R2R2R - 2013

"To stand upon the edge of this stupendous gorge, as it receives its earliest greeting from the god of day, is to enjoy in a moment compensation for long years of ordinary uneventful life."

Stoddard, John  1898

It wasn't long ago that I was introduced to the world of ultra running, races, and culture. And it wasn't long before I started reading and hearing stories of some the crazy runs and races people were doing. One of these crazy runs a friend told me about was the Grand Canyon Rim to Rim to Rim (or R2R2R) run. I was still at a point where I couldn't see myself doing anything as crazy as running through one of the largest gorges in the world and back again. That wasn't going to last long.

Shooting the breeze around our old west campfire.

A couple of months ago, my friend Deron created a Facebook event for a small group of runners to run the R2R2R only two weeks after the Zane Grey 50 (which we were both running). I passively committed to the run, not knowing if I would even be walking after running Zane Grey, let alone running. It wasn't until the after the Zane Grey disaster that I decided that there wasn't any way I would miss R2R2R. It was practically decided for me.

Before I knew it, I was setting up camp in the Grand Canyon Park's Mather campground while chatting to Deron, Andy, John, Lorrie and Ryan about our imminent trip into the canyon. Lorrie and Ryan were the only ones in our group who had previously done R2R2R and we all listened to a some of their stories from their last double-crossing. It was funny to me how 3 of the 5 blog posts, and now Lorrie and Ryan's story, were actually quite unnerving stories. Stories of people who suffered from dehydration, heat exhaustion, or a host of other problems and had slogged through hours of misery to make it out of the canyon by the skin of their teeth. I started to wonder what I had gotten myself into.

Kaibab: Navajo for "mountain lying down"

About to begin the descent.

At roughly 5:40 AM the next morning, we were all standing at the top of the South Kaibab trailhead looking deep into the Grand Canyon as the sun peaked over the horizon and bathed the canyon in an almost unearthly glow. There was no way any of our cameras would come remotely close to capturing

the spectacular scenery we were about to run through, and we all knew it. We strapped on our packs, pushed the start buttons on our GPS watches and began our descent.

The S. Kaibab trail starts at approximately 7,260 ft of elevation and, over the course of just over 6 miles, deposits runners at the base of the canyon at 2,400 ft above sea level. That's a loss of about 800 ft/mile. Needless to say, we all knew that we needed to preserve our quads for later in the day by not pounding out this downhill too aggressively. That proved to not be a problem as we stopped multiple times to take pictures and to just enjoy the scenery.

Yep. That's Joe Galope, race director for Zane Grey!

About an hour and a half later we arrived at the bottom of the canyon at the first major stop, Phantom Ranch. It was really spectacular how much greenery surrounded us in the middle of that desert canyon. Phantom Ranch is set at the base of the Bright Angel Creek where it enters the Colorado River, and the trees and plant life there provided the perfect place to stop for hikers, rafters, runners, and campers. It helps that there are multiple buildings, drinking water and food there, too. Just saying. There were whole towns smaller than Phantom Ranch where I grew up.

We stayed at Phantom Ranch just long enough to get a small bite to eat, refill our packs from the water spigot, and visit with some friends from Phoenix we just happened to bump into. It wasn't long before we began the run up the North Kaibab trail alongside the Bright Angel creek on our way to Cottonwood Camp. We couldn't have chosen a better time of day to be running through the box canyon. There were some spectacular shadows cast through the canyon. Combined with the perfect

temperature and the sound of the creek nearby, it made for an amazing, almost unnoticeable run. That is, for some of us. The effect must have been overpowering on Deron and before long he found himself  catching his feet in his shoelaces and did a great impression of superman onto the canyon trail. Very graceful. With two bloody knees, he wins the award for the first and only injury from our trip.

I have a confession to make at this point: I'm horrible at keeping track of people running behind me. It wasn't long before I glanced behind me and realized that I was well ahead of the rest of the group. It didn't worry me at all since our group consisted of accomplished runners who were all able to navigate the trail themselves. Besides, there's only one trail ...I don't think it's possible to get lost along this section.

