My brother Bailey, John Brower and myself arrived at Grand Canyon National Park last Thursday evening following 24 hours in a Black Dodge Charger (pictures below). Despite many hours in the car and our desperate need for a clean bathroom, we went straight to the rim. After eight weeks of anticipation, we just couldn't wait a minute longer to see it. As we stumbled down from the parking lot and looked out over that huge crevasse, I had three thoughts:
1. The Grand Canyon doesn't look anything like I thought it would;
2. It's huge; and
3. I'm not ready for this.
Gulp.
Brower spotted the beginning of the Bright Angel Trail thousands of feet below. That's the trail that would us take down into the Canyon.
"So where's the North Rim?" I asked.
Bailey pointed to the furthest point you could point across the Canyon. It looked like it was 100 miles away and higher than high.
"Right there," he said. "That's the North Rim."
I knew the North Rim was supposed to be 23 miles away, but it looked so much further. I hoped he was wrong.
We jumped in the car and drove over to the Bright Angel Trailhead, where we were greeted by a big sign that says: "Do not try to hike to the river and back in one day." and "Can you run the Boston Marathon? Jane Doe did and she died trying to hike to the river and back in one day."
Double Gulp. I'm a far cry from running the Boston Marathon.
Bailey said, "Don't worry Jake, we're not going to the river and back. We're going all the way across and back!"
I eked out an unenthusiastic, "Yay..." I was so worried I could hardly speak at dinner.
Rim to rim to rim is about 46 miles. And there are thousands of feet of elevation change. In other words, GIANT hills. While I had completed a 50 mile run in early March, it was a flat 50 miler. And I didn't exactly finish in record time. I was beyond concerned about my ability to finish this run.
Despite the fear, I was ready to go with a Camel Bak chock full of Gu and Cliff Bars, a 70 oz. bladder and two handheld water bottles just after the alarm went off at 2 a.m. The three of us were running down the trail at 3 a.m.
And I do mean DOWN the trail.
It was straight down. We literally ran downhill for miles. Steep grades. Stair steps. Down we went. Back and forth on the switch backs, jumping mule pee and trying to follow the light of our head lamps. Down, down, down. It was dark, so we couldn't see anything but blackness and trail. We finally stopped for a moment and shined our headlamps up, where we saw a gigantic cliff looming straight over us like a tidal wave just before it crashes over your head. We were officially in the Canyon.
On down we went. After about two hours of running downhill, the thought finally occurred to me: "I'm going to have to run back up this thing at some point today.... Crap."
As we descended still further the Canyon walls began to appear as enormous dark shadows in the first light of the morning sky. We were obligated to stop and ooh and ah. Then down we went some more.
Day broke as we finally reached the bottom and saw the rushing waters of the Colorado River. It was beautiful.
We crossed the transparent metal grate bridge, took some photos and made our way to Phantom Ranch, the National Park's Canyon-Bottom Hotel, Canteen and Campground. Rational people get there by mule or take a day-long hike and spend the night. Not us. We stopped for water planning to see it again in about 26 miles. I looked at my watch. We had run downhill for two hours and forty minutes. Straight. Thoughts began to creep in my mind about a graceful way to head back and leave Bailey and Brower to it. The thought of telling all my friends and family that I'd turned back at mile 10 made me keep going. That and the fear of being eaten by a mountain lion. That was on the sign too. Or the internet, I can't remember. But apparently there are mountain lions in the Grand Canyon and if you're alone, you're an easier lunch. I elected to stay with Brower and Bails. We filled our bottles and left.
For the next few miles we ran through the magnificent "Box", a name given that portion of the canyon for the closely quartered high canyon walls surrounding the trail on either side. The trail started flat and began to incline. We were headed about six or seven miles to our next stop - the Cottonwood campground, located at around mile 16. We ran a steady pace. It felt good to be running on more even ground. The inclines started to get gradually steeper. At about mile 14 my legs were starting to burn. I looked at my watch. By this time we had been running almost five hours.
"Okay," I thought. "If I turn around at Cottonwood, that'll be a nice 50K. Who can call me a wuss for running a 50K in the Grand Canyon?" I thought about the mountain lion. I was beginning to feel like I was willing to risk being a meal after all.
"Uh guys," I said, as we busily filled our bottles at Cottonwood's faucet. "I might turn back. I just don't think I can make it."
"Nope. You're finishing," Brower said.
"I'm scared I'll be a liability to you guys if I keep going," I said.
