Crash and Burn

My apologies in advance if this piece feels rushed.  Immediately following my return to the south rim and while washing the layers of tan, orange and brown dust off my legs (let's be honest, there was vomit on them too) I promised myself I would put into detail my experience in the canyon.  I felt at the time it was important to share the lessons I had learned in the canyon with others as well as documenting the journey for myself to reflect on in later years. But as so often the case with me, my gaze is directed at the trail immediately before me and within a couple of days afterward I had figured out what I had done wrong and was ready to move on.  Also, while my memory is not what it use to be, I am fortunate in that I remember quite a bit of detail from the majority of my runs, especially the bucket list ones like this. All I need to do is look at my Strava track, or a picture and the memories will come flooding back.  What I ate, the gear that worked and didn't work, the weather, how my feet felt, what wildlife I saw.  All sitting neatly in my head ready to be recalled.  Great for me but not so much for others who want to learn from your experiences.

Profile of the route

So I find myself in front of the keyboard with a promise to muscle my way through the the documentation of this desert journey.  I failed to complete the R2R2R in the Grand Canyon last week but looking back on it now I am greeted with the feeling that perhaps this was the experience I was meant to have.  That all the routes and goals I had given myself in the proceeding six months had come too easily and I needed to be reminded of just how resilient we are when faced with adversity.  Now don't get me wrong, I never felt like I was in serious danger during this "run". But I believe looking back that was because I made the right choices along the way especially the one just 700 vertical feet below the North Rim of the Canyon.  The 22 mile return to my starting point on the South Rim easily had the lowest points I have ever felt while in the outdoors.  But during those very uncomfortable moments, I still know what I needed to do to keep moving and to continue to be able to extract myself from the situation.  The confidence I gained by being able to successfully navigate both the physical and mental challenges on the route are in my opinion far more valuable than putting a check next to a line on the bucket list.

Looking over the route

The night before embarking on the attempt, we stayed at the Kachina Lodge on the South Rim of the Canyon.  We arrived around three and to be honest, though I had told myself we were walking into a tourist trap on the South Rim, I was not prepared for what we encountered.  It felt like a four ring circus to a guy like me who actively looks for solitude in the wild.  But we were able to quickly check in to the lodge, find a parking spot and haul our gear into our room. From there we took a quick trip along the rim to find the Bright Angel trailhead.  It was about a quarter of a mile from the lodge and despite the throngs of people, peering down the edge of the Canyon and seeing the trail laid out before me thousands of feet below filled me with excitement. On the other side of the canyon you could see the route towards the North Rim.  Seeing it all laid out before me is one of my favorite moments on the trail.  The uncertainty of what you will encounter, a curiosity of how you will perform during the task, and the wonder of the grandness of the landscape around you.  These are the                                                                            feelings that inspire me to attempt such acts.

Once I had my bearings, we made our way to the lounge at the lodge, had a couple of drinks then made our way to the dining room.  I usually eat everything in my path the day before something like this but on this occasion I didn't eat as much as I usually do.  I didn't worry much about it though as I knew I had plenty of calories to take along the way.  After dinner we hoped to snag some ice cream but were about 15 minutes too late.  So it was back to the room.  I quickly prepped everything for the morning and set my alarm for 3 AM.  Usually the night before something like this, I don't sleep well but I was able to get some good sleep waking up just 15 minutes before my alarm went off.  I dressed quickly, applied some sunscreen and then quickly drank a cup and a half of coffee.  I felt fantastic, rested and ready to go.  I opened the window, took a deep breath and blew out through the screen expecting to see my breath condensing in the cool night air.  It didn't happen.  In fact, it felt quite balmy out there.  I looked at my phone, didn't believe what it was telling me and refreshed the weather widget.  60 degrees it read.  I refreshed it again.  60 degrees.  A far cry from the mid 30's I had seen in the days leading up to my run.

