24 Hours in the Canyon

"Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil.: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me." -Psalm 23:4

     Saturday October 20th, 2012 4am
 I am standing at the Bright Angel trail head on the South Rim of the Grand Canyon.  I am freezing.  All night I had tossed and turned chilled to the bone and unable to warm my feet.  I had not gotten enough sleep, but here I stood with my group of new friends. (one old friend who had just introduced me to his extended family yesterday)  They are all ultra runners and have done this trek many times.  They will run from the south rim to the north rim and back again in a matter of 12-16 hours.  I have hiked the canyon from rim to rim before, but I am not a runner I am a backpacker.  I have completed the 23. something miles in three days time.  Never have I attempted hiking the entire thing back and forth (over 46miles) in one shot.  I am a bundle of frozen nerves and excitement as we snap a group photo and head down the side of the canyon.  I know, being the only hiker in the group, I will take much longer to make the journey and therefore for the majority of my day I will be hiking alone.  Strangely I am looking forward to the solitude.  I think to myself, "Well Lord, it's just you me and this beautiful creation of yours all day long."  The unending expanse of stars seem to twinkle to me in response as I carefully make my way down the switchbacks in the darkness.  I can see the headlamps of my group winding quickly down the trail, but I feel no rush as I have determined to make this as enjoyable a journey as possible.  "This is not about speed.", I think to myself, "This is just about making it across and back alive and sharing the time with God.  No distractions.".

I couldn't help but glance out at the canyon now and again.  The dark outline of the canyon walls set against a starry backdrop was too beautiful to ignore.  As I turned on my ipod and settled into the steady measure of walking I heard what sounded like the low growl of a cat. Terrified I yanked out my ear buds and spun around searching everywhere with my light and listening in the stillness for any indication of what made the sound.  After a few moments of perfect silence I laughed at myself, "Laura calm down, there are no mountain lions or large cats in the canyon. You're too jumpy."  I put my ear buds back in and continued down the trail.  A few moments later the canyon behind me was lit up with a brilliant light.  I thought someone on the trail below was shining a spotlight up at me and spun to see where it had come from.  As I looked out I saw a line of glowing embers cut across the sky.  The tail of some comet or giant meteor glowed for almost a full minute.  I have never seen something so amazing.  As if a portion of the veil of heaven was torn and left a burning scar on the face of the sky.  I thought to myself, "This is going to be an awesome day!"

     5am
I had nearly caught up to two of the slower runners in my group (a mother and daughter pair).  They had taken a quick break which allowed for me to catch up.  I was one switchback away from them when I saw a headlamp quickly fly down the side of the canyon.  Next I heard the sounds of something falling against the rocks and underbrush. "Dear God", I prayed as I quickly sped my way to them,"Please keep her safe, don't let any harm come to her.".  I heard the girls mother yell her daughter's name with the sound of choked panic ready to burst out.  "I'm okay mom.", was the quiet reply.  The next couple minutes the three of us created a human chain.  Me anchored against a rock holding her mother's hand as she grabbed her daughter below and hoisted her back onto the trail.  She was shaken, but mostly unharmed.  Her head had hit against the tree which had stopped her descent further into the canyon and one of her legs was bruised up.  After taking a moment to catch our breath we started out again and within ten minutes they were flying down the trail several switchbacks ahead of me again. 

     5:30am
I began to see signs of what I had been expectantly waiting for, sunrise.  The sky turned a dark raspberry color first, then the color reflected off the canyon walls making them glow a deep fiery red.  The red glow turned to golden and slowly the shadows began lifting up off of every nook and cranny.  Slowly the crickets began to sing with the birds joining in not long after.  They were singing a song of the morning and alerting the earth to the dawning of a new day.  I cannot describe how amazing and invigorating it was to be there, essentially alone in the world and watching it wake up with the sun.  I love every sunrise, the hope that comes with a new day is always precious to me.  This one was perfectly breathtaking.  I walked into the first major resting place on the trail just as the sunrise reached its peak of glory.  As I refilled my water and ate my first snack I reveled in the opportunity to be right where I was experiencing this new day.  I thought to myself, "This moment in my life will never come again.", I just wanted to steep it like a tea bag staining the very walls of my memory. 

