Camel Slaughtering

R2R2R2ZA - 44 miles, 12:50 min, 12,244 ft el. gain

“Rapid motion through space elates one.”

• james joyce 

The Grand Canyon might be the perfect metaphor for fitness.  Fitness, especially in my forties, feels almost geologic as constant training engenders imperceptible change that becomes obvious only after a long time.  It’s slow, but ultimately amazing.  

I’ve been largely “retired” from amateur endurance sports these last few years—burnout, a new job, turning forty, and two small children combined to create inertia.  In deciding to join my wife and a group of friends to run rim-to-rim-to-rim-to-pizza (R2R2R2ZA), I was looking for an amazing experience, a challenge, and a chance to return to some semblance of former glory.

R2R2R has become a niche addition to bucket lists for endurance athletes.  It involves starting at one rim of the Grand Canyon, running 20+ miles to the other rim, and then running back.  I added pizza because I like to feel like I’m running to something. 

Most people run R2R2R in the shoulder seasons to avoid high temperatures. Early spring is most common because the weather is cool and both the North and South Rim are open.  The North Rim of the Canyon sits at higher elevation and receives considerably more snow and inclement weather.  As a result, the Park Service closes the North Rim and all roads leading to it in the late fall.  By running in November, we not only risked snow on the North Rim, but also desolation.  In spring, the North Rim is a bailout point for those who underestimated the Canyon’s size.  In winter, the North Rim is the halfway point no matter what.  The choice is to turnaround and run back or freeze in isolation. 

So we had sufficient incentive to finish what we started, and my motivation to regain lost form was, at least in part, driven by necessity.  I last raced Ironman over 3 years ago and the relative inactivity had, pardon the pun, left me in a deep hole. I gained 20 pounds and lost the fitness base that used to carry me through endurance challenges.  

Workouts that had once been routine now seemed unthinkable, but you just start where you can start—commit to pushing your limits wherever they are, recover, and then push things a little further.  As complicated as physiology is, it’s ultimately just response to stimulus.  Just as the Colorado River slowly erodes rock until, eons later, we are blessed with a truly astounding Canyon, constant work slowly creates a body that can run across the Grand Canyon with enough left to run back. So I guess the metaphor is that motion makes change.  It’s true of fitness, life, and giant freaking canyons. 

The Run

One truism I picked up as a cyclist is that any time you go down a big hill and then cross water you’re going back up the other side.  The Grand Canyon might be the ultimate example of this.

We decided to run South Kaibob to North Kaibob and back.  The run divides nicely into three roughly 7 miles segments that you run twice if you make the roundtrip.  The first stretch is the South Kaibob trail from the South Rim to the river where you quickly descend roughly 5000 ft over 7 miles to the river. (Bright Angel is the alternative to South Kaibob.  It boasts more water sources and a gentler grade, but also adds miles).  

Crossing the river, it’s fourteen miles up roughly 6000 feet to the North Rim.  The first half is relatively mild, just a steady easy grade for about 7 miles to to Roaring Springs.  The last stretch is the steepest of the run from Roaring Springs to the North Rim. 

From there it’s down the steep trail back to roaring springs, down some more to get back to the river, and finally back up South Kaibob to the South Rim and some well-earned pizza.

South Rim to River

Kris, a retired Air Force pilot with call sign Sherpa, was battling tendinitis and a last minute scratch for the run.  He earned his moniker on this trip by coming out to the Canyon regardless to support the rest of us.  We slept in the Grand Canyon village about four miles from the South Kaibob trailhead.  The National Park Service shuttle bus didn’t start  running until 7 AM, so we options were private taxi or our own personal Sherpa.  Kris had the car warm already warm at 4:30, and Mindy, Mikal and I piled in for the start.   

The rest of our party had splintered.  Zack and Ty had braved Spirit Airlines, and were informed, less than an hour from takeoff with no explanation, that they wouldn’t be flying.  The scramble to rebook left them driving to the Grand Canyon pretty near the time we started running.  More on that later. 

Theo—who we nicknamed Miles because he kept finding ways to add steps to the already long day—wanted to keep things uptempo, so he left down Bright Angel on his own around this same time.  

We lucked out on weather.  Our phones warned us it would be 18 degrees when we started, but we woke to a relatively balmy 34, so we skipped some anticipated early morning shivering.

The first 7 miles down to the river was uneventful except for the fact that we greatly underestimated the time it would take to navigate a steep, rutted descent at night.  The headlight defined my entire field of vision to the degree that it created a sensation that i was wearing goggles.  

Slow was fine, though, as the only goal here was to get down to the river safely and not end the day early with a sprained ankle or gushing head wound. 

By now, we didn’t need our head lamps and warm clothes, so rather than carry the extra weight and bulk, we stashed them near the first water source with the plan to grab them again 28 miles later before we hiked back up.  More on that later.   

River to Cottonwood Campground

The run from the river to Cottonwood Campground is a slow climb tracing a small stream through a slot canyon.  It is by far the easiest stretch of trail as you run by Phantom Ranch and Bright Angel Campground, you steadily head up a slight grade on well maintained trails with a short steep climb just before arriving.  

