Grand Canyon- A New Reverence

July 18, 2024

All water was shut off because a pipe blew and the strain of dehydration I can still feel from the swollen roof of my mouth - but I am alive. Last night my body started to go into shock. It was so cold all of a sudden, and I started to shiver, my legs tightening up with cramps in my calves that felt like someone was wringing them out like towels. A tightening in my left hip then stung like a hot coal was placed right between my hip flexor. An ache in my rear delts condensed them to feel like two rods on each side of my spine. In the dizziness of exhaustion, I took out a liquid IV from my pack quickly, put it in my water, and took out the emergency bivy to wrap myself in. I sat there on the side of the road bundled up, sipping the drink with my headlamp on. I was alive and stranded, and it was funny. It felt like one of those ridiculous stories you casually mention to your kids when they ask you about what you did in your twenties. I started to drift into sleep as my body made it mandatory to feel every muscle. I didn't even know if it was pain anymore. I thanked God for showing me the kindness of strangers and the safety and strength to have finished such a feat. I drifted finally to sleep for 2 hours and awoke to the sun peeking over the canyon and someone singing in the background. All soreness a sweet reminder of a trail worth every step.

The first seven miles was all downhill on thin ledges where looking over I couldn’t see anything but the blackness of a death drop. I was nervous with the only thing in sight a narrow ledge. Would I die today crossed my mind a few times. Some may call the steps I took forward in spite of those thoughts crazy, some courage, some stupid. I don’t have a name for why except  I started so early in the morning that there were thousands of stars and just the sound of my footsteps and breathing. That as I looked up at the infinite of stars mirrored by the infinite of nothing below me there was me in the middle knowing this is a good place to be.

 The sunrise began peeking over the canyon's horizon.  I could finally see the narrow pass where nothing but the vast depth surrounded me. Light transformed the walls to red with highlights of glowing orange hughes. The sky was the deep royal blue in dawn breaking, making the purple and reds deepen in a filtering light as I descended. The incessant switchbacks made my quads feel like a small golf ball was pressing its way between my muscles. The red sand was holding onto my boots after each sinking step. I kept repeating that one more switchback and Ill take off the layers I wore for the slightly colder temps and put on sunblock.

 I heard the clicking hooves of the postal mules in the distance. I looked up and saw them. It was a motivation to a solo hiker. It felt like a race to get to an open spot that would allow me to let them pass by on the trail. Finally I found a rounder point that stuck out from the trail and I stood there waiting and watching their artistry of a 100 year old train system. An older cowboy took the rear and a younger handsome and rouged face the front. The latter no acknowledgement other than the look of stay out the way was given and I had no quarrel as their job was tough. The rear-men tipped his hat with a good morning greeting like he was happy to see me. Reminded me of my grandpa. They kept moving down the canyon wall at a quick and steady pace that I wanted to use as a guide for how fast I should move. I tried my best to keep up but the slow increased decline of 5,000+ ft down was tempting me to tople over.I knew that if I kept going I was going to give myself no choice but to go through the canyon. A few times as the heat began to rise I felt myself question if I wanted to stop and head back up. To not finish and still be proud of 10000 ft difference in 10 miles instead of 21.6. I was alone. Water was in question. 

Until I saw a glimpse of the Colorado river. the tealish green blue powering through Rock gave me a sense of just what was to come. seeing the river carving the canyon gave me a sense of momentum I needed to get to Phantom ranch.

Phantom was quiet and had an almost home-like quality beckoning the tired hiker. It was barely sunrise and the camp was not yet awake except for some of the staff who were sweeping and taking care of their morning chores. That morning’s sky made a poem. 

Oh! How amazing it is

that God made you and I

amongst His design.

Thousands of stars,

canyons at the hands of great rivers,

the whisper of light between trees,

the vastness and power of oceans,

and God took it furthur to add you and me.

