in the same fashion, the security system assumes you are an axe murderer and blasts a warning loud enough to wake the dead. Which I think I knew is awake life but not in semi asleep life. Obviously there is no way to sneak into the woods inconspicuously now, so I stuff myself back into my sleeping bag and pray no one slashes my tires for disturbing their sleep.

A few short hours later my eyes open again, this time to sunlight and the sound of campers going about their morning activities. Tent zippers are zipping open and shut, campfires are cooking breakfast, items are being folded and packed away.  I remember the horror of several hours ago and pray everyone else was as disoriented as me and that they won't remember what happened, or will at least not be able to identify the source of the disruption. I procure some breakfast from the food stores in my truck, and then begin the drive out of the campground, hoping to pass a rest area along the way.

Thankfully there is a facility near the entrance to the camp where I can also wash my face. I stop at the office to pay the night's fee and get directions to the visitor center where I will be leaving the pickup for the next couple days.  At the visitor's center, they direct me to the area where the shuttle will collect me, indicate that I may leave the pickup in the parking lot, and present me with "the stuff" as the ranger calls it, which consists of printed media and handouts and maps of the canyon. The ranger also indicates that normal time to get down to Phantom Ranch, the base of the canyon where I will sleep tonight, is about 4-6 hours. I am to take the South Kaibab Trail down, and come up the Bright Angel Trail. It will be approximately 6.3 miles down. I am to bring lots of water.

I return to the pickup to assess my backpack. I have stashed a change of clothes, a tiny bottle of shampoo, a toothbrush, comb, extra socks, and of course, a bit of makeup. I have no idea what awaits me but if my future husband is down there, I might meet him looking like a caveman but at least I will be able to transform myself into somewhat of a lady. One must always be ready for their date with destiny.

Next I take a look into the supplies I purchased last night. Lots of snacks and fluids. As I start to pack  my bag, it is obvious that all this food and beverage weight will be difficult to shoulder for 4-6 hours. I again go through everything in the bag and take out a few items before deciding that even though I can't stuff a single thing more into the pack, I cannot live without any of the items currently contained inside. With that, I leave my gypsy wagon in the parking lot and start for the shuttle station. All aboard for the hike of your life!

About a half mile in.

The shuttle comes and fills with other eager tourists and hikers. We arrive at the trail head and I waste no time looking over the rim to see what my day holds. I have seen the rim before, and I have no time for oohing and ahhing over it today. It's already 12:30PM and if it actually takes 6 hours to get to the bottom I've got to get moving to avoid night time hiking.

First stop from above.

The South Kaibab is extremely steep, very narrow, and appears somewhat unsafe. Because it has not been flattened and widened and tinkered with, it provides the most unobstructed views of the canyon. Of course this coincides with it having steep drop offs to the sides, and areas where the path narrows to just a few feet, which is a bit unnerving.







The Kaibab is fairly busy. I am moving quickly and passing most of the other hikers going down. A couple miles in I come to the first rest stop. There are a dozen mules tied up to the hitching post as their riders allow the steeds a brief reprieve. I take the opportunity to stop for some water and sustenance and a short rest. The mules soon depart with the riders and head up. I continue down, winding through the rough terrain and uneven paths that lead to the bottom.

Trail running along the top of the cliffs.

First views of the Colorado

About 3 1/2 miles in, I can barely make out the murky green blue line below which must be the mighty Colorado. I continue my descent, my toes pressing the front of my shoes and my backpack pushing  me down further into the canyon. The wind rushes around me on the trail and I have to be careful not to be caught off guard by the gusts that rush at me unexpectedly, lest I be blown over the side and reach the bottom sooner than expected.

Another mile or so down and my feet are starting to ache. I am terrified of getting blisters at this stage of the game because tomorrow's hike UP is sure to be worse. Signs at the next rest stop warn, "Down is optional, Up is mandatory." Even going down, I feel pain in my tired legs. I feel like stopping to rest or drink is an annoyance that is just going to delay me. I press on.

Like this, but doing DOWN. 

At 6 miles down I can clearly see the river rushing below me and all I want to do is jump in it. Several times on the way down it has crossed my mind to just throw my pack over the cliff and retrieve it at the bottom. How are a change of clothes and a couple bottles of Powerade SO HEAVY? The steep grade makes me feel like I am running straight down the side of a skyscraper as my toes pound into the front of my shoes step after step.

The switchbacks continue as I go down. Looking at these photos it's crazy to see all the ways the trail bends and turns and winds through the canyon.


Below me is a large metal suspension bridge that will take me across the Colorado. They have cut a hole in the rock to get through to the other side of the trail, and the coolness inside the cave is welcome as I approach the bridge.


The bridge itself is only about 4 ft wide, with wire sides allowing a full view of the river. As I cross, I check my GPS: 6.3 miles. There are no buildings in sight, no sign of the existence of Phantom Ranch.









I'm in a bit of a panic. It's that horrifying moment where you think you are done and then it becomes obvious you are in fact NOT done. I continue along the trail which has now turned to heavy sand that entraps my tired feet and slows them to an unbearable pace. I am still passing other hikers but now my feelings of be being hungry, tired, and irritable are being exacerbated by the thought that there will never be an end to this trudging through the heavy sands of a bottomless canyon. I remain pleasant and continue my habit of greeting everyone I pass with a smile. I try to keep my mind focused on the fact that there must be a stopping point near.