I arrived at Cottonwood Camp about 7 minutes ahead of the rest of the group and refilled my pack and bottle for the next section of the trail. The rest of the group arrived soon after. Again, we didn't stay long at this stop, but were able to relax a little and breath. You just can't get this quality of air in Phoenix.

North Kaibab. The climb begins.

We left Cottonwood camp as a group and Lorrie, Ryan and I settled into a nice steady pace on our way up to our next water stop at Roaring Springs. We all knew this was going to be a long climb, and I was just fine doing a fast power-hike up any hill that came my way. It was important to preserve some energy for the way back and not burn out the legs too early. It really didn't seem like it took long to get to Roaring Springs. Lorrie and Ryan are a great couple and kept the conversation interesting and entertaining. Much of this section just flew by for me.

We didn't stay long at Roaring Springs, in fact, I don't think Lorrie stopped at all. I stopped long

enough to top up my bottle and then hurried my pace up to catch up with our intrepid leaders. I don't need to call this out again, but the North Kaibab trail is beautiful. It's amazing to me the diversity of the

The view looking down the switchbacks of North Kaibab.

plants in that area. There was never a time when there wasn't something interesting to look at. Granted, there were a number of places where, for someone like me who is uncomfortable with heights, I didn't want to look too long. The trail literally climbs the canyon wall, in some places carved right into the wall, and the edge of the trail drops straight down more than I care to think about.

This climb is one of those climbs where I switch into second gear and just grind out the miles. Lorrie and Ryan both did the same thing and we were able to maintain a decent ascent up N. Kaibab. We had to slow only once for a water break at Supai Tunnel and for another mule train, this time going up the canyon. That's always an entertaining experience to try and squeeze between a canyon wall and some pack mules. Those suckers are big.

We all agreed that we wouldn't pause long at the top; only enough to refill our packs, grab a quick bite to eat and turn around back down the canyon. When we got near the top, the newly hatched flies were nearly unbearable. There's something about a sweaty, stinky runner that made them hungry, I think. Ryan and I were both getting bitten more than we cared for. I got in and out of there quickly if only for that reason.

The descent was quick. I left the top of the North Rim with much less caution and concern for my quads, pounding out the downhill and passing runners and hikers until I was on my own again. Soon after leaving the top, I passed Deron and John coming up, but I didn't see any sign of Andy. I figured that he was down the trail and I would be passing him very soon. I passed Lorrie and a lot of other runners, but no Andy. I made it down to Roaring Springs where I half expected Andy to be waiting to join the rest of our group for the trip back to the South Rim. Again, no sign of Andy. I'm a worrier by nature and started wondering what could have happened to him. Best case scenario: he turned around and ran back on his own. Worst case? The medivac helicopter I had heard leaving the canyon was carrying him to Flagstaff. I think I'll focus on the positive outcome here...

I continued at a slower pace on my way to Cottonwood Campground, thinking that Lorrie and Ryan would soon fall in behind me. No one was within sight though. I continued on at a slowed pace all the way to Cottonwood Campground but no one caught up. The campground was quiet, too. I filled my bottle with EFS and carbopro and started snacking on dried apricots and apples. After about 10 minutes of waiting, I could feel my legs stiffening up and decided to press on. Cliff bar in hand, I started out for Phantom Ranch.

This is where it got bad.

I wasn't two miles down the trail, moving at the same slow pace as before so I could eat while I moved, when I ran out of water. I was contently eating my Cliff bar, sipping water from my pack to moisten my mouth enough to chew when the water just stopped. Yeah. I'm an idiot. I remembered to fill up my electrolyte/carb mix, but didn't fill up my pack with water. Not a problem, right? I still have fluid in my bottle. Problem: the fluid in my bottle is a potent slightly syrupy mix. Every drink I take from my bottle coats my mouth and my teeth in more sticky sugary mess.

