Tears Shed for the Grand Canyon

Every time I see a news report of a natural disaster—whether it is a hurricane, flood, or fire—my heart breaks for the victims.

That is because I can relate, even in a small way. My parent’s home was once flooded, and while we did not lose everything, it took a lot to pick up all the pieces and start again. There is the agony of throwing out items that hold a lot of memories. When I see the a natural disaster, I almost always make a donation to an area relief fund. These places are far away from my home—places like Hawaii, Texas, and California.  I’ve never visited the sites of most of these disasters. But the Dragon Bravo Fire at the North Rim of the Grand Canyon is different. That blaze, which started after a lightning strike on July 4 and continues to burn as I am writing write this blog, is more personal.

Less than three months before that fire, I completed running the Grand Canyon rim-to-rim-to-rim. I experienced on foot the South Rim and the North Rim. I traveled the canyon trails, crossed the Colorado River and ran along Bright Angel Creek. I stopped at the man-made locations such as Phantom Ranch, Cottonwood Campground, and Manzanita rest area.

There are few places on this earth that are more magical and special than the Grand Canyon. The pictures of the canyon are awe-inspiring. People travel long distances to just peer over the South Rim. Yet, as my experience revealed to me, that magnificent view is just a small part of the grandeur of the Grand Canyon.

Luckily in this fire no lives have been lost. It has also been confined mostly to the North Rim, an area that is much quieter than the famous South Rim. The South Rim is still open and bustling. The news coverage has been scant, maybe because it is in a more remote part of the park. On the east coast where I live when I mention the fire almost no one even knows about it. It is however the largest forest fire in the United States this year. Yet for me and others with Grand Canyon experiences that are similar to mine, this fire hits home.

This was not just a fire in a faraway place, it was a personal memory of a special and magical place—a memory of an adventure. In some ways, it was a solo journey that was a shared memory I had with strangers. Before the run I had read about other runners and hikers’ experience doing rim-to-rim-to-rim. I got great advice from a Facebook group which helped tremendously. I commented on others’ dream of exploring the Grand Canyon. While I had not seen the lodge on the North Rim I felt a connection to it. For most of us who have accomplished this feat, it was not done on a whim. It took a great deal of planning and preparation.

Those who now dream of a similar Grand Canyon adventure have had to put that dream on hold. I see their posts as they wonder when they can once again pursue their dream. Since the fire is still raging there is no way to know what the timeframe is to reopen the North Rim. My guess is that their dreams will be deferred much longer than they anticipate. We do not know what the short- and long-term effects of the fire will be.

I saw someone post that they had planned to do this run to celebrate a milestone birthday and were now seeking something else, but they wanted it to be as epic as the Grand Canyon. Good luck, I thought. That is a very high bar.  In this beautiful country I know that there are some epic runs but there is something special about the rim-to-rim-to-rim.

One of the lessons I have learned in life is that if you have something that you really want to do, do it now. Don’t wait. There are no guarantees in life. That was why I decided to do it as soon as I could. But I admit when I was thinking that life holds no guarantees, I was contemplating the human element. I could never even imagine that the Grand Canyon might not be open.

As I came to the realization that this fire had destroyed all the buildings on the North Rim and even entered the canyon itself, my heart sank. I looked at my photos of the canyon that I had run. I watched the videos I have—particularly the ones at the North Rim and the North Kaibab Trail. It was a wonderful and awe-inspiring adventure that I hope others can one day replicate.

I know that as I ran the canyon on my way back, I thought of returning and going slower and exploring it even more over a few days. To the vast majority of visitors the views of the South Rim are the Grand Canyon, to others, like me, that is not true.  You cannot separate out the sections of the canyon. The inner canyon trails, the North Rim, Bright Angel Creek, and the Colorado River are all intertwined. You may not see them from the top of the South Rim, but they are just as important, even though they draw fewer visitors.

When I had finished my Grand Canyon run my friend Ed said to me “Ray you are in a very select group. The number who do that is very small.” I pooh-poohed that because I reasoned that people do it every day. Now, for the foreseeable future, they can’t. But Mother Nature will rebound and I am sure that people will once again traverse the Grand Canyon.

I know that the news coverage of the Dragon Bravo Fire has not been in our face, probably because there was less damage to man-made buildings. Yet to me the damage runs deeper because it has destroyed a beautiful natural landscape.

To those tourists who walk the South Rim, the Grand Canyon is magnificent and awe inspiring, though the experience is almost only two-dimensional. For those of us who traversed the Grand Canyon rim-to-rim-to-rim the canyon awakens all your senses and is spiritual. Spiritual losses affect you deeply. I don’t think I am alone with this pain.

Someday the Grand Canyon will rebound. When it does, I recommend that you make the effort to traverse it. As we have seen so dramatically, there are no guarantees in life.