Grand Canyon R2R2R 2019

A barrage of rockfall startles me as I slowly plod upwards towards the North Rim of the Grand Canyon. Rocks rain down crashing through the trees landing in a pile at the base of a cliff where the trail turns a switchback. Parts of the North Kaibab Trail are littered with rocks and boulders and a sign posted earlier warned: “Look and listen for falling rocks…A trail crew is currently working on the slopes…there is a high potential for rockfall. Use caution when hiking in this zone.” Well, what does that mean? Use caution? What am I supposed to do when rocks come down? I didn’t bring my hard hat.

Rocks litter the N. Kaibab Trail

According to the National Park Service, North Kaibab Trail is the least visited and most difficult trail in the park because the north rim is 1000’ higher in elevation than the south rim and, in places, the precipitous trail has been blasted into the canyon walls, "literally hewn from solid rock in half-tunnel sections.” The trails in this park are an engineering marvel. When you see where you are going or where you’ve been, it’s hard to imagine how a trail is even possible. 

The trails were built with tools that were hauled in by mules. The G.C. Association writes, “To create [Supai Tunnel], NPS crews had to blast the path from solid rock using dynamite, portable drills, and jackhammers, employing techniques they had learned from constructing the South Kaibab Trail.”

Sunrise from S. Kaibab Trail

Well, I started before sunup from the Mather Campground on the South Rim and have been running and hiking for over seven hours already. The morning was comfortable with some clouds and about 35 degrees. The temperature warmed up though, as I descended the S. Kaibab Trail into the canyon. Although it was dark, I didn’t have any trouble seeing the trail with my headlamp. The sunrise was amazing; bathing the vivid canyon walls in a wash of gold light. Several runners passed me and I passed a few groups of hikers on the way down. Brittlebush, with their bright yellow flowers, were abundant along the trail as I approached the bottom of the canyon 5000’ below the S. Rim.

Sunrise S. Kaibab Trail

S. Kaibab Trail

After some time the Colorado River and the suspension bridge known simply as the Black Bridge, came into view. Prior to the construction of this bridge in 1928, the only way mules and people could cross the river was in a swinging metal cage suspended by cable above the river. The bridge is another engineering marvel and testament to the hardiness of the workers who built it. The G.C. Association writes,  "The one-ton, 550-foot-long suspension cables were carried down the canyon on the shoulders of 42 Havasupai tribesmen who walked single file down the trail while carrying the cables." Remember that the next time you use the bridge on your Grand Canyon adventure.

Brittlebush and the Black Bridge

I passed through a tunnel and walked across the bridge stopping to take in the view of the mighty river that’s been slicing through the stratified rock for eons. I ran along the river and turned north where I filled my water bottles at the Phantom Ranch. I continued on the North Kaibab Trail which parallels the Bright Angel Creek passing Ribbon Falls, a narrow stream of water shooting out of a crack in the canyon wall. 

Phantom Ranch

In the early days, before a reroute, this trail had more than 90 creek crossings, but now travels a better route that includes seven footbridges. There is still one scary stream crossing though, because you must ford a side creek at the top of a swift waterfall. The water was very fast flowing when I arrived this morning because of much snowfall this year. A slip would have meant a plunge over the fall and into the frothy torrent below. I pulled out my trekking poles to help keep my balance as I crossed and have been using them on my ascent to the N. Rim.

One of the seven bridges on N. Kaibab Trail

The scary waterfall crossing

I was very hot by this point so stopped at Cottonwood Campground where there is a ranger station under a stand of cottonwood trees. I ate some food and reorganized my pack because I had taken off several shirts and zipped off the legs of my wind pants and attached them to my hydration vest. Shortly I reached the Manzanita Rest Area where I filled my water bottles again. 

This is where the trail got very interesting. I started to climb out of the canyon and on the right side was a roaring cascade spewing directly out of the canyon wall. Roaring Springs actually provides all the water for the national park via a pump house and pipe under the trail that carries the water to the developed areas. As I continued on there were several more smaller gushers coming out of the wall like water spewing from a gargoyle’s mouth.