     7am
The sun was fully up and climbing as high as my hopes for the day.  My goal had been to make the trip across and back in about 18hrs and from the looks of things it was possible for me to do so.  As I headed into my second set of switchbacks that lead to the canyon floor I thought of the several religions who participate in great pilgrimages to draw closer to their god by taking a physically taxing journey toward a holy destination.  I couldn't help but draw parallels to my own walk.  No, I was not going toward any sacred destination, but would I not be pushing the limits of my physical ability and needing to draw strength from the Lord to complete this hike?  It's not as though I had not prepared for this trip.  I had been running and hiking for months now to build myself to a physical point where it was even a possibility to consider, but I was not foolish enough to think that so many miles across such rough terrain would be an easy feat for me.  I would not lie to myself and say I knew the mental and physical challenges I would be facing.  I had no clue.  Perhaps that was part of the draw of taking the trip in the first place.  To begin and finish a pilgrimage into my very heart and test who I was and just exactly where I placed my trust. 

     8:45am
Phantom Ranch is a beautiful location alongside the Colorado River.  It has a campsite and several cabins and is the only location in the entire canyon that can boast a small restaurant and store.  If you are craving any amenities of the 'real world' they can only be found at Phantom Ranch.  As I come into the first part of the ranch a small deer is feeding at the side of the trail.  I pull out my camera afraid it will run away, but it just watches as I approach.  I come within arms length of the creature and it just looks up at me with it's dark eyes as if asking me to pet it.  I am VERY tempted to reach my hand out to it, so awed at this awesome opportunity, then I see the mites around it's eyes and am reminded that wild deer are infested with all kinds of fleas and pestilence....it's probably better I just snap a photo and move on.  The store is of no interest to me, but I pause to use the restroom, refill my water and eat a peanut butter and jelly sandwich before moving on.  The rule for every backpacker is when you are stopped at a location to refuel, you do so, whether you think you need it or not.  Because you can never be sure of any water or restroom available further along the trail.  I am excited that I am making such great time.  Maybe I will even be able to finish in less than 18hrs.

     10am
I have quickly passed the two miles from Phantom Ranch through a beautiful canyon where the trail takes you along side a subsidiary of the Colorado River.  It is cool and inviting with the sounds of the rushing water echoing off the sides of the canyon walls.  My mood is good and I am making better time than I expected.  Then I come out of the small canyon and into the open floor of the Grand Canyon.  The sun is now high above me and every inch of shade is gone.  The trail becomes short bursts of uphill and down hill as I weave my way toward my next break before ascending the North Rim.  The heat is quickly sapping my energy and in the 6.6 miles between Phantom Ranch and Cottonwood Campground I have drunk all of my three liters of water.  The last 3 miles into Cottonwood seem to take forever and as I get to the water station I realize just how zapped I am for energy and that I am now behind schedule.  I eat a quick lunch and drink down a liter of water and electrolytes before moving on.

     11:45
I meet one of my group who is returning from the North Rim.  He tells me I am not far from the Caretaker's House (a cool and shady water station) and I am doing good.  I tell him I have calculated my time and think I will forge ahead, but tell everyone not to wait up for me because I probably won't be out of the canyon until 12 or 1am at the speed I am currently hiking.  He nods and continues on his way.  In the next few minutes I reach the Caretaker's House.  It is a beautiful spot nestled on the side of the canyon and I take a moment to soak in the beauty as I refill my water once again.  The design of the restrooms infuriate me.  I am forced to walk down from the trail to a platform then back up a flight of stairs to the restrooms.  "Seriously, I have to go down to go back up, then back down and up to the trail again?!"  I am sure whoever created this design was laughing the whole time.  Surely they would know what an imposition this is to people who are conserving every bit of energy for the trail!?  My irritation is short lived though.  Who can be irritated long when surrounded by such beauty?  Besides, I'm still making good time and I do not feel over exhausted at all.  I head back onto the trail, which from this point becomes a very steep winding ascent to the rim of the canyon.

