Four Days in the Canyon

Thursday, October 1, 2009 at 3:56pm

Simply stated, I walked down 9.6 miles from the top of Bright Angel Trail to Phantom Ranch at the bottom of the Grand Canyon and then walked 9.6 miles back up the Bright Angel Trail to the top. But the truth is not simple.

On Saturday, September 19th, at 6:30 a.m., I arrived bright-eyed and excited at the reservation desk at Bright Angel Lodge, where I was first on the waiting list for a bed at Phantom Ranch for that night. When my reservation was confirmed, I picked up my back pack and started off to the head of Bright Angel Trail. I had spent a couple of days talking to rangers, hikers, mule guides and anyone who might know something about hiking the canyon. I had been receiving daily emails about the Grand Canyon and took note of what I needed: two liters of water and salty snacks. Check. A ranger had said take only what you need and wear comfortable shoes. Based on my "research", I packed a change of socks and underwear, two liter bottles of water and two bags of trail mix and wore my tennis shoes. The shoes turned out to be the best thing I did.

I decided to wait for the mule train to start out about 7:00 a.m. and I started after them, so they wouldn't have to pass me on the trail, which can be very narrow in some places. They were out of sight in just a few minutes. The two liters of water were very heavy and everyone was passing me. After I'd been walking for a while, hugging the stone wall, asking it not to let me fall, a family passed me. It was a husband, wife and the wife's mother. The mother had to be at least ten years older than I am. She was tiny and frail-looking and walking slowly and a little stiffly. I thought if she can do this, I can do this. So I started following Eric, Joanne and Mary. At one point Eric turned and asked if I wanted to pass them and I replied that I was comfortable right where I was. They had purchased all new hiking gear, with colorful Grand Canyon souvenir kerchiefs. They were carrying lightweight backpacks with water bladders inside, so they always had their hands free. Eventually, Eric started carrying both his pack and Mary's. He offered to help carry mine, but I wasn't going to make someone carry my pack. No siree.

At about 11:00 we reached the Indian Gardens, approximately midway. My cell phone was still working and receiving a signal at that point. We rested for a few minutes, I ate a couple handfuls of trail mix and refilled one water bottle. On the way out of Indian Gardens (the last of the three water/rest areas on the trail), was a sign reading "Do not attempt to pass this point between 10:00 a.m. and 4:00 p.m." Well, how do you get the rest of the way down without going this way during those times? We continued on.

It wasn't long before we were walking in full sun, with the temperature about 93 degrees. When the ranger had said the temperature was going to be in the 90s, I reasoned that it was a lot hotter than that in Raleigh. What I failed to take into consideration, is that I had never tried to walk ten miles in Raleigh (or anywhere else) in 90 degree weather. I had never tried to walk ten miles, period. I just thought I could do it.

When I first arrived at the Grand Canyon, I noticed that it was difficult to catch my breath. Someone explained it was caused by the altitude and I didn't think about it again. I thought it would get better as I got farther down into the canyon. It didn't. I was hot, couldn't catch my breath, but drinking lots of water. All along the trail are boulders on both the outside and inside. I would find a flat boulder on the inside of the trail and stop until I caught my breath and start again.

We stopped at a stream that crossed the trail in a few places and Joanne gave me her kerchief to wet and tie around my neck. And Mary just kept going, apparently unfazed by the altitude, heat, or distance! I finally said, "Mary, you're embarrassing me!" But Mary had prepared for this hike by hiking the seven mile Iron Mountain trail with Joanne in San Diego.

By this time, I was having to stop to rest and catch my breath pretty often. When we reached a long, straight stretch of trail in full sun, I had to sit before starting across. I couldn't ask my new friends to lose any more time on my account and though they offered to wait with me, I told them to go on ahead. We were at the beginning of The Devil's Corkscrew. It is a series of switchbacks, like a zigzag. By this time, I was sitting more than I was walking. Other hikers came along and offered me Gator Aid, electrolyte tablets, food and even walked a little way into the Corkscrew with me. It was a fantastic social experience. I would have loved it if I hadn't thought I was dying.