So, I can either turn around and go back to Cottonwood Campground, or I can push on and get to Phantom Ranch, another 5 miles down the trail. Hmmm ...I'm not feeling too bad at this point. I'll push on. The day was heating up and I decided to conserve energy to keep me from sweating too much and wasting more water, so I started power hiking again. That eventually morphed into a fast walk ...and then a slower walk.

This section was torture. I was out of water. I had cotton mouth. The Bright Angel creek was babbling joyfully to my right, but there wasn't an easy way to get to it. To make things worse, I was on my own with no sight of any other hiker for the first time that day. Oh, and I had two lines from a Pink song (where did THAT come from) repeating over and over in my head. That's enough to drive almost anyone crazy.

The miles seem to drag on at the pace I was going. I wanted to run, but I knew that I was dehydrated and it was definitely not a good idea. I slowly sipped from the bottle since it was fluid, and was filled with electrolytes. I figured it could only help, right? It wasn't long before I noticed that my hands and feet were swollen. In the state of mind I was in, I couldn't make sense of it. And Pink wasn't helping. I was in rough shape.

I plodded along on the trail asking God to give me some strength, some companions, and to banish Pink forever. It seemed that for every corner I turned, there was another long trail section leading to yet another corner. I remembered a podcast I had listened to earlier the day before about compartmentalizing during difficult times in order to deal with the challenge in "bite sized" chunks. So, while trying to force Pink from my mind, I focused on the next turn, and the next one, and the one after that, then the bridge, then the next bridge, etc. The whole time sipping from my slurry mixture the consistency of runny maple syrup.

Miraculously, my legs started feeling less like lead and my head started to clear up a little. I picked up my pace a little and soon found myself behind two hikers. They weren't much help though. They had already gone through their water, but assured me that Phantom Ranch was just a quarter mile ahead. I pushed on and started seeing signs for Phantom Ranch, my beloved oasis in the canyon!

The Phantom at the Ranch

I'm sure the sight of me stumbling into the cafeteria at Phantom Ranch was slightly reminiscent of the parched cowboy staggering through the swinging bar doors of an old west town. At least that's how the clerk looked at me. I remembered that Honey, another runner friend of mine, had told me that I needed to get some Lemmy's Lemonade before I left Phantom Ranch, and that was the ONLY thing that sounded good at the time. I plopped $2.50 down on the counter and filled my cup with ice and lemonade and took a seat at the nearest table. It was unclear to me how long I sat there, but when I saw Lorrie passed the cafeteria windows, I got up and called her inside.

Lorrie came in, dropped her bottle on the table, and got in line for some lemonade. Not long after, Ryan came by and I called him in. Ryan wasn't feeling great either. Lorrie came back to the table, looked at me more closely and said that my eyes were sunken and wide, my pupils dilated and my cheekbones were protruding. Great. I look like a corpse. I couldn't take offense to this, in fact, I appreciated the honesty. I was feeling ten times better than when I first got to Phantom Ranch though.

There were now a few people in line, both checking in for the night at Phantom Ranch, and ordering up treats and drinks. There were three women in line who started asking me questions about where I was coming from and where I was going. I managed to mumble that I was doing R2R2R, which caught the interest of one of them, another runner. She just kept asking me questions about the run and talking about how she wants to someday run R2R2R. I'm not sure how cogently I answered their questions, but she kept glancing over at me, Ryan and Lorrie while we refreshed ourselves. I wonder if she was having second thoughts.

Back on the trail

After spending 35-ish minutes in the cool confines of Phantom Ranch, it was time to get moving again. Lorrie and Ryan led the charge down the trail toward the Bright Angel trail and the next bridge

spanning the Colorado River. I lagged behind a little while I messed with my pack and forced myself to eat a Stinger gel, but they took it slow and I was soon able to catch up. I don't know whose idea of a cruel joke this was, but it wasn't long after we crossed the bridge before I found myself trudging through hot, soft sand. This trail truly has a little bit of everything.