     12:45
It has been a looong time since I hiked the North Kibab Trail, but I remember more trees and shade, where is the shade already?  The afternoon sun is fierce and combined with the steep ascent, narrow trail and slippery gravel it's  exhausting.  I feel like I should at least be half way up the side of this thing by now.  I meet another member of our group who tells me it's another 5 miles to the top.  I check my time and think, "Well that's not too bad, I should be able to make that in two to two and a half hours."  I give him the same information I gave the previous group member.  I am continuing up, but don't expect a quick return.  As I continue up the trail I notice the differences between this rim and the south rim.  Where the trail on the south side is mostly wide and compacted dirt with rocks and wooden steps holding a steady grade, this side is half as wide, more steep and in several locations carved directly out of the canyon wall.  Because of the design it is more slippery and for the most part does not have the switchbacks the South side has.  With switchbacks even if you stumble and fall you will most likely be stopped at the next trail making your fall only about 50ft or so.  Without switchbacks a fall could mean several hundred to thousand feet before you are stopped.  "Wow, I would not want to have to come down this thing in the dark.", I thought, "I sure am glad we started on the South side and not the North side.".

     2:45
I have now been hiking for ten hours and forty-five minutes.  My muscles feel good but I know I am getting tired.  While I eat my package of tuna and snacks I speak to a couple who have crossed rim to rim.  For a few minutes we discuss the trail and our various routes and I explain to them my dilemma. We are currently 1.7 miles from the North Rim trail head.  I know I can force myself to push through, but I also know it is almost 3pm and as soon as the sun begins to set it will set quickly.  No sun on the North Rim means temperatures dip very low and very fast at this time of year, plus it means the possibility of going down this more precarious trail alone and in the dark.  At my current speed it would take at least an hour to complete the trail times two for the return it means giving up what may possibly be the last two hours of daylight.  Everything in me wants to continue hiking and be able to say that I completed the entire thing...but wisdom is whispering in my ear telling me it's time to turn back.  The couple look as sad for me as I feel.  The wife says, "No you can't turn back.", but I see in her husband's eyes that he knows I should and is concerned for me.  "We have some extra food, will you take it?".  I had planned enough food for 18hrs, but the reality hits me that I will be out for much longer than that. "Yes, I'll take whatever you don't need."  He gives me a package of salted crackers and several fruit snacks.  "These are great for quick energy", he says as he hands them to me, "Be safe."  "Oh I will be fine.", I reply, but for the first time all day I feel the distance across the canyon and recognize the huge task that lies before me.  For the first time all day I feel alone.  What if something happens to me, who will know?  The group won't know something is wrong until morning and there is no way to reach any of them.  What will I do if something goes wrong?  "Laura, you are not alone.  You are never alone.  You are walking this canyon with it's creator remember?"  That single thought was enough to comfort me. "Lord", I asked as I began my descent, "Please bless me to stay strong mentally and physically.  Please help me to have light for as long as possible that I may get to the bottom without having to navigate in the dark."

     5:45
I cannot believe the light is still with me!  Usually it's pitch dark in the canyon by the time the sun crosses the edge of the rim, but that happened a half hour ago and there is still light enough to see without using my headlamp.  I am also amazed at how much ground I am covering, I am almost back to the small canyon with the river running through which means I only have about two miles till Phantom Ranch again.  Then it's only about ten miles to the top.  Maybe I will be able to do this thing in 20hrs.  My body does not feel overly exhausted and with the setting of the sun I am not zapped of strength from the heat.  I thank the Lord for the extended light and keep plugging along.