"You won't be," Brower replied.
"Ok."
And off we went.
The hills were getting steeper. The scenery was more grassy meadows with some cacti and flowers. It was pretty. But my legs still hurt. Brower, who is fast as a cheetah and can eat Double Macs from McDonald's like nobody's business, put me in the lead. That's what fast people do when they don't want to be tempted to leave slow people. They follow the slow people. I knew that, because I'd been there before myself. But not on this trip. Leading also had the effect of making me feel responsible for their pace, which made me push my limits as much as I could and still feel like I had a chance to finish. I didn't want them suffering because of my slowness. Onward I pushed. We started to hit some steeper grades. I had to walk those. Quickly, but I did walk them. We ran and walked the grades like that all the way to the beginning of the real ascent. Up the North Rim. Once we hit those hills, it was all walking. After a few minutes going up the the ascent to the North Rim, even the walking began to get difficult. The altitude was kicking in. I was sucking oxygen. I tried to eat a Cliff Bar as we walked and nearly choked on it. I needed the oxygen too bad to chew. Those Cliff Bars are nothing if not a chewy mouthful. I now hate Cliff Bars.
The northern trail was incredible. The trail was literally dynamited into the side of sheer rock wall. The drop-offs were so long I couldn't even look down. It freaked me out. But the views were amazing, so I did look out.
We trudged on. I started to think I wouldn't be able to make it all the way up. We were at about mile 20 and I thought it might be a good idea to just let Bailey and Brower summit without me. But of course I didn't. My heart was absolutely pounding, as though I was running sub-seven minute miles. But I wasn't of course. I was walking. It was so hard.
We passed through a rock tunnel which meant two miles to the top. It also meant snow. We finished the last two miles of the climb trying not to slip on ice or snow. It just added to the difficulty. At times Bailey and I were leaning against the cliff and walking sideways across the icey trails like crabs so we wouldn't fall off the trail. That didn't help the heart rate. It seemed as though the trail would never end. But then, a few minutes later I heard Bailey and Brower, who were about 50 yards ahead, whooping. We made it rim to rim in 7:40.
It was awesome. We took a few pics and started back. Brower killed it down the slope and Bailey and I ran as fast as our screaming quads would allow. Running downhill for that long will rip your quads up. Making it to the top returned my confidence. I pushed it pretty hard and we made it back to Phantom Ranch fairly quickly. But when we got there I was completely wiped. I was dragging my way through the Ranch. I knew Bright Angel and 10 miles of climbs separated me from ever being finished. But it had to be done.
Brower encouraged urgency in getting to the top. I think he wanted us to beat the cold and dark. It was 3 p.m. 10 miles uphill would take a while. Especially at Jake speed.
"I'll do my best," I said, knowing that wouldn't be much...
We ran for about two miles and then the sudden ascent up Bright Angel began. That's when my legs said no mas. I had to walk those hills. We walked, walked and walked some more. My whole body screamed. Walking got harder and harder. I grunted about ever third step and groaned every fourth. It was rough. And the grades only got steeper. At times I would look up at the rim and wonder how there was even a trail that made it up there. The south rim looked to be eternity away and five miles straight up. Oh yeah...it was!
My back started to really ache. It was killing me so bad that Brower noticed me clutching it as I walked. He took my Camel Bak and stuffed it inside his backpack. I had no pride left. I just wanted to finish. I said thanks.
"That's why they call me the Shuttle," he said.
We marched on. Those switchbacks that we flew down 14 hours ago, were endless, steep, and slow. Stopping wasn't an option. I didn't want to be featured on that dang sign next year. It became a matter of putting one foot in front of the other. I was determined to finish.
At 7:15 we made the Rim. I was so relieved. Total time 16 hours. It was a great feeling to finish. The pizza and beer at the hotel room that night in Flagstaff was probably the best I've ever tasted. When you cheat death, pizza just tastes better.
Without a doubt, the Grand Canyon was the hardest run I've ever done. But it was awesome. Accomplishing it with Bailey and Brower was great. I definitely couldn't have done it without them. And I wouldn't have thought to do it without Bailey. Who knows? I might even do it again. Though I might do some hill training before I go.
You would think getting my butt totally kicked by a trail like that might make me consider hanging up the old running shoes, or perhaps just training for 10K's and Marathons from now on. Nope. Four days removed from this trip, I only want to run more. Weird, huh?
Here's some pics from the trip.
 |
| 4-25-10 Grand Canyon |
No comments:
Post a Comment