I made some quick adjustments to what I was wearing, pulling off my arm warmers and stuffing them into my running vest along with my gloves.  I opted to keep my Houdini on for the start as well my headband since I would be wearing my headlamp.  For the life of my I can't figure out how people can wear baseball caps and headlamps at the same time. Doesn't the brim block out the light?!  I had three soft flasks I was carrying that could hold up to 2.2L of water but knowing I had a water source at 4.5 miles at Indian Gardens, I only filled my front two flasks.  I said a quick goodbye to my mom and Jennifer and was out the door.

I was immediately struck by how warm it was quickly followed by the realization that not ten yards away from me stood a huge elk.  She took a pause from eating and raised her head up to look me over before going back to her grazing.  Wilderness experience indeed.  After a quick chuckle I headed towards the Bright Angel Trailhead at a steady walk.  In these warm temps, I wasn't going to really need to warm up.  As I walked, I turned on my inReach, began the tracking as well as sending off a message to family and friends that I had started and made a quick video to post on my IG story.  Then I put my phone in airplane mode, clicked on my headlamp, did a little dance of excitement while letting out a little holler and then began the descent into darkness.

95%, no 99% of my hikes/runs begin with a climb.  For those of you who follow me, you know I live for going up.  It's how I start my day.  So to begin a route with a 4,500' drop was a whole new world to me. I had written on my notes of the route, "don't blow yourself up" three times.  With that in the forefront of my mind, I jogged down Bright Angel Trail at 3:30 AM. I  hadn't even made it to the first switchback when I encountered the first people along the way.  A duo moving slowly up the trail.  I slowed down and asked if everything was ok to which they replied, "Yeah, just a really rough night".  That led to a flurry of questions in my mind but I let them lie, bid the duo good luck and kept descending.  Perhaps I should have paid a bit more attention to their plight...

Those first handful of miles descending towards Indian Garden feel dream like looking back on them. In the darkness being guided by headlamp, I am forced to look more at my feet more than I am use to.  Quick side glances revealed only a wall of darkness rising above and below me.  Looking up at the trail ahead would only give me a glimpse of the rocky trail as it melted into the same black void.  So I continued to focus mostly on my feet, trying to find a good rhythm and stride on a trail littered with steps that weren't spaced consistently.  I lost track of time and distance early on but noted my passing of  the rest areas at 1.5 miles and 3 miles.  The trail was beset with pairs of glowing eyes belonging to all sorts of critters and my first highlight of the day was crossing paths with a lively ringtail.

In less than an hour I was greeted with the sound of running water as I passed through a little oasis known as Indian Garden.  I filled up with water here having already drank my 1L from the start of the trip. I was drinking water far faster than I anticipated as the dry desert air kept mouth feeling parched. I tried to breathe as much as I could through my nose but I was still feeling the lingering effects of a cold that I had been fighting for two weeks.  I tried taking small sips of water frequently to keep the cotton mouth at bay but it was a losing battle.  I made note that in future desert trips to haul along gum or some kind of hard candy to try and keep my mouth from drying out.  The trail flattened out after Indian Gardens for about a mile and I was surprised to see the trail become a creek bed for a while.  Getting my feet wet had never crossed my mind on this route and i was glad that I had put on Trail Toes before starting out as it prevents foot maceration as well as blisters.  Then I hit another big drop filled with switchbacks.  Still running in the dark, the landscape around me was hidden but as the temps were already rising, I understood that a sacrifice had to be made to get miles under my feet before it began to really get warm.

The trail leveled off again as it progressed through a narrow canyon.  Finally dawn was starting to show itself and I clicked my headlamp off.  I rounded a bend with a small climb and suddenly there before me was the mighty Colorado.  I was struck by the nearly green tone of the water, and the speed at which it was moving.  I have done lots of whitewater rafting on the rivers of the Pacific Northwest but none of them hint at the power of this river. I found it majestic, awe inspiring and terrifying all at once. The trail turned eastward here, tracing the canyon wall along the river.  My timing couldn't have been better as the sky brightened up above me, setting the canyon walls aglow.  As I crossed the suspension bridge I couldn't help but think of my parents and what they must have been thinking as they drifted on their rafts below this bridge on their own personal journeys through the canyon.