     7:45
I'm back at Phantom Ranch.  As I take a break to refuel I notice just how much my feet are pulsing.  I know there are blisters on each heel, I can feel them growing.  I consider peeling off my socks to see but realize if I know what they look like I will not be able to get my mind off the pain.  At my best time I still have six hours of walking ahead of me and I cannot focus on pain if I'm going to make myself keep going.  I look longingly at the cabins and campsites.  All I want to do is crawl into a bed and sleep for a year.  But sleep is not an option right now, only movement.  As I force myself to eat I chat with a middle aged woman who is waiting for her husband to use the telephone.  "You look like a day hiker.", she says.  I explain what I am doing and where I am going. "Oh honey", she says with deepest sympathy in her voice, "I am so sorry.  I think you are so very brave to do this by yourself.  I do not have that in me.  But, oh I hope you are okay."  I reassure her that, while I am tired my body feels strong and since I have no choice at this point I will push myself to do it.  I part with her well wishes on my ears and walk out of the campground yelling at myself for not turning back sooner in the day.  The ten miles ahead of me may as well have been ten thousand.  My mind was quickly feeling the exhaustion of nearly 16hrs hiking with only 10 minute breaks.  I knew there was no chance of solid sleep until I crested the top of the South Rim, but I also knew my body was nearing it's point of shutting down.  "Please Lord, can you please help me stay alert.  Keep rattlesnakes and scorpions and animals that would hurt me away and help me to keep moving."  A cool breeze kicked up and kissed my cheeks waking me from my semi stupor.  "Just keep walking.", I thought, "Just keep walking."

     9:45
I am moving slower from the mental toll of the day, but I am doing okay.  My body is holding up and I am going to push through to the top.  All at once I feel something pull/pop in my right calf.  I know my calf muscle has (at minimum) pulled very badly.  The pain is so instant and great I am afraid the muscle is partially torn. Though no one is near to hear me I cry out in pain as I slowly put weight down on it.  It is holding the weight of my body, but the pain is so intense I can hardly stand it.  I know I am near the first set of switchbacks and it is straight up from that point on for about 6 miles.  "Dear God", I cry "Please I need your help.  I don't know what just happened, but it's bad and if it gets worse I can't go on.  Please help it Lord.  Please help it somehow to heal enough to get me out.  I don't care if it hurts, but please make the pain bearable and help it to be strong enough to get me out of the canyon.".  "Just keep moving.", I thought, "Just keep moving.".  So move I did.  The first few minutes were very painful, but as I went on the pain calmed to a dull roar that I could ignore.  "Thank you God.", I whispered, "Thank you."

     10:45
I had begun the most gradual portion of the ascent.  There was a cliff on my left and a small creek (about 4-5ft wide) on my right.  The pain in my leg had become my new normal and I was back almost to my pre-injury pace. 
I heard a rustling in the bushes across the creek and thought I might catch a glimpse of some elk or deer.  I paused to look across the water and felt frozen cold with terror when I saw two huge glowing eyes meet mine.  Now, I am no wildlife buff, in fact I have only read a few Ranger Rick magazines in my lifetime, but I have had the pleasure of spotlighting for elk and deer at night and am pretty familiar with what their eyes look like when lit up at night.  These were no elk or deer eyes.  I instantly knew these were the eyes of some type of predator.  Afraid to know, but realizing I should be aware of what I might be up against I slowly scanned the area.  What I saw chilled me to the bone.  The perfectly formed six foot long body of a huge black cat. (when I looked it up online I am pretty sure it was a Panther, which are apparently quite common in the Grand Canyon)  I couldn't tell if it had treed an animal or was in the process of sharpening it's claws, but it was pushing down on a medium sized tree bending it to the ground.  "What do I do?  Oh Lord what can I do?  That thing is at best six feet away from me...they stalk their prey.  I have no way to protect myself.  Oh Please Lord help it not to pay attention to me, because I cannot fend that thing off."  It probably was only a matter of seconds, but it felt like I was frozen in that spot for an hour debating my options.  "Just keep walking.", I thought, "Just turn around and walk normally away.".  I tell you what, that is easier said than done.  But with the injury to my calf and the uphill grade I knew that was the only option I had before me.  Pray and keep walking.  I did pick up a sizable rock and carry it for awhile.  I don't know what I thought I was going to do with a rock against such an amazingly powerful creature, but it made me feel better anyway.  For several miles I turned terrified at every sound, sure it was just behind me waiting for the perfect moment to pounce.