Finally after a 1/2 mile or so, signs appear notifying me that Phantom Ranch is close. I start to see cabins and search for the main building. I pass a pen of grazing mules, and a few more corrals and cabins before I spot the welcome center.  I feel like I am crossing into the promised land.

I enter into the cool climate controlled building, grab the nearest chair, dump my pack into the next chair, remove my shoes, and lay my head on the table. This scene remains unchanged for the next twenty minutes of heavy breathing and sweating. I resemble a tired dog lying on the floor. My tongue may be out trying to pant away my exhaustion.

When I zoomed in on this, I could see all the
switch backs in the trail. And it was obvious
that many more than 679 calories were burned.

Finally I am able to sit up, take stock of my surroundings, and breathe normally.  Upon checking the clock on the wall, I remember to grab my iPhone and check the GPS. It's 3:00PM. Subtract from the time on the GPS the twenty minutes of lifeless exhaustion I wasted upon arriving, I made it top to bottom in about 2 1/2 hours. The total distance looks to be about 8 miles. Not bad.

I approach the counter to check in for the night stay I have booked in the dorm, and collect my pre ordered lunch. I carry everything back to the table as a man enters the building and abruptly asks if I have seen any others who "look like him." By "look like him" I believe he meant other sweaty and dusty humans with dual beverage cans strapped to their heads. I answer, "No, I have not. It appears they have abandoned you." He asks if he can sit down and I motion towards the empty seat across from me. I learn he is an "ulta runner," some form of super athlete that thrives on running extreme distances. Today he explains, as he cracks a beer, there are an abundance of said ultra runners in the canyon, starting at the top of the south rim, running to the bottom and then running up the north rim, coming back down, and then running back up to the top of the south rim again. Running. The whole way. I want to throw up thinking about it. I decide he is certifiably insane.

We chat a bit  as he takes a handful of sips from his beer, and then Mr. Ultra Runner takes off again to run back up the canyon. Good for him. I'm so tired that even finishing my lunch seems impossible. After I manage to get most of it down and feel that I can at least make my way to the women's dorm, I approach the counter again and ask for directions to the dorm.  I follow the trail to the dorm and find my place there. The food must be revitalizing me and I am now interested in walking back down to the river.

It is approximately 1 1/2 miles to the river and somehow I manage it on my battered feet. The water in the Colorado is murky and freezing and this strikes me as actually being a good thing because I can soak my aching self in it and hopefully prevent the majority of the soreness from setting in. A natural ice bath.

Succulents along the trail between
Phantom Ranch and the Colorado River. 

After a few minutes, I discover it's actually beyond my tolerance to immerse more than a couple of my toes in the water, which is still not a complete waste because my feet are completely destroyed and the cold soak likely has great benefit. The river runs the length of the camp and all through Phantom Ranch, narrowing by the cabins. I'm hoping that if I hike back towards the dorm, the narrower creek area temperature is more tolerable.

Upon returning to the dorms, I can see a trail to the water with a sitting area. This looks promising. As I approach the clearing, I notice there is already an established inhabitant, a man wearing swim shorts rinsing out clothing items in the stream. This is necessary because every article of clothing you come down in is covered in dust and dirt and I actually just finished washing out my shoes. I think they were neon pink when I started but now they are more of a dusty red. Bummer.

I start down towards the creek and the man, and comment that he has found the best spot and one of the only areas that allows direct access to the creek. We make small talk and I explain my mission to sit in the creek so that my sore joints can experience some cold therapy. "Kyle" joins me in the creek as we both have to climb out of this pit tomorrow and would like to do it in somewhat decent shape.

Kyle is living in Washington, DC finishing up coursework and then moving onto his medical residency which will be in San Francisco. He notices a huge bruise on my knee and inquires about the injury. I share some about my trip and have to divulge the part where I fell into the tide pool, thus acquiring the bruise. I am slightly jealous of his upcoming move to CA and share my love of the area, specifically San Diego. Kyle also aspires to get to San Diego ultimately and we discuss strategic plans to get there. Kyle is further along in his plans as he is already at a point where he will soon be in California. I am living out of my truck.

Ammo boxes to keep out the wildlife. 

We are sufficiently frozen after a long soak in the freezing water, and depart for warm showers. I'm going to need about an hour in some hot water to restore my normal body temperature. Luckily we have warm showers in the dorms.

I make friends with some of the other gals in the dorm and we explore the grounds and then later attend the ranger program at night. This is basically the only activity in the evening, and afterwards everyone goes to the main building to play cards. I pass Kyle coming out as I enter the building and offer a quick greeting. Aside from the card players, everyone seems pretty anxious to get to sleep and rest up for the big hike out tomorrow. Walking back to the dorm, the night is still and warm and the stars are beautiful from inside the depths of the rock walls. I pause outside the dorm to take it all in for a few moments and inhale the fresh air and beauty, before retiring to my dorm to prepare for tomorrow's journey.