Roaring Springs

The towering canyon walls were very dramatic the higher I climbed and the colors were spectacular. Dun in the lower elevations and bright red tinged with green vegetation and grey outcrops higher up. At times the trail paralleled the sheer canyon wall and was only a few feet from a precipitous drop off into the abyss below. The Grand Canyon is definitely a dangerous place; just a few days ago a person had a very unfortunate accident and died by falling into the canyon. While running rim to rim is dangerous, it’s not nearly as dangerous as driving on the freeway to get to the trailhead. Just remember to keep your wits about you and be very careful when using your selfie stick; the person who died was apparently a tourist taking pictures at Yavapai Point Overlook by the geology museum. My deepest condolences to the family.

I continued running along the ledge being extra cautious not to trip or lose my balance. There were frequent bright red vertical cirques where water was pouring down onto the trail. I reached a footbridge where I was stopped several years ago when I attempted my first R2R2R run. A trail crew was working in this area and rocks were crashing down so the trail was closed. I vowed to return another year to take care of unfinished business so here I am.

N. Kaibab Trail and footbridge

I crossed the bridge and continued slogging upwards peering up at the rim wondering how the hell I was going to make it up there. I couldn’t see a trail and didn’t know which part of the rim I was headed toward. All I could see was sheer vertical walls all around and then I heard the rockfall crashing through the trees. I looked over and saw a milk crate-sized block plummeting through the air. Gravity is definitely a thing! 

Like I said earlier, the trail here is littered with large rocks so I move quickly through this area. I reach a large heap of rockfall covering the trail and have to climb over it and between several huge boulders. I use my trekking poles to help keep my balance and make it through without incident. 

Supai Tunnel

I climb higher and higher passing under another waterfall that trickles down onto my back cooling me off. As I look down into the canyon I can see the bridge and twisty ribbon of pathway that brought me here. I reach Supai Tunnel and pass through the red rock where a zebra striped cliff greets me on the other side. Black streaks of desert varnish have run down the sheer wall for thousands of years creating the interesting pattern of stripes. 

I reach a steep series of switchbacks from hell and slowly zig and zag my way upwards. Some runners are coming back down and say, "Good job!" as I plod upwards. I pass one guy sitting on a rock taking a rest from the brutal climb. I am very winded at this point and look at my gps altimeter that reads over 7000’. I still have 1000’ to climb. 

I reach some patches of snow on the side of the wet trail and then the trail itself becomes covered in heaps of icy snow. Some more runners come bombing down slipping and sliding so I try my best to get out of their way. My trekking poles are very useful in helping keep my balance on the ice. I reach the Coconino Overlook, a good resting place with great views of the canyon. 

I continue my slow steady grind traversing several more snow mounds. I pass another guy who is resting on the side of the trail. He’s very out of breath and looks absolutely miserable. “This is no joke, huh? Come on brother, we’re almost there”, I say, hoping to motivate him. I also feel pretty horrible and start to wonder how I’m going to get myself up to the N. Rim, back to the other side of this ancient chasm, and up to the S. Rim. I keep going nevertheless and climb up another snowbank trying not to slip into the crotch deep post holes created by hikers who’ve punched through the icy crust.

Finally I make it to the top of the N. Rim where some other folks are resting and eating by the N. Kaibab Trail sign. The interpretive sign states that in 1902, it took cartographer Francois Matthes six days to travel from the Colorado River to this very spot. Thanks to the workers who built the N. Kaibab Trail it only took me about six hours! I take a few pictures of the snowy winter wonderland and head back down.

I take a short break at the Coconino overlook to eat some fruit and take in the view. Far in the distance looms Humphreys Peak (12,633’), the top shrouded in clouds. I feel much more confident and less winded since I’m going down now. I return to the tunnel and pass the waterfall where the sun is glimmering off the tumbling water. 

Humphreys Peak

I get to the rockfall area and move as quickly as possible until I reach a mound of loose rocks and boulders. I climb up on the outside of the heap and suddenly the entire thing shifts with the weight of my body causing a rock slide. I quickly run forward off the mound, but an avalanche of large rocks slides off the mountain and goes crashing down the cliff face. Hopefully they didn’t land on anyone below, but I won’t know until I descend the switchbacks.