Across the bridge and into what felt like a whole lot of civilization again at the Bright Angel Campground and Phantom Ranch.  As I jogged along this section I waved at the campers who were enjoying their morning coffee, gave some high fives and then refilled my water near the Phantom Ranch Canteen. I had made it here in two hours which was faster than my goal time but I was feeling strong, hydrated and well fueled.  Leaving the Ranch behind me, the trail follows along Bright Angel Creek and the climb is so gradual that you hardly notice it.  I kept up at a jogging pace here as I remained in the shadows and hidden from the sun.  I knew that I had about nine miles until the true climb up to the North Rim and figured I would take advantage of the pleasant grade.

It was here that the route started to feel a bit tedious.  Now remember, I am the guy who digs going up and down trails like Cable Line, Mailbox, Section Line, Mount Si...over and over again.  Yet, here I found myself struggling to connect with the landscape around me. I kept looking down at my watch to see how far I had come, getting frustrated with myself for doing so, I switched it to the screen that showed only the time.  I tried every little trick I know to get dialed in but was unsuccessful.  Finally I just started pushing a bit, the faster I ran, the sooner I would be to the big climb right?  Now I wasn't sprinting by any means but I was starting to put ten and eleven minute miles in.  Couple this with temps that were starting to push over 70 degrees and all of a sudden what was about to happen isn't much of a surprise.  I hadn't seen a 70 degree day in over six months.  The majority of my training over the winter had been in temps around 40 degrees.  I was heading to a blow up.

The sun starts hitting the canyon walls

About 17 miles in, I ambled through Cottonwood Canyon and much to my surprise heard a "Stuke" bellowing from the trees.  Sure enough, a dude named Chris recognized me.  Pretty normal up in my neck of the woods but entirely unexpected at the bottom of the Grand Canyon.  We made small talk for a few minutes before I headed out again.  My mouth continued to be dry and I continued to drink frequently to try and alleviate it.  I had drank so much that there was water sloshing around in my stomach as I ran.   Finally the trail started to climb a bit more seriously and I slowed to a power walking pace.  The sun began to touch the bottom of the Canyon and the temps continued to rise.  At close to mile 19 I finally crossed the creek and took a break at Manzanita.  It was here the climb to the North Rim truly begins.  I refilled my water, ate a bit of food and then in soaring spirits started the ascent to the rim.

The first two miles are fairly gradual, climbing just 1,100' but the trail was in the direct sunlight and it was here I really started to feel the heat.  I also passed a gentlemen who was biking the Arizona Trail.  Because you can't ride your bike through the canyon, those who look to complete the trail, break their bikes down and haul them across the canyon.  I felt like quite the weight weenie as I stopped and shared a few minutes with this man.  Despite our different modes of travel, I still felt a strong sense of camaraderie with him.  We parted ways knowing we would cross paths once again and the climb continued.  To my south, panoramic views started to open up and the trail steepened.  I made a game of looking ahead, trying to figure out just where the trail went in an area dominated by cliffs.  Here the trail become the most interesting during my journey.  Blasted out of rock and taking advantage of any type of chink in the armor of the canyon, it meandered it's way up the canyon walls.  In spots the drop off was vertigo inducing and I hugged the canyon wall.  Then it happened, as the trail steepened, my heart started racing. The pounding in my ears and chest that I usually get at higher altitudes.  No biggie I thought, you are just sucking wind a bit here even though I was only at about 5,500'. I slowed my pace to allow myself to catch my breath and get my heart rate down.  But it didn't happen, my heart continued to race.



Now most struggles in the mountains I can deal with, fight through or just plain ignore.  However, a racing heart will get my full attention.  I paused for a few minutes, told myself again that it was the altitude and started back up again moving even slower.  Again, my heart rate shot up accompanied by nausea.  Despite my plodding pace I passed a couple of hikers and I told myself again that I was fine, that I just needed to slow down more.  Yet it was a completely unfamiliar feeling to get so winded on such a mellow grade.  Something wasn't right.  I continued to shuffle up the trail, heart pounding harder and harder.  Then the vomiting began.  I looked up and could see the light colored cliff bands that indicated the canyon rim.  It seemed so close that I could touch it. I paused for another five minutes and then began climbing.  My heart rate shot up in less than a minute and I could feel it skipping a beat here and there.