Sit. Walk a few feet. Sit. I finally reached the Colorado River at the bottom and thought how great it would be to throw myself in! I was within sight of the bridge across the Colorado River leading to the Phantom Ranch. The sun was starting to set. I realized that I had been sitting and standing so much that I would probably not be able to stand the next time I sat. The bridge to my destination appearing just out of reach, I sat on my last flat boulder, with no idea how to get out of my predicament. I was certain no more people would come along the path and that I would spend the night there. About that time, a young couple strolled by and we exchanged smiles and hellos. They continued on about the length of a football field and the young woman turned and looked back. Then she spoke to her partner and they both turned around and came back to me. She asked if I was okay and I told her I wasn't. She said I couldn't stay there and I told her I couldn't go any farther. The debate ended when she said, "Get up and come with us!" So I did. Their names were Angie and Jake. Jake took my backpack and Angie started giving me handfuls of trail mix.

The brochure said take some salty snacks. I must have missed the part that said you have to eat them constantly without stopping. I had decided to have a big breakfast that morning, so I stopped at McDonald's and bought an Egg McMuffin. I ate two bites and threw it away. I just couldn't eat more. That's normal. And not eating all my trail mix is also normal. However, my exercise that day was not normal. When Angie found me, I couldn't swallow anymore. But she insisted and I ate and drank.

When we reached Phantom Ranch (I don't know how) Angie sent for a ranger to come assist me. I don't have any idea how I looked, but everyone was making serious faces at me. I didn't see Angie and Jake after that and hope I remembered to thank them. I just think it's interesting that their names are Jacob and Angel. I'm not reading anything into this, I just think it's interesting.

Mandi was the first ranger to meet me and took me to get something to eat. She looked at my half-eaten bag of trail mix and started the lecture I should have heard two days before! But not wasted on me, because I still had to get back out. And there is no other option. The sign at the start of the trail reads, "Going down is optional. Going back up is mandatory". No excuses. If you can stand and talk, you walk. Even though I swore that I couldn't possibly walk, Mandi assured me that I would!

I had only planned on one night, but when I got up on Sunday morning I didn't think I could walk to breakfast, much less 9.6 miles up. I saw Eric, Joanne and Mary, looking bright and chipper at breakfast and returned Joanne's scarf. They were ready to get back on the trail! I couldn't eat much, but choked down a few scrambled eggs and tried to start walking. I didn't get as far as the entrance to the Ranch and had to go back. I was able to get a bed for that night, which is unusual because reservations are made far in advance. I slept most of Sunday.

Later in the afternoon, I saw Mandi giving a history talk to a group of campers and joined them. I thought I would plead my case again and see if I could get a mule ride out. After the talk, a young man monopolized Ranger Mandi with endless questions. As long as I was sitting and not walking, I was happy. My legs didn't hurt. I was just so tired. Finally, Mandi sat with me and told me my option. Option. Not options. She asked what I had eaten that day and I said I had some eggs at breakfast. She then invited me to the Ranger Station for scrambled eggs that evening! When I arrived, Senior Ranger Ed spent some time with me and said he would let me hike to Indian Gardens, spend the night, eat a meal there and start back again on Tuesday! It sounded like a fantastic deal. He told me to watch for him on the trail on Monday and if I got into trouble he would be along on his way to Indian Gardens, too.

Monday morning, I started out with several bags of pretzels, nuts and fruit and a cream cheese bagel. I was walking and trying to choke down some bagel, when the young man from Sunday afternoon, Andrew, caught up with me. He asked how I was doing and I told him not so good. So he said, "Well, here. Let me take your backpack!" Andrew had plans to walk as far as Indian Gardens and camp the night there. Unbelievable! In short, that is what happened. We walked and talked and before I knew it, we arrived at Indian Gardens and it was only 11:00 a.m.! We had navigated the hottest part of the trail before it got hot! But there was no sign of Ranger Ed. There was no sign of any ranger at all.

