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.

 

 

 

Experiencing the Grand Canyon

When I took up running shortly after turning 50, one of my goals was to get in shape for when I was 75. I used to say that I did not want to drive to a scenic spot on the top of a mountain but hike to it. Take it from me, the view from the mountain top is better if you get there by using your own two feet rather than a car.

As I was walking around the south rim of the Grand Canyon there were throngs of people taking in the awesome views. It was spectacular. They were taking photos of each other using the Grand Canyon as a backdrop to make their photos even more impressive.

I, however, wanted more. I wanted to experience the canyon, not just look at it from the top. So, at the age of 65 I decided to run the Grand Canyon rim to rim to rim (Also referred to as rim2rim2rim) a distance of over 43 miles. I had trained for this run and felt confident but knew that it would not be easy at all. Yet the anticipation and anxiety that I described in a previous blog was gone when I got out of my friend Ed’s car at 3:55 a.m. and ran down the road about half a mile to the South Kaibab trailhead. It was a cold night, but I knew I could remove my jacket and go in a t-shirt once I reached the bottom. I have never been on this trail and had only read about it. Yet I was excited to head into the dark with only my headlamp showing me where to go. Even though I was going downhill my pace was slower than usual. It was dark and that made me slow down to make sure I did not fall. Plus, it was a difficult path to run. I found that the downhill steps on the trail were at unusual distances apart, so my gait was slower than normal. I usually am very good at the downhills but this time I found my pace slower.

Even when the sun began to rise, I did not quicken the pace. Part of that was because I was taking pictures and videos with my cell phone. For some reason the GoPro camera was not working. I was annoyed because I had counted on that for most of my videos. Even without taking pictures I would stop and take in the views. The coloring of the canyon walls kept changing as the sun rose.

After crossing the famed Black Bridge over the Colorado River, I headed towards Phantom Ranch. I had read so much about Phantom Ranch that somehow in my head I pictured it to be a rather modern facility. But I found they were comfortable cabins but rather rustic. It was not to be confused with the celebrated and elegant El Tovar hotel at the top of the south rim. I filled my one water flask that I had used on the way down, took off my jacket and ate a snack. I was disappointed in my time; I was running about 30 minutes behind what I anticipated.  I hoped I could pick up the pace on the rather flat stretch ahead of me along Bright Angel Creek.

I loved this section of the run. The roar of rushing water from the creek accompanied me for the next six miles or so. I also ran through what they call the “box” which is a section where the canyon narrows and it is basically the Bright Angel Creek, the North Kaibab Trail, and the canyon walls. While I was warned about the heat in the “box,” I found it shady, cool and very pleasant. Even though it was enjoyable my pace was still lagging behind my normal trail pace. I was not sure why. I had been very sick the week before so maybe I was not at 100%.  I also had lingering symptoms of the cold, including a stuffy head that required me to stop and blow my nose several times.

I really liked the North Kaibab Trail. The “box” was pleasant and hearing the creek flow was lovely. Then the trail opened up and the walls of the canyon were farther apart and it was a different run. But I still was running slower than usual. I arrived at Cottonwood campground before 9 a.m. and was hoping that I could refill my water flask, but the water was off. I had read that it was off but hoped that by some miracle they had turned it on and forgot to post it. It was a nice campground although the lack of water made it very rustic. The signs said “be quiet” which I obeyed. Then again there was no one to talk to. I headed to Manzanita where I knew that there would be water. While I had plenty of water at the moment, I was going through it fast.

It was a steady but not steep climb to Manzanita. Again after reading about it I expected something larger because of its importance to runners and hikers. It is a vital stop because it has water and port-a-potties. It also had a picnic table. I had passed a few hikers along the way but no runners. I was beginning to suspect I was the last rim2rim2rim runner that day.  This would be my last water stop until I returned on my way back so it was about six miles of a steep climb to the North Kaibab Trailhead at the north rim of the Grand Canyon. The north rim was closed for the season and the water was turned off at the top so I would have to make my water last. I had more than two liters of water, so I thought I would be okay.

The climb up to the top of the north rim was difficult. Not only was it steep but there were sections in which the trail was only about four or five feet wide and there was a cliff drop on one side that kept me from looking out across the canyon walls. The top of the North Rim is over 8,000 feet of elevation so my climb was about 6,000 feet. I was definitely struggling. I was also going through my water at an alarming rate. I was contemplating turning back about a mile from the rim to save time because I could see that it was going to take me 8 hours to get to the rim, which meant probably at least a nine-hour timeframe to return.

I, however, did make it to the north rim and rested a bit. There was some snow on the north rim which was why it is not open until May 15^th. As I was sitting two runners appeared also doing the rim2rim2rim. They were from Texas and Virginia. We talked a bit and I found that they had left at 5:30 a.m. so they were moving faster than I. I had limited water but enough to get back to Manzanita if I was smart. I did have the option of running a mile to a ranger station and then returning. But adding the mileage and time was not appealing to me. Plus going downhill, I probably would not be exerting as much energy as going uphill.

I said goodbye to my fellow rim2rim2rim runners and headed back down the North Kaibab trail. As I headed down the trail, I quickly came upon two runners a short distance from the rim and a little while later two more runners. So there were seven of us rim2rim2rim runners. I was the only solo. It was obvious to me that very few do this journey solo.

I enjoyed the run down to Manzanita. I felt fairly strong and took in the views and took some videos. I also encountered a man who I passed on the way up who was hiking the Arizona Trail from Mexico to Utah. We encouraged each other on our own separate journeys. I was also passed as I suspected by four of the rim2rim2rim runners. The other two runners never passed me.