The trail quickly begins going uphill and, like you might expect, it doesn't stop until the top. We settled into a nice power hike pace again and trudged through the sand trying not to get any in our shoes. I continued past the first rest stop, as Lorrie and Ryan paused for a minute or two, and found a small creek crossing over some limestone. It was the perfect time to stoop and wet my bandana with some cold water. Now, I'm not sure if it was at this point or at one of the two subsequent creek crossings I ran through with reckless abandon, but at some point, my camera fell out of my pack pocket. I didn't even notice until about two miles down the trail when I reached into the pouch for my camera to take a picture of the brutal climb ahead of me.

After considering the options of either descending two miles down the trail to look for a camouflage camera, or to write it off and continue on up Bright Angel, I realized the choice was easy -- onward and upward. After all, it's just a "thing" right? As I climbed I thought of how sore and tired I was likely to be the next morning and that I might not make it home for Mother's Day church services. Then, I realized that the camera was a gift from my wife. Oh boy. I was going to be in trouble. Again, I found myself talking to God to somehow get me the camera back, and in exchange I would make every effort to make it back in time for church. Bartering with the Almighty ...I waited for lightning.

Indian Gardens

We continued up to the Indian Gardens campground which was an unusually vibrant spot. The frequency of the hikers had been increasing as we got closer to the top of the rim, but it spiked when we hit Indian Gardens. A couple of youth groups and other random hikers/runners were in various stages of refueling or just visiting under the shade of the trees. The frogs were producing some of the strangest croaking I have heard in a long time -- it reminded me of the sound effects from a Star Wars movie.

Lorrie and I had left Ryan a few minutes behind and decided to wait there for him. I sat on the bench and was immediately sorry I did. My stomach started doing flip flops and I knew I had to get moving again soon. About that time a runner came up the trail. We made some jokes about how we all run into the aid stations, but this guy was really fit. He had run almost the whole way from the bottom and had decided to pick up the pace a little when he found ...MY CAMERA! Yeah. How he saw that on the trail I will never know, but he did. He had scanned through a couple of pictures and realized that he had seen our group -- Lorrie and Ryan are  hard couple to miss. He turned up the intensity in order to try and catch us to return the camera. Amazing things happen in the Grand Canyon.

The final push

Lorrie had done some quick calculations and had decided that "no matter what [she] would be out of the canyon by 7:15." Sweet! A goal! This was the perfect time to establish something to shoot for as I felt like I had just been surviving the overall challenge. This was attainable, but it was going to take some work. The three of us started up the hill again and quickly settled into our familiar power hiking pace, which got us quickly past a few small groups of hikers leaving Indian Gardens.

The next 4-5 miles went very quickly given the pace we were moving and the fatigue that had settled into my legs. Ryan fell off the back of the group and we were soon a few switchbacks ahead of him. It wasn't long before the 3 mile and then the 1.5 mile rest stops came into view and passed. I was in the

final stretch and it felt good! I kept glancing down at my Garmin as we got closer and realized that Lorrie's goal of 7:15 was just about past. We were going to have to move a little faster. The trail incline had decreased enough that I was able to accelerate to a slow run. 7:11, 7:12, 7:13 -- DONE!

The "finish line"

Andy was waiting for us at the top and let out a welcoming cheer when we arrived. I couldn't believe it was done. It was 13:40:17 of the hardest run I had done. The whole experience was amazing, humbling, and exhilarating, and it really helped me put a lot of things into perspective. It's always amazing to me how low I can feel when things get tough. I begin to question the whole point of an active lifestyle, and I'm certain I'll never willingly run again. Yet, after reaching the Bright Angel trailhead at the top of the South Rim, I was already considering doing it again. After all, 13:40:17 is just a starting point -- I'm sure I can break 12:00:00...

Oh, and I woke up at 5:15 AM the next day and made it to church on time! No doghouse for me.