Andrew went to find a camp site and set up. I hung around the information station and lay down on a bench, with my head on my backpack. I heard male voices and asked one of the men if he were a ranger. He replied, "Not unless I have to be." So I lay back down to wait for Ed. I heard some commotion on the trail nearby and saw a woman lying on her back with a cloth over her face, while her three friends seemed to be wondering what to do in a language I couldn't understand. I walked over (never too tired to mind somebody else's business) and asked in French what language they were speaking. Ha. As t turned out, it was French. So I told them I would call le ranger. The dispatcher said she would send someone. Who showed up? Mr. I-am-only-a-ranger-if-I-have-to-be! The woman had started to rally when he arrived. They were on their way out of the canyon when she became ill, so Ranger Bill says he'll give her a flashlight so she can get started walking out. The sun was setting and they had only reached the half-way point. Even so, they took the flashlight and started walking.

I followed Ranger Bill back to the Ranger Station and told him I was supposed to meet Ranger Ed there.

“Ed's not coming.”

“But he told me to meet him here.”

“His schedule was changed.”

“Did he say anything about me?”

“He said you were coming.”

“What should I do?”

“Start walking.”

“I can't do that.”

“Sure you can. You're no sicker than the woman who just left.”

“How can you possibly know how sick I am?”

“I've been a Ranger a long time.”

When he realized he couldn't convince me to leave, he gave me a child's sleepover sleeping bag. The kind you take to a slumber party. Not the kind you sleep in outdoors on a cold night. He also gave me a hard foam pad to put under the sleeping bag and pointed to a picnic table, far from Andrew and the other campers. He told me to sleep on the table to avoid the scorpions. But he gave me no food and no flashlight. The other campers had metal boxes to keep their food in to keep the rodents out. I just had my heavy duty backpack, for which I had not been grateful until this moment.

During the night a wind came roaring down the canyon and the temperature dropped considerably. The sleeping bag was no match for that. Even though the little information cabin was nearby, I didn't want to make Ranger Bill angry by taking my things inside. Rangers can actually fine people who go into the canyon without being able to get back out. And he had made several comments about people you are foolish and ill-prepared. I will get in line for that group, but I had really tried to prepare and was really doing as well as possible under the circumstances despite being foolish and ill-prepared.

As soon as there was any light, I grabbed my stuff and started out, still trying to finish that bagel! And there was Andrew, offering to take my backpack again. I felt like he had already saved my life by getting me this far and didn't want to impose any more. We had met a group from Intel, who were trying to set some time records and I saw how exciting that was to Andrew. I knew he wanted to try that too and I was holding him back. He had his own backpack full of his camping gear. But Andrew just laughed and grabbed my pack.

Every time I wanted to stop to catch my breath, Andrew would say we could rest just around the next turn, or that there would be a better place to rest in a little while. He talked about everything: his family, school, jobs, girlfriends, hopes and dreams and the miles passed. He wanted to be out of the canyon by noon and we rounded the last corner at 12:10 p.m.! Ranger Bill passed us on the trail, huffing and puffing (almost everyone does, except possibly the guy from Intel who came down from the North Rim and up Bright Angel Trail to the top in 5 hours!) and made a sarcastic comment on Andrew carrying my bag for me. Ranger Bill is not typical.

My mother said that one of my very first sentences was “I do it myself!” And I've pretty much lived my life by that statement. But I sometimes find that I just can't. This was one of those times. So thanks Rangers Mandi and Ed, Andrew Bishop, Angie and Jake and the hikers along the trail who shared, like Eric, Joanne and Mary and three blond chicks from Little Rock, who gave me one of their neck scarves to replace the one I returned to Eric.

If I hadn't promised not to die in the canyon, I might have given up.

Here's the thing: " The best laid schemes o' Mice an' Men,
Gang aft agley." Robert Burns

Andrew Bishop and I at the end of the hike, Tuesday, September 22nd.