I gave myself a 30 minute break to eat a good amount of calories and write my postcard that would be delivered by mule. I also met Jake who I eventually ran into a couple times he is also doing the rim to rim and eventually went ahead of me. I packed up from Phantom to get started on hiking through the box.

The Box

The Box was such a befitting name for the hottest part of the canyon.  Walls so close together in a zig zagged shape and only the width of a shipping container that heat gets trapped in. I could feel the warmth as I hiked further and further in. It was an odd place in the desert these streams that made the bottom here still green. The creeks flowed and trying to find its way to the colorado river. I wanted out of the box, the sun fully risen and rising higher to cook me. I hustled so hard through those three to four miles  that I got through it in under an hour. My body could feel the heat and this was where I realized there was no way back. I would have to climb out of here to the other side. I prayed a little as I passed the second of four bridges and the words reverence slipped out of my mouth. I found reverence for the Lord in the way He has not forsaken what I have done. On my hikes I don’t listen to music or anything just pray and list through all the names I have known. Sometimes I  am surprised on who comes up. But this hike I haven’t thought about another person or prayed for another name, like every breath was saying Yahweh. 

Was I going to take the mile detour to see Ribbon Falls? The difficulty of the decision lay with the fact it was getting into that 10:00 a.m. to 4:00 p.m. window where they advised not to hike. They had also taken out the bridge which meant crossing into the fast-moving creek and blind navigating with no signal. I kept my eyes peeled searching for a sign that it was close. Shade was starting to get scarce. The canyon was starting to open up and so the geological structure of this section was changing. The trail started to become sandy again but this time it felt like desert. The only relief was the occasional tall rock formation that retained the sun's kiss. I was giving way to the flushed heat of my core and a headache was rolling its way forward from the back of my skull. The idea of resting in a spigot and cooling off was so tempting; until I saw a glimpse of the emerald moss watered by the crystal-like waterfall. Like gravity was pulling me I blinked and was off the trail trying to find a way to it.

I got my shoes wet (a bit involuntarily), and dragged myself through razor grass, through unmarked land I was blindly navigating. I even rock climbed to try and stay on something that resembled a trail or was hopefully walked on enough by those able to find the falls. Otherwise, we were all tired fools trying to find this oasis. I climbed numerous rocks, crossed more small creeks, and was misled by those tired trails of footsteps that didn’t make it.  I almost began to cry of tired frustration like a child knowing it was near but unable to reach. I turned another corner of rock hoping it had to be close and dropped to my knees at the site of the falls at last. It was as if God had graced here and turned it into an eternal resting place for the lost, hungry, and tired. It was a picture of revival as my aching body moved like it was attempting to run to it. I fumbled the straps of my backpack trying to get it off fast enough. The excitement and heat in my body were welling up it almost made me anxious. I let go of my trekking poles and peeled off my shoes. I climbed into the water enjoying the refreshing bath as I finally brought down my temperature. I climbed up to behind the waterfall and I felt like the king of the world. It was an immense amount of respite for my spirit which was ultimately what was going to get me out of the canyon.

 I stayed for about an hour and finally went on my way running into others that were also looking for the waterfall. looking just as defeated as I had been. I then went on my own difficult adventure of not trying to backtrack to where I crossed and instead found where the bridge used to be. I climbed over again on the fast-moving Creek and rock-climbed up to the main trail. as I kept going 