     11:45
I am at the Hanging Gardens.  The last big resting area before the top of the canyon.  I have five miles left and my brain is so spent I can hardly stand it.  I refill my water, use the restroom where I throw on my warmer clothes. (The wind has picked up and the temperatures at the top of the rim are hovering around 30 degrees.  The closer I get the colder it will become.)  The last twenty minutes I have been fighting mental fatigue and begun to stumble and loose my balance on the trail.  As I eat a snack and take my last ibuprofen I debate the pros and cons of a nap.  If I take a small nap it may help me be alert enough to continue on, but if I rest too long my muscles will seize up and I will be unable to climb out at all.  I realize I cannot begin the final switchbacks with poor balance, that is a perfect recipe for falling off the side of the canyon.  So I say a prayer that just 15 minutes will help me be alert enough mentally to safely continue, but not be so much time that my muscles seize up on me.  I prop my feet up on my Camelback and set my alarm.  Time goes by too quickly, but I feel much more alert and though still tired able to continue on.

     1am
I am now on a steady ascent through switchbacks.  My nap has completely worn off and I am fighting through muscle fatigue and a cloud of mental exhaustion.  I force myself to go two switchbacks before stopping. As I go I chant to myself, "Just-keep-walk-ing-move-your-feet-and-keep-on-breath-ing-you-can-do-this."  When I allow myself to stop, I slowly tell myself to calm my breathing,  bring down my heartbeat and think.  When I calm myself down I pray God bless me with clarity of thought and endurance to keep going.  In the moments when I am closest to fading a cold breeze blows through waking me or I hear a sound that startles me and brings me to complete alertness.  Each time I know it is a blessing and quietly thank Him.

     2am
I can tell I am within 3miles or so of the rim because the Pinon pine trees are now dotting the landscape and the breeze has turned quite cold.  It's cold enough now that when I stop for any amount of time my sweat quickly dries and I begin to shiver.  I have to keep moving just to stay warm.  About a mile back I foolishly stepped in a mud puddle and followed it up by tripping over a rock.  As a consequence there was a huge pain on one of my toes of my left foot.  It felt like the toenail had ripped right off the toe and the water and dirt were rubbing into the wound.  "Ignore it", I thought "There is nothing you can do about it right now anyway.  Just ignore the pain and keep moving."  I fight myself around one more switchback and realize I have become cloudy enough that I am starting to lose balance again.  At the next rocky outcropping I scan for any snakes, scorpions or spiders and sit down.  It is time for another nap.  I set my alarm and turn off my headlamp.  The stars quickly take the place of my lamp and light up a brilliant night sky.  I see the big dipper constellation clearer than I have ever seen it, almost like it's highlighted shinning even brighter than the other stars just so I can pick it out.  I think of the first time my mother taught me about the constellations and even in my exhausted stupor I am amazed a the wonder and beauty of the world.  I sleep for only eight minutes,  I am too exposed and the cold wind wakes me.  It is enough to keep me going.

     2:30am
I come to a secluded rock outcropping that is protected by the wind and on less of an incline than the last spot.  I scan for any 'natives' hiding in the nooks and cranny's of the rocks and settle myself in.  I know I am within a couple miles of the top, but I am too exhausted to push through without a good solid 15 minute rest.  I set my alarm and quickly fall into a profoundly deep sleep.  When my alarm wakes me I feel refreshed and ready to continue on.