I swiftly continue down and see several hikers below and ahead of me who seem to be moving;  fortunately I didn’t kill anyone with the rockslide that I created. I run along the edge of the red cliffs all the while enjoying the tremendous scenery. I go lower into the canyon where the temperature and humidity rise. I drink plenty of water to try to stave off dehydration, but soon my bottles run dry. In a little while I reach Manzanita though, where I’m able to refill with that wonderful Roaring Springs H2O. 

My shirt is soaked through and the afternoon sun is beating down. I keep a steady pace running along Bright Angel Creek and pass through the Cottonwood Camp. I get to the scary stream crossing above the waterfall and take my time lest I go plunging over the waterfall becoming the fourth casualty at the Grand Canyon in a week. Yes, several others also perished when they fell off the western part of the S. Rim. The most frequent cause of death this week seems to be death by selfie. Be careful when you visit!

Anyway, I make it through the creek with no problem other than having cold wet feet. I continue running along the side of the stream. The route is mostly downhill, but one section near Ribbon Falls takes me away from the watercourse and over a steep hill. I run in the heat for what seems like forever longing to reach the Phantom Ranch. 

Ribbon Falls

I’ve done my best all day to stay “in the moment” and am reminded of a book I’ve recently read. Running With The Mind of Meditation by marathon runner and spiritual leader Sakyong Mipham Rinpoche, teaches that when we run, we should focus on our breath and run mindfully staying in the moment so we can truly get the most enjoyment out of our adventure. Wishing to be at the Phantom Ranch or worrying about how I’m going to climb out of this canyon on spent legs is counterproductive. Focusing on your breathing as in a sitting meditation brings more joy and happiness to your life. Easier said than done when you are 40 miles into a brutal journey, but I try anyway and concentrate on my breathing and the beauty all around me. 

Phlox

Wildflowers are plentiful here. I especially like the mariposa lilies with their three large pink petals with orange and yellow center. I also enjoy the red indian paintbrush, yellow twinpod, white phlox and purple milkvetch. The sound of the babbling brook is soothing to my ears even though I have a sharp pain between my shoulder blades from being on my feet for over 12 hours. I acknowledge the pain, but stay on my breath.

Indian paintbrush

Mariposa Lily

The heat is intense especially when I’m in full sun. The canyon walls create a bit if shade at times, but I’m sweating profusely from the sultry air. I reach the series of foot bridges and know that I’m getting close to the ranch, but it still feels like time has stopped.

Twinpod

Eventually I make it to Phantom where I refill my bottles. A group of hungry tourists are patiently waiting for the caretakers to open the dining hall for the 5:00 steak dinner. Many have ridden the mule pack train down to spend the night in the canyon. I don’t dawdle and head out promptly knowing that I have a 5000’ climb ahead of me. 

I run along the creek and pass a campground on the other side. I pick up the Bright Angel Trail that takes me along the Colorado River and to another suspension bridge simply known as the Silver Bridge. The water pipe from Roaring Springs actually runs underneath the bridge and pipes around 500,000 gallons of water per day to the Grand Canyon Village on the S. Rim, so remember that the next time you are enjoying a cold glass of water after taking selfies or running R2R2R.

Silver bridge

I climb onto the bridge and it is swaying in the wind which is somewhat distressing. The view is amazing though, so I stop for some pictures. After crossing, I run along the river and through some deep sand. I smell a charcoal fire and wonder where it’s coming from. In a short while I’m high enough to look down on the river and see a flotilla of river boats moored along the shore with folks setting up camp for the evening. 

I leave the river and start up the trail towards the rim. It’s gradual at first following Garden Creek with many picturesque waterfalls singing merrily through a garden of rocks. In no time though, I climb an insane number of steep switchbacks known as Devil’s Corkscrew which brings me up to the Tonto Platform, a bench that separates the inner gorge from the upper rim.

Garden Creek

Devil's Corkscrew

Tonto Platform

I’m completely beat by this point, but try my best to run when I can. Sometimes I stop for a short while to take in the view since it will be dark before long. The sheer immensity of this place, with its many lofty rock formations, side canyons, temples and buttes, is beyond comprehension and makes me realize how insignificant I am in relation to what surrounds me. 