I started to feel with that extra mile and some change took out of me. The heat of my body was rising and I took refuge under any shade I could find. I couldn’t wait out the heat as much as I had wanted to and this was the last hour of the hottest part of the day. I could feel my cheeks flush and my water started to run low. The slight hills that led me up and down a path that was going right through this straight I couldn’t see. Still having about 6.5 miles left I was begging my body to take me to Cottonwood which was the first of four resting spots on the incline up. The most discouraging part was knowing this incline was not taking me up Canyon wall which meant the brutality of the last four miles was going to pressure the body to a breaking point. I started to realize that after looking at my all trails that I had only climbed 950 ft that each of those last four miles was going to be climbing a thousand feet each. after what felt like eternity I hit cottonwood. These last four trail markers of rest stops were all made as markers for the hiker because these last miles were where the mind was tested. I put my stuff down and lay on the bench of a picnic table. the ranger station was there but no one was in sight inside or on the campground. I assessed my body no cramping had started or dizziness. even my headache from earlier was gone. I felt good enough I only rested for 7 minutes and checked the water spout in a hopeful try to know luck. I kept going. the moment my body felt outside of shade it begged to stop for a little more. I took it slower, for every 50 to 100 yards I started to find a rock with relative shade for being an Arizona Canyon desert and rested for 2 to 5 minutes. My body was getting to a point that it couldn’t take it. I was starting to not be okay.

I saw the peak of the last bridge which meant the next rest stop was near and the climb up the canyon wall was coming. the worry about water was starting to weigh on me a bit. I was going to start climbing steep Trail which probably meant no access to water and by the looks of the time I needed enough water for maybe three more hours. This last stretch was going to be a risk with absolutely no water and I  refused to be a rescue. My eyes searched with an anxiety for any spot I could climb down to get water. any place with enough larger Rock because the sediment was so fine I knew I would slide down and have no way up. finally about 20 yards from the bridge there was a spot I could climb down. Steep but possible. I took off my pack and got out the Powerade bottle I was saving with electrolights and slid down the small Cliff. I took the big step off and luckily Landing with no injury climbed my way down to the creek. I filled the bottle and thought maybe this wouldn't be enough but settled for anything. I tried to climb back up the small 20-foot cliff but my hands kept pulling away large chunks of rock with every grasp for a way up. I tried to throw the bottle up with fatigue but it came down. Unable to catch it and started to roll back down. Part of me thought of leaving it there but knew better. Sluggishly I got the water and tried a difficult but different route, threw the bottle again and made both the throw and the climb. I didn't bother to rest I knew with a gut feeling that after the bridge Manzanita, the next rest area was close. I grabbed my pack and with barely a liter of water made my way past the bridge and got to Manzanita. I threw my backpack off in haste and lay on the bench. It finally hit 4:00 p.m. which meant that the weather was finally at its best to start hiking again. I lay there contemplating how crazy this was. my mouth was dry, my lips chapped, and getting my first cramp in my hip flexor. I knew I wasn't going to make the shuttle to the lodge and I didn't care. I only wanted to prioritize my body and make it out alive and without a need for a trip to the emergency room. Worst came to worst I was going to sleep at the trailhead in my emergency biv. I settled on that and stood up and went to the chalkboard where other hikers left messages of starting or finishing their rim-to-rim. Next to the dehydration warning signs and map, I signed my name.