I sat down on a rock, threw up again then pulled my phone out.  I checked Gaia and could see just how close I was.  But my physical condition was deteriorating so rapidly and I wasn't to the halfway point yet. I sat there for minutes mulling over my options but my thinking was dominated by the fact that I had nearly 23 miles to get back to the south rim and that in my current condition, that was a very serious proposition.  I got up and started climbing hoping the longer break would have helped.  It didn't.  Suddenly there was no debate in my mind, I had to turn around.  I began to descend before once again being racked by vomiting.  I pulled out my inReach and messaged my team that I was in bad shape and turning around.  In hindsight I could have been more clear with my message as it was short and not very descriptive.  At that point my team became very concerned with my well being and our communication was frustrated by a lack of a back up plan and spotty communication within the canyon.  Lessons we learned from and will not repeat in the future.

Descending the North Rim Trail

I started descending again and after a few very rough minutes, I began to feel better.  I was able to pick up my speed a bit without my heart rate spiking.  I became convinced that it was the altitude and that I would be fine once I was at lower elevations.  Looking back I am not sure how I convinced myself of this as I have only had altitude issues once and that was at 12,000'.  After a couple of miles of walking downhill, I tried to break into a jog but was hit with side stitches on both sides of my torso almost immediately.  So it was back to walking.   As I neared Manzanita, the nausea returned.  I took a second break at that water source, filled up again with water and then headed out.  The canyon was cooking at this point.  I pulled my buff over my head, covering my face and neck, held it in place with my baseball cap and poured water over my head.  This was a very effective means of keeping cool and possible with all the water nearby. I also noted that my mouth was not as parched when I had a wet buff covering it. Another lesson.

I then began the long slog along the canyon towards Phantom Ranch.  It is in this stretch the the temps soared to the upper 90's and even hit 100 degrees at one point. I had no idea at the time as the wet buff/baseball cap combination was keeping me pretty cool.  I still couldn't run as I the side stitches would return and all my little breathing tricks I have used before to alleviate them was not working.  I wanted to run so badly at this point but was stuck at a 16 to 17 min/mile pace.  I would have good miles and then bad miles but wouldn't allow myself to stop for longer than five minutes.  I knew I wanted to keep moving towards Phantom Ranch.  This nine mile stretch is fairly blank for me as I focused on putting one foot in front of the other and ignoring my physical struggles.

As I neared Phantom Ranch, I began to hit another low point but kept resisting the urge to sit in a shady spot knowing how much I would struggle to resume moving.  Finally I rounded a corner, saw the trees and knew I was close.  Of course once at the ranch I had to poke around to try and find the Canteen but what sweet relief it was when I saw the sign and entered through the door.  Finally I could get a cold coke in my hand!!!  Except that they didn't have any.  It was beer or lemonade.  But the sweet, cold lemonade hit the spot and I ran once again into Chris.  I sat next to him and his partner, trying to gather myself up.  They were so encouraging and offered anything they had at their disposal to me.  I rested at Phantom Ranch for about half an hour, re-hydrating with electrolytes and lemonade.  I was feeling much better and pushed off again. In hindsight, I should have spent another half hour at the Ranch but I felt pressure to continue on with my team waiting for me.

The two miles after the ranch went smoothly and I felt like I had turned the corner on this day that had turned so ugly.  I joked with fellow hikers, munched on cashews and made small talk with some mules.  I once again was struck by the power of the river as I crossed the suspension bridge and even looked up at the South Rim thinking, "It's not that far now!".  Ha.

I left the river and began the climb up at about 3:30 PM.  Twelve hours after I had departed. Within short order, my heart was racing once again and I found myself vomiting all the liquids I had managed to keep down for a bit.   My pace slowed to a crawl once again and suddenly the South Rim seemed like a world away.  It was in the next two miles that I hit the lowest I have ever been on the trail.  My legs wanted to give out, I wanted so badly to just lie down on the side of the trail and call it, I was vomiting violently every ten minutes.  It was pretty flipping bad.