When I came into Manzanita all four were there taking a break. I quickly used the bathroom facilities and filled my water bladders. I had another long leg without access to water and it would be sunnier and hotter on my way to Phantom Ranch. As we chatted, we all realized that this run was taking us longer than we anticipated. I had anticipated 14-15 hours but would end up over 17 hours.

I was the first to leave Manzanita because I knew that it would take me a lot longer than the four younger runners. As I left I said “I will see you later when you pass me.”  Both sets of runners did pass me a few miles down the trail. I also was hoping that I could get to Phantom Ranch before 4 p.m. so that I could grab their world-famous lemonade and a snack before my last big push up the South Kaibab Trail. It would be a long shot, but it gave me a goal to push myself harder. It ended up being a mistake. I was starving and should have eaten more at Manzanita instead of pushing myself.

I soon realized that Phantom Ranch before 4 p.m. was a dream. I was now both physically and emotionally spent. Despite my fatigue and being a bit despondent about my time I enjoyed the moments of shade in the “box.” As I entered Phantom Ranch, I was very tired. That big push to get there had drained me. I tried to see if I could find a snack but to no avail.

I was contemplating my options. I had my credit card with me. Maybe I could see if there was a cabin available and get a good meal and sleep and head out early in the morning. No, I thought I needed to finish this. So, what if it takes me until the wee hours of the night. I headed to the water station for the last but most difficult leg of the journey.

I was fully experiencing the Grand Canyon –not only its beauty and awe but its difficulties and harshness. Sometimes those qualities of beauty, awe, harshness and difficulty all coexist in one place.

Next Blog The Last Grueling Leg Out of the Canyon

A Runner’s Grand Canyon Resfeber

Resfeber Definition: The restless race of the traveler’s heart before the journey begins, when anxiety and anticipation are tangled together. (Swedish term)

I came across the word resfeber at a 24 hour race I was entered in. It was on the back of the race shirt we got at the race. I loved the term. There is no word in the English language that quite captures one’s mood just before a journey as this one does. While the word is focused on traveling and literally translates to “travel fever” I think it also applies to difficult ultra marathons. They may not involve traveling like when one is on a vacation, but they definitely constitute a journey.

I had set my sights on running the Grand Canyon from the south rim to the north rim and back to the south rim. It would not be the longest run I had ever attempted but it would be a very difficult challenge because of the steepness of the climbs and descents. In addition, the weather could change dramatically from the top of the canyon to the bottom. There would be swings of temperature of more than thirty degrees. In addition, I would need to be self-sufficient, carrying my own food and gear. It would also be a solo journey.

I was at a family Easter party and every so often someone would ask me about the run. People are naturally intrigued by the distance, terrain and the location. While I usually like to regale others with running stories, I was done discussing this story. I had done my research and training and just wanted to do it. I was also a bit nervous as I usually am in anticipation of any difficult run.  I feel very ready but still have to wait.

As I write this paragraph, I am on a jet heading to Phoenix. I will land and spend a night with friends in Scottsdale, then a day later head to the Grand Canyon. The resfeber is building. I feel that mix of anticipation and excitement, but it is mixed with anxiety because I know of the difficulties that lie ahead.

I am wondering what it will feel like to peer out over the Grand Canyon the day before my run knowing that I will be heading down in the dark the next morning. I will have a mini entourage to the Grand Canyon. My wife and our friends Ed and Sue will also go. It will be a long drive to the Grand Canyon. I feel a bit guilty because they are all traveling to the canyon to help me fulfill my adventurous journey.  I know that what I am doing is a bit unique and sometimes it is hard to explain to others, especially people in my age group. Most are thinking of slowing down and I am feeling like speeding up.

I did a short six mile run in the desert setting outside of Sue and Ed’s home in Scottsdale. It felt good after spending all day on a plane and sitting around. It was cool, probably the low fifties or high forties. My running felt a little off. I was not running smoothly. I had been sick the week before but felt I had recovered. However, my routine had been affected. I was not in the moment. My anxiety and anticipation was distracting me.

As we got off the shuttle bus and headed to the ranger station at the top of the south rim, we realized that they were closing. My friends thought it was important to get as much information as I could about the weather. I knew that park rangers were not very enamored with rim2rim2rim runners so I was hesitant to really discuss anything with them that might give me away. So, I saw a friendly ranger and asked her where was the best place to park for the South Kaibab trailhead? I don’t remember who asked but they asked about the weather at the bottom because I was running the rim to rim to rim. Her demeanor immediately changed. “We don’t recommend that anyone do that. It is extremely hot at the bottom. We expect it to be 95 degrees tomorrow.” Now that did not jive with all the reports, I had read but we just walked away.

If her idea was to plant a seed of doubt and maybe change my mind she failed. Though my wife was now hesitant. She said to me “Now Ray don’t do overdo it. Please if it gets to be beyond your ability, it is okay to cut it short.” She knew better than I, that I would push myself as hard as I could. Though as she said loud enough for Ed and Sue to hear “I just wanted to have witnesses that if you don’t make it, I had warned you!” Ed and Sue astutely mentioned that they thought the ranger was trying to scare me by exaggerating the temperature.

As I peered out over the canyon at Mather Point. I have to admit I was in awe because from that vantage point it looked impossible to get down the canyon let alone traverse it. Yet there was only one way that I could eliminate the resfeber. That was to start down the trail. After that it would be like many other difficult runs managing the issues that arise and pushing and motivating myself to keep going.

Yet I hadn’t started the run, and my heart was racing with nervousness. The side effect of this is that sleeping the night before a major run is always difficult. I closed my eyes and dreamt about my upcoming journey.

The next morning, I had no resfeber. It was go time.