My spirit only knew of two options. Finishing or death. The incline put pressure on my legs, my hip and unexpectedly my back. I had such an intense cramp in my middle back right at my delts. I tried to use my trekking poles to bring myself every steep step but I started to hit sand again. Every step was a small slide backward as I sunk into the ground. I kept looking up in hopes that I could spot the top of the canyon where this would end. But when there are layers upon layers of colors of millions of year old rock you can't tell if it's all trail. I scanned each line trying to find where the next point of Trail was and when I saw it drop off I scanned again. it was futile. I kept moving. still looking up in Hope but every so often looking back at the vastness of what I already conquered. It made me taste the end, masking the dryness of my throat. I yearned for the finish line more than the hopefully working water spout that waited there. No one would be there. This was for me. I was reaching the two miles left and the sun officially was starting to set. I stopped right at the beginning of another switchback where a small trickle of water hugged the canyon wall teasing me. I even considered it. Instead I drank the last of the clean water from my water bladder and took out my little straw to check how it worked. of course it didn't fit in my Powerade bottle which meant every time I wanted to drink it would have to be unpacking my water bladder to maneuver it so I could put the LifeStraw and drink. after pouring the Powerade bottle of Lake water into the bladder I saw it was about a half liter. so much less then I thought I had grabbed but so much more than nothing. the last few miles this was all of my water for a body that begged. I was approaching the point of not sweating anymore despite the 90° weather. I slung my backpack back on and fumbled a bit to pick up my trekking poles. dusk was hitting the canyon and the darkness was going to come soon bringing the need for my headlamp. I know I only had about 15 minutes even though the sky was a bit more luminescent, because like the forest the sun sets quicker here. The incessant climb of the next quarter mile felt forever in my back was spasming to the point of every step I had to take I stayed hunched over trying to find a movement or stretch of relief. on the next big step I stay hunched and not even thinking I cried out I'm sorry Lord. It was an overwhelming and honest truth. For all that I had done and failed to do I was sorry. A few more steps and I practically collapsed of my own will onto a rock first tapping for any harm and began to take out my headlamp and the first few sips of water from the life straw. it wasn't bad the water. I only took maybe four six wanting to conserve. I checked my map and I had about a mile and a half left. I needed calories and I wanted out of here. I took out an energy Gu gel took half and one more sip of water hoping my body would launch itself to use the sustenance rather than make me vomit. I packed up and kept moving. headlamp on and trekking poles digging into the ground I bit into the Earth feeling how uphill it was and getting and now knowing just how deep the drop off was having seen it in the daylight. any swaying or dizziness I knew I needed to stop to not accidentally fall. I looked up at The Rising Moon and gave actually quite a bit of light and I felt my stomach starting to cramp for want of water. I wanted to reach only a mile left. a few steps feeling like eternity. I got to the one mile Mark and didn't even check the ground or a rock to sit. I couldn't get my pack off fast enough. I laid down right there in the Sandy dirt. I took out my water bladder and life straw. I took one large gulp looked at what was left and I saw that I couldn't have more than maybe two more sips. the matter of time and how long this hike was taking me didn't bother me as much then I thought it was. other than what was a reasonable amount of fatigue I felt good. I began to see how much I took care of my body. I thought I would finish feeling like a badass and tough which albeit I am but I felt so peaceful and gentle and like the most feminine version of myself. I have never been that gentle with my body. This time though it was peace but kept with me. I barely thought of anything during this hike. prayed but not many words. I didn't really even think of anyone let alone a boy that broke my heart or one I am in love with. I am such a different person since starting this journey to trying to hike this canyon. I am so different than the person who started hiking in the first place. that woman who woke up on a Saturday during a rainstorm to climb Mount Tam praying that God talks to me versus now is someone who hikes the Grand Canyon in step with god with reverence and humility. I giggled at how made knew I am and how much I moved forward. I took the rest of the goo energy gel and the last two big gulps of water. I got up and felt the overbearing cramps in my back, my stomach and now hit flexor. the dryness of my throat making my voice to No One sound like it's been missing for weeks. I started to approach the last bit of switchbacks and the last 1,000 ft of climbing I turned the corner and heard the subtle Whisper of a rattle. 

I stopped dead in pure tiredness and no fear for the fatigue made me unwavering and I scanned for the possibility of dying a mile before finishing which was laughable. there she was a baby rattlesnake climbing the canyon wall to my left side I moved a step again and she rattled another warning. I didn't pause to say hello and kept going knowing the end of the trail and more importantly water was ahead. 

I climbed and climbed, only allowing myself two breaks. I felt I was getting closer to the trailhead, and slowly as it approached, I grabbed for the finish line with an exhausted "I did it." I threw off my pack, grabbed the extra water bottle I had, and lunged for the water. The cool water spilled over as it filled so fast in my water bottle. I wanted to put my mouth under the faucet and dunk my head. I took three large gulps and filled the bottle to the top again. I stopped my AllTrails map to complete the time; my total was about 19 hours, but my moving time was 12 hours, 47 minutes, and 39 seconds, 21.55 miles and some change uncalculated. 6,749 ft in elevation gain. I staggered between sitting and standing, not wanting the shock of lactic acid.