Temps in the Canyon on my return

I started to set the smallest of goals, get to that rock and rest.  Get to that sliver of shade and rest. I lamented not bringing poles so that I could lean on them while I puked (that never crossed my mind when prepping my gear list).  I wasn't moving fast but I was moving.  In my mind I knew that if I could just get to Indian Gardens, I could rest, catch up on hydration and food while waiting for the sun to go down.  I kept plodding forward, eventually I found myself wading through the stream that covered the trail and I knew I was close.  Then the pump house was in site, then the campground.  Finally,  I spotted the ranger station and made my way to the front porch.  It wasn't a ranger I was looking for but the big chairs on the front porch of the station, the cool shade it was sitting in and the emergency supply of food and first aid sitting next to the chair.  I plopped down on the chair, started guzzling electrolytes and eating salt and vinegar chips.  I messaged Jennifer and my dad and assured them that I would be fine, that I was getting exactly what I needed and would be on my way again soon.  As I sat there I watched a glorious light snow on the opposite canyon wall as the sun dipped below the horizon.

At seven PM, I left the porch of the ranger station, refilled my bottles and resumed the journey to the canyon rim.  I felt like a new human and while I wasn't running up the trail, the 2.5 mph that I was moving felt pretty darn fast.  I hit the rest area at 3 miles in a little over a half hour, took a break there to watch the last of the daylight fade, then put my headlamp on and continued the journey.  Once again the world shrunk down to what was illuminated by my headlamp.  In a little over an hour I was at the rest area at 1.5 miles and I sat down for a few minutes to allow myself to soak in the events of the day in this last quiet spot before hitting civilization at the rim.

Sunset from Indian Garden

On the second to last switchback I came across a person sprawled across the trail.  At first I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me.  But then the person lifted their head and whispered, "water?".   I knelt beside them and they again asked me for water.  I pulled out all that I had and took out their bottles and filled them.  I got them to sit up and after a few sips they explained to me that they had run out of water a long time ago and eventually their legs just gave out.  They had been laying on the trail hoping for someone to come by.   We shared our stories of suffering for a few minutes as I watched him to make sure he was alright.  I then pointed to the light at the rim above us and told him that was the end of the trail.  The smile on his face when I shared this news made my day.  I asked him if he was ready to get up and go but he wanted to sit a bit longer.  Knowing Jennifer was waiting for me at the rim, I bid him good luck and farewell.  Five minutes later I was at the trailhead, in a surreal world of gift shops, restaurants and street lights.  My personal odyssey was over.

Faces of bonking

Unlike Moab, I was recovered for the most part the next day.  I needed to replace liquids and eat a lot of calories but no soreness, no nasuea, no problems keeping things down even immediately afterwards.  Moab took me days to get back on my feet.  In the end I believe I just went out too fast and was unprepared for the heat that hit on my climb up the North Rim.  If I had to do it again in that kind of heat I would have planned for a big break in the bottom of the canyon while waiting for things to cool down.  I would have packed a ton of electrolyte mix.  I haven't ever felt the need for it before but in this climate it is a must.  I would probably also have gotten an even earlier start which means missing more of the canyon in the dark but since much of it was tedious to me anyway I suppose that running it in the dark I wouldn't feel like I was missing anything.  Unrelated to the running but I would have also organized my support and logistics a lot differently.

Ice cream the morning after! 

What went right, my kit performed flawlessly.  All the gear was perfect for the situation (added screenshot of gear list).  I at times regretted not having poles but that was only because it would have been easier to lean on them when I was getting sick than just having my hands on my knees.  Sorry for that visual.  My training was good with the exception of being prepared for the heat.  As I said, I was fully recovered the next day with no sore muscles other than my stomach and ribs which was unrelated to running!  I didn't eat near all my calories but there were there and available if needed.  My biggest shortcoming in fueling was not getting something like pizza or cheeseburgers along the way but in the end, that food wouldn't have stayed in my system for long.  I just wish I could figure out how to keep a cold coke with me!