     4am
I come to a rock formation I recognize, I know I am within a mile of the trail head and I am elated.  As I come around a corner I see the lights of the hotel at the South Rim and my spirits are lifted nearly to the crest of the canyon itself.  "You've got this Gill. You're almost there.", I whisper to myself with a smile.  While I look longingly at the lights I see two headlamps heading down the trail.  Runners starting out, they have marked the top of the trail for me and I now know exactly where it is.  The excitement does not carry itself into my drained muscles as they are moving like molasses in winter, but I do not force them faster.  They have borne enough for me and I know the end is near.  I will bear with their slow movement up as long as they continue to move.  Moments later the runners pass me with a quick, "good morning" then one turns back.  "Hey, are you the cop lady that hiked rim to rim to rim and started out yesterday?", "Yes that's me.".  "Oh good.  One of your friends was worried.  He came to the trail head to wait for you and was here till 1am but didn't see you come out.  You made it , good job!".  "Thanks", I quietly replied.  I was touched that someone was waiting and concerned for my safety even though there was nothing within reason they could do for me.  I slowly plodded on.

     4:30am
I slowly turned the very last corner and trudged my way to flat ground. Inside I was whooping with joy and elation, but my body was too tired to respond.  The wind was brutally cold and I was still 1.5 miles away from our campground.  I took myself to a port-o-potty to get away from the wind and attempted to call my friend Goff.  Of course...his phone was off.  I sat there shivering and wondering how I could possibly make it another mile and a half walking in this cold wind.  "I'm too tired Lord.  I'm so tired."  I felt a huge need to share with someone that I had come out alive and after sending a text to my niece who I knew was asleep I called a friend at work.  We talked for a few minutes and then I ended the conversation knowing it was time to walk myself back to camp whether I wanted to or not.  The group would be waking soon and I didn't want them to be afraid something had happened to me.  Just as I was exiting the port-o-potty I heard a bus go by.  I could not walk fast enough to get to the stop before it drove away, I could not yell loud enough for the driver to hear me.  The bus stop had no protection from the wind and as I waited for the next bus I huddled against a pillar shivering violently from the cold.  Finally the next bus came and drove me within a few hundred feet of the campsite.  As I walked up to the camp I realized how violently cold I was and knew my tent would not provide enough heat for me in my cold condition.  I pulled my sleeping bags out of my tent and (strange as it sounds) took them to the bathroom where I huddled on the floor.  It was gross, but so was I after 24hrs of hiking and at least it offered protection from the wind.  After an hour of shivering I ventured out to see if anyone was awake.  One of our group members saw me walk up and asked if I was okay and did I just get out?  I told him I was out at 4:30 but everyone was still asleep and I didn't want to wake them.  I must have looked some kind of a wreck because concern covered his face as he asked what he could do for me.  I said, through chattering teeth, that I didn't know but I could not get myself to warm up.  He quickly got a key to one of the vehicles and tucked me inside with a giant sleeping bag and the heater on full blast.  "I am making you some hot chocolate to warm you up inside", he said as he closed the door.  I nodded my assent and lay there shivering for about fifteen minutes.  Finally my body temperature leveled out and I was able to sit up and drink the hot chocolate offered me.  As I stumbled out and around the campground gathering my things to leave my friend Goff said, "Smile, you just hiked the Grand Canyon." And so I had.

There are huge blisters on both of my feet.  Three days later I am still slowly moving like a geriatric patient with bad arthritis and no cane.  When I walk it feels like I am stepping on glass shards, parts of both feet are totally numb and the thought of putting on work boots tomorrow still makes me cringe.  I have been asked several times if it was worth it, and my answer is unequivocally yes.  I spent 24.5 hours solid with nothing but my creator and His creation.  I had an opportunity to push myself past my own physical limits to where I could only rely on His strength to bring me through.  I saw amazing vistas and creatures I may never have a chance to see again.  And most of all I know where my greatest strength lies, and it is not in myself.  I would not say that everyone should go out and hike the length of the Grand Canyon or any similar venture, but I would say this.  I believe we all have our Grand Canyon moments.  Those journeys in our lives that seem too great, too exhausting and too much for us to endure.  When we are faced with them we have two choices.  We can look at that gaping canyon and say, "it's too much, it's too dangerous, I will stay here where I know it is beautiful and safe."  or we can step out onto the trail and keep moving when every fiber of our body begs for us not to.  If you never enter the valley you will never know how much the Lord is willing and able to bring you through.  Faith must come before great miracles can happen, and faith must be acted upon.