Day 3: North Kaibab Trail - September 5, 2008

After the wake up call, we scrambled into our clothes along with most of the other inhabitants of our dorm - two remaining in bed trying to sleep - brushed teeth and hair and headed to the lodge for breakfast. Scrambled eggs, bacon, pancakes, coffee and orange juice. Lousy coffee. Then back to get our packs, fill up on water, repack, and start out. There was enough light when we started to hike without headlamps. The air temp was in the low 70's as we began our trek to the north rim. Almost immediately, we found ourselves in The Box, a slot canyon carved out by Bright Angel Creek into the deepest of the geological formations in the canyon - Vishnu schist - a hard black, granite like rock that is 1,700 million years old.

Walking through The Box in the early morning was quite pleasant - with four suspension bridges guiding us back and forth along the trail. The time, effort, and money invested in making this trail amaze me. The drop off was sometimes a few feet and sometimes 50 or 60 feet. We walked steadily until Nancy was forced to stop to check her feet and redress her blisters. She had three on her heel and more growing between her toes. Thankfully, my feet were fine, toes just a little tender. We made a couple of stops for blister aid and walked out of The Box and into the open desert section of the Bright Angel Canyon. We passed the turn off to Ribbon Falls, deciding to visit that spot on the way back, if at all.

As we left the intersection of the Ribbon Falls trail, with Nancy walking in front of me, I heard a rattle sound. In a split second I registered the rattlesnake and Nancy was maybe 5 feet from where it had been sunning. I said, "Nancy, stop. Stop. Stop. Back up to me." She finally stopped and saw/heard the snake and slowly backed up behind me. I stepped closer when I realized it had turned around and was slowly making its way away from the trail. I took out my camera and took three pictures before it disappeared. Wow! A rattlesnake - and so close! That kicked in some adrenaline, let me tell you.

We made it to Cottonwood Campground at 10 a.m. There we used the facilities, took off boots and socks, ate, rested, and filled our water containers. Back on the trail, I felt the steepness of the trail starting to gradually increase. We were still in open desert without much in the way of shade. Finally we reached a bridge and once across it could hear the Roaring Springs Creek rushing by the house there - last summer we had access to a bathroom - this time it was locked. We didn't take on any water and didn't linger. It was 11:30 a.m.

Then the real climbing began. I was already sore from the descent the day before. Now I was ascending and blasting away at quads, hips and calves as the climb became steeper and the switchbacks more intimidating. We have to go all the way up there? Oh my. Most of our elevation gain was between Roaring Springs and the rim - 5,200 feet. Up and up and up and up and back and forth and forth and back. Huffing and puffing and sweating and drinking, we slowly climbed. Every 100 yards or so we rested. We reached the Supai Tunnel at 2:30 where we took on water and food and used the facilities. The map showed us that we had maybe a mile and a half to the rim - we could do this - and we started off with hope that this mile and a half would be the shortest we had ever known.

After twenty minutes or so we were faced with the fact that it was going to be one of the longest mile and a halfs we had ever known. Both of us were tired, foot worn, our hips screaming to take off the backpack, as we dragged our sorry selves up to the rim - the last 100 yards, when I finally saw the end of the trail, I reached out for her hand and we walked the rest of the way up together, hand in hand. Unfortunately, we were so tired and out of it that we didn't take a picture of our rim arrival. We knew we had two more miles to walk to get to the lodge so we started off immediately - getting started after stopping was harder than just continuing.

We walked off the trail, up the road, into the parking area and into the lobby of the Grand Canyon Lodge and registered, asking for the cabin closest to where we were standing at that moment. Walking into the cabin, taking off our packs, and sitting down on the beds facing each other was a moment never to be forgotten. We had done it - climbed down and back up again - we were ok. Nancy's blistered feet were sore and my muscles hurt more than I thought possible. I thought I was in better shape - I never know when my muscles are going to crash and burn or when they will carry me for miles. I was so relieved to know that we had a "rest" day tomorrow. If I could heal a little, I would be fine. 75% of this is mental anyway.

We had 7:30 reservations for dinner, but decided to go put our names in early. The terraces overlooking the Canyon were full so we sat inside and waited. Finally we were seated at our table - two sore, tired girls who needed food fast. Mark was our waiter - he was excellent, although he never really made eye contact with us - he talked above or below or to the side, but no eye contact. We told him we were starving and ordered our meal immediately. He brought warm bread and I opened a roll, slathered it with butter, and the explosion of taste nearly knocked me off my chair. It was delicious. We hadn't even finished with the bread when he brought our dinner - neither of us could believe it - how could he have gotten the cooks to move our order through in less than ten minutes. We felt very fortunate and our meal was delicious - not too much and not too little.

Walking back to our cabin we started laughing about something and of course Nancy had to pee so she spent half the walk bending over and trying to control her bladder while I kept feeding fuel to the laughter fire. I love these moments of pure joy and laughter. Nancy is one of the best people to absolutely let loose with. I felt so happy in that moment.

It felt like heaven to slide my tired legs between the sheets and finally lie down and close my eyes and let go of the need to walk or talk or do anything except sleep. Huge sigh. Bliss.