View from S. Rim, Indian Garden bottom center

I continue along the trail and creek which creates a rich riparian zone in an otherwise deserty landscape. Marshy areas lush with grasses, reeds and rushes line the watercourse and the largest cottonwood trees I’ve ever seen tower above the trail. I believe this is my favorite section of my entire trip. I pass a redbud tree teeming with purple blooms complimented by the surrounding greenery of the cottonwoods hemmed in on both sides by cliffs of stratified layers of shale.

Indian Garden redbud tree

I make it to the Indian Garden Campground where there’s another water filling station. Campers and hikers are gathered around it so I sit down to take a rest and wait my turn. People ask where I started and where I’ve been so I tell them that I’m at mile 46 of my rim to rim to rim adventure. Several weary hikers ask me how long it will take them to climb back up to the S. Rim. I tell them it’s about five miles so at least two hours, but probably three. They look a little concerned since the sun is setting and they take off up the trail.

I chat some more with the campers, fill my bottles, dig my headlamp out of my pack and get on my way. The air cools as the sun wanes, but I’m still sweating from the arduous task at hand —climbing out of the Grand Canyon. I keep a steady pace though, and pass the hikers that I spoke to earlier. I turn on my headlamp and trudge on where I hit Jacob’s Ladder, another series of seemingly endless switchbacks. I pass some hikers who are sitting by the trail resting. 

I make it to Three-Mile Rest House, but dare not sit down for fear of not being able to get up and moving again. Time stands still, but I try to practice "nowness" and enjoy the ride even though I can’t see anything. That is until mysterious lights appear from the N. Rim. They seem to be in pairs and I wonder if they are hikers’ headlamps high on the cliffs, car headlights or some other phenomena. I switch off my light and the dark sky is alive with millions of shimmering stars. Amazing!

I keep slogging on where the pain between my shoulders is unbearable at times. I raise my poles over my head or let them hang by my sides which brings a little bit of relief. My legs feel like rubber and I grow more winded the higher I climb. 

I approach the 1.5-Mile Rest House and see two eyes glowing in the distance. A mammal scampers along a wall and into the brush. I train my headlamp on it and see that it’s a ringtail also known as a ringtail-cat. He’s probably cleaning up all the goodies that hikers have dropped while snacking here during the day. The ringtail has large eyes and a long tail that is ringed with alternating white and black stripes. They are actually not cats, but related to raccoons and are excellent climbers. In fact, their hind legs can rotate 180 degrees to enable them to scale walls, trees and cliffs.

I continue zigging and zagging my way up the canyon wall hoping that I’m near the end, but every time I turn another corner there is more trail ahead of me. I pass another struggling hiker who asks If we are getting close, but I’m so tired and winded that I can’t even muster enough energy to say a single word.

Everything’s dark except for one shining beacon of light high above me. Is that the rim or another hiker’s headlamp? There’s no way to know so I just stay "mindful" and make sure to enjoy every step of this miserable climb. I pass through a tunnel and get excited because I know there is a tunnel at the very end of the trail, but I can’t remember how many tunnels there are.

The tunnel on Bright Angel Trail

I keep going, but there is no rim in sight. I keep climbing up and up and up, higher and higher. Finally…finally…I see several headlamps coming toward me and I’m greeted by several ladies who tell me that I’m almost there, “the final tunnel is just ahead.”, they say. It still feels like forever because I’m so exhausted, but the Kolb Brother’s Photography Studio comes into view and I’m back on top of the S. Rim after more than 16.5 hours. My gps watch reads 51 miles with over 11,000’ of elevation gain.

Kolb Brother's Studio

The Grand Canyon will change your life forever no matter how you experience it. Running rim to rim to rim is an epic adventure that I’ll never forget and am grateful that I’m healthy enough to take on such endeavors. I never take my health for granted and feel blessed that I was able to safely complete my double crossing of this very special place. Now if I could just get a better angle with this selfie stick…maybe over here on the other side of this railing…this crumbly rock ledge might do…

See you on the trail.