Thursday, May 11, 2016 - Day 6
Shower Bath Camp to Sheep Mountain Spring
8 AM - 5 PM
9 miles
Elevation Gain: 1,200 feet

I expected nothing else. I knew exactly what ground we were covering. Today's 9 mile hike from Shower Bath to Sheep Mountain Spring was a bear. Long, hot and interminable. There was no pretending, no relishing in the bliss of not knowing. I stopped every so often and took pictures since I had spent most of this trip pulling up the rear and I wanted some record of the misery... and the beauty. Nancy didn't take as many pictures. She said she fell into survival mode almost immediately on the first day when we hiked into the Canyon and felt either too tired or too pressured to keep up to take many pictures. Not having time to see, to ooh and aah, to savor and take pictures made this trip really tough for me.

Today's footing included gravel, loose and hard sand, and small boulders - no major obstacles, and, yes, our packs were lighter and we were actually able to lift our own packs onto our shoulders without assistance from Stefan. My stamina, however, was waning and my exhaustion was waxing. At least my muscles weren't sore - they had finally healed enough on the rest day to allow me to hike without that pain. What I felt was weakness and exhaustion. I also felt the pack weight as a strain on my back and shoulders, which with a properly fitted and packed backpack, should not have happened. But no matter how I adjusted it, tightening or loosening the hip belt, the lift straps or the shoulder straps, I felt little relief.

Hiking these kinds of miles in the backcountry of the Grand Canyon doesn't feel like the miles I hiked when I trained in the Ossipee Range in New Hampshire last month. These miles are hard, unforgiving and ruthless - especially when the sun is out in full force and there is little breeze. We spent the first few hours of this 9-mile day walking up Kanab Creek, often wading in the water. The coolness of the water felt good, but all the rocks were covered with a slippery dark green scum so footing was sketchy.

My overall memory of this day is poor. I remember it was long, hot, plodding, sun, shade, an occasional breeze, stopping every hour to recoup, and tired of eating candy and energy bars. I wanted real food for lunch...but that would mean carrying it. Such a delicate balance, whatever we bring we have to carry and what can we live without? But substituting energy bars for food, while kind of fun on the first day, grew tasteless and tiresome by the sixth day.

I brought up the rear all day. Watching Nancy ahead of me plodding along, alone inside my thoughts and feelings, I reminded myself that each step forward was a step closer to sitting in a chair, sleeping in a bed, and taking a shower.

When we reached the confluence of Kanab Creek and Jump-Up Canyons, Stefan stopped to contact the office and verify that no extreme weather had been in the area and that it was safe to continue hiking up Jump-Up toward Sheep Mountain Camp. So often on our breaks I sat in a bit of a stupor, looking around, not really seeing anything, and continually looking to Nancy and inside myself for support and reassurance. Yes, I can do this. Yes, I can make it. And yes, this is not fun.

As we neared Sheep Mountain Camp, the terrain began changing. The changes were hard to describe but I saw more sky and felt less enclosed by the canyon walls. We were getting closer to the rim. We lost Kanab Creek and started walking through a different creek that had a spring close to Sheep Mountain Camp. We were surrounded by more foliage, bushes, green plants and Cottonwood trees. When we arrived at camp later in the afternoon Nancy and I dropped our stuff and sat, leaning against our packs, utterly exhausted. Eventually we changed boots for camp shoes and walked up to the spring. Here there were a few pools of cold water running over rocks and heading down the canyon. I eased my sore butt into one of those pools and sat in the water talking with Nancy and simply resting. It was hot and there was still a lot of sun left so we headed back to camp, set up our tent in the broiling afternoon sun, changed clothes, and sat in a small piece of shade talking and pounding fluids... We talked mostly about how we were each experiencing the rigors of this trip.

No question this adventure had been intense - from sore muscles, various cuts, scrapes, and bruises to weakness and exhaustion, and the myriad of emotions that went along with simply being there - carrying that weight, walking those miles, living very simply, rustically, without the things that we take for granted in everyday life back in civilization. Like sitting in a chair and actually feeling comfortable, rather than always sitting on rocks, shifting from one butt cheek to the other, back and forth, leaning forward, leaning backward, elbows on knees, legs out, legs tucked in close... There was no comfort to be found, not for my body.

I remember we moved from one patch of shade to another as we waited for the sun to go down behind the canyon walls. It was too hot to be anywhere near our tent, too hot to crawl in and lay down for a while. Finally, finally, finally the sun went down and our camp was cast in shadow, cooling slightly as the sky slowly turned deeper blue on its journey toward night.

Dinner was cold curried chicken salad with cashews and raisins. A new taste for me... I rarely eat curry, and this food was delicious.

Our plan was to get up really early and be on the trail by 5:30 AM so that we would beat the mid-day sun as we climbed the last steep pitch toward the canyon rim.

As we did every night, Nancy and I shared some time talking about the day, about the experience as a whole, and how we felt about anything and everything. I felt very blessed to have someone with me, who knew me, and with whom I could share just about anything, from the most embarrassing to the most sublime.

Day 7