We crossed the river as the sun rose and felt a rush of exhilaration with the daylight as we made our way up to Cottonwood Canyon.  The slight chill off the tight canyon walls made for perfect running weather.  

Our mantra here was “keep eating and drinking.” To the extent there’s a secret to endurance sports, it’s making sure not to fall behind on nutrition. Nutrition and a positive attitude can carry you through almost anything.

At Cottonwood, campers were waking up and brushing their teeth as we refilled our water bottles before heading up the long climb to the North Rim.

Cottonwood to North Rim 

After Cottonwood the climbing begins in earnest.  Here we switched from “mostly running with a few hiking stretches” to “mostly hiking with a few running stretches.”  This was our longest stretch without water—about 16 hard miles—so I filled my bottles and hydration pack to capacity at Cottonwood.  It was freezing when we stopped running, and the cold water that splashed on my hands while filling my bottles left me left with less dexterity in my fingers than Orlando (our one-year-old).  

I think because of my frozen fingers, I must not have fully attached the hose to the hydration pack because water leaked down my back pretty steadily the whole way up to the North Rim.  It gave the impression that I was losing an impossible amount of sweat in pretty cold temps.  If you look closely at the pic below, you can see it looks like I wet myself.   

Just before reaching the North Rim, we ran into Theo.  He had beaten us to the Rim and added on extra miles to see an overlook.  Seeing us near the top, he turned around and went back up with us (R2R2R2R?).

Pretty awesome to unite more of our group at the North Rim.  And it still kind of looks like I wet myself. 

North Rim to Cottonwood Campground

The highlight of the descent from the North Rim was seeing Zack.  It was pretty disappointing for everyone that the Spirit Airlines fubar kept Zack and Ty from starting with us, and we didn’t really know what, if any, part of the run they would be able to do.  

But on our way down from the North Rim, we saw Zack about 18 miles into his run and only about 5 miles from the North Rim.  We took a selfie and told him to “go for it.”  The late start meant he would have to finish alone, cold, and in the dark, but pretty badass to set off on his own and enjoy the experience despite the setbacks — suck it Spirit, Zack doesn’t need you to fly.   

Cottonwood Campground to River

This was our last stretch of downhill on the day.  We took advantage of the gentle slope, fell in line, and just kept an easy pace on our way back down to the river.  

The trail has frequent stone dividers to take water off the trail.  We must have stepped over hundreds of them of the course of the day.  Here around mile 30, my glucose deprived brain suffered a momentary lapse of attention.  My right foot clipped one of the stones.  I tried to pull my left foot through as I tripped, but couldn’t get it over the divider in time and wound up falling hard on my left side.  

I was pretty pissed at myself.  I cut my hand and elbow and knocked my right quad hard.  I knew I would have a solid bruise, but figured the best thing to do was to keep moving so it couldn’t tighten up.  So I jumped up and kept running taking extra care and   feeling annoyed with myself for my lack of focus.

We had read a lot about the lemonade for sale at Phantom Ranch right by the Colorado River.  We debated whether it was worth the stop and finally figured why not?  When else would we have the chance to drink lemonade at the bottom of the Grand Canyon?  So we toasted some lemon sugar water and sat back and relaxed for the only extended break we took on the trip.  And yes, the lemonade lived up to the hype—highly recommend.     

Before we started the trek back to the South Rim, we stopped to retrieve our stashed clothes and headlamps.  They were gone.  Apparently, you’re not supposed to stash gear.  Reasonable enough as rules go, but now we also know the Park Service will take your stuff if you do.  We were all willing to abandon the head lamps and stray articles of clothing to the Phantom Ranch lost and found, but not Mindy.  Anyone who knows Mindy knows that, of course, she ran the half mile back in the wrong direction to haggle and get our stuff back. And anyone who knows Mindy knows that of course she got our stuff back.   

River to South Rim

The lost clothes proved to be the last hiccup.  As we climbed out I felt more confident and more elated with every step.  As I made my way up the Canyon wall, I knew I would finish and finish feeling well.  I felt strong and dialed in and deeply present in the Canyon, which easily qualifies as one of my favorite spots on Earth.  I kept hiking forward and tried to soak in as much texture and nuance as I could.  I studied multiple enclosures hollowed out of the Canyon walls and wondered about the geologic pressures that had molded this rock over eons of time.  As I got closer to the top I started talking to everyone I passed. I talked to a woman who turned 60 and regretted never seeing the Grand Canyon, so she drove herself across the country from New Jersey to see it.  She followed me up the last 100 meters and asked to take a picture of me as a I finished.  She took the first picture at the top where I’m looking satisfied with my hands on my hip. 

I’ve been in better shape.  I’ve had harder days.  But this one meant a lot to me.  In part because I got to spend a great day with great friends in a truly spectacular place.  But also because of the deep hole I’d dug myself in and the almost geologic change it took to be able to climb out.

And, of course, when it was done.  I got to eat pizza.  Thanks for reading about my day.