Note: this adventure occurred months and months ago, before our world changed completely and Covid travel restrictions were in place. It just took me a long time to get to this blog post!
Our travel to the Canyon was lackadaisical at best, haphazard at worst. After cooking a Chinese feast over the weekend, we took the car in for servicing Monday morning, and then finished packing in slow motion. This means we didn’t get on the road until late morning. Once on the road, I started reading weather reports for the Canyon and realized that a winter storm would be closing in on Wednesday and continuing for the next couple of days.
If I was going to do the Canyon, Tuesday was the only day. Tuesday was also tomorrow. We left Missoula at 11am. It’s a 15-hour drive. We hatched a plan to drive until pretty late at night, sleep a good amount (~7 hours) and then drive the rest of the way in the morning. While Seth was driving, I quickly skimmed a few trip reports of the route, took some screenshots of the map, and figured that would be good enough planning wise.
We entered Grand Canyon National Park around 9am Tuesday morning and parked about a mile away from the South Kaibab Trailhead. Seeing the Canyon for the first time with the knowledge that I would very soon be dropping into it certainly quickened my pulse. After changing by the side of the road and sorting gear, we walked along the Rim Trail to the Trailhead.
The Rim-to-Rim-to-Rim (R2R2R) route is beautifully simple: start at the South Kaibab Trailhead, run down the South Kaibab trail, cross the Colorado River (yes, of course there is a bridge), run up the North Kaibab trail until you reach the North Rim, and then retrace your steps until you find yourself right back on the South Rim where you started. All in all, the route is 42 miles with approximately 11,000 ft of elevation gain, and 11,000 ft of descent. These numbers are not dissimilar from a typical mountainous trail run. What makes the R2R2R unique, however, is that the climbs and descents happen all at once: two ~5,000 foot descents, and two ~5,000 foot ascents.
The race that I trained for all winter (which was ultimately cancelled), Behind the Rocks ultra, was 50 miles with ~7,000 ft of elevation gain spread out in multiple smaller climbs and descents throughout the course. This is all to say – I wasn’t prepared for the R2R2R, but I sure was excited.
Most people start the route around 4-5am, so that the Canyon isn’t too hot and to avoid the mule trains coming up and going down South Kaibab trail. But due to our travel circumstances, I left the South Kaibab Trailhead at a bright and beautiful start time of 10am. Seth stayed behind, since he’d be starting his own run shortly after mine.
Between calling ahead to hikers to let them know I was coming through (“Hi there, thank you, have a great day!”), and focusing on the uneven steps and steep decline beneath my feet, I barely got a chance to look around on the way down – sometimes when I reached a switchback, I could sneak a glance at the sheer canyon walls which were now surrounding me. But the clearest indication that I was descending quickly was the hot gusts of air that had replaced the cool breeze on the Rim. Uh oh. I tried to stave off a sense of dread.
Soon I started catching glances of the Colorado River far below, and before I knew it, I’d reached the final tunnel before crossing the bridge. While running through the tunnel, just as I was thinking ‘it sure is dark in here, I can’t see anything,’ a man yelled at me from the other side. I immediately ran backwards out of the tunnel, and took the opportunity to tie my shoe as two mule trains passed by. Once the tunnel was safely cleared, I ran through and crossed the Colorado!
Just before reaching Phantom Ranch, the guest ranch located at the bottom of the Canyon, I spent a moment reading and re-reading a sign which said that the water pump was on at Manzanita Resthouse, a little outpost up the trail. All other water pumps were turned off since it was still early season, including the water at the top of the North Rim. I had two 20 oz soft flask bottles in my vest, and anticipating the limited amount of early season water access, I brought a backup 16 oz handheld bottle buried in my gear just in case.
I quickly chugged a bottle at the Phantom Ranch water pump, and as I was filling it back up an older woman walked over. “Are you going up to the North Rim and back down?” she asked while staring at me with what felt like an appraising eye. “Yes, I am!” I replied. This brief conversation would make a big impact on the day.
As I jogged out of Phantom Ranch and up the North Kaibab trail, I noticed with some concern that my legs already felt fatigued. I’d expected my quads to be tired after a 5,000 ft descent, but my calves were quite sore as well. This was a new one for me, as I’d never experienced sore calves after a descent, and certainly never so early in a run.
As jogged along the slightly uphill grade, numbers tumbled around in my head. My lengthy calculations told me that it was going to be approximately EIGHT MILES to the Manzanita Resthouse. Eight miles until the steep climb up the North Rim started in earnest. The trail opened up and I peered up the canyon, dismayed to find a slightly uphill trail stretching on seemingly forever in the warm afternoon sun. For whatever reason, I find gradual climbs to be SO mentally difficult – this was going to be a doozy.
‘None of the trip reports mentioned this section!!’ I indignantly thought to myself as I jogged. My legs were burning, and my head felt fuzzy. I had only filled the two soft flasks, so I hoped that I would have enough water to make it to Manzanita. Soon, I allowed myself to walk as I started second guessing my ability to complete the route. If my legs already felt like this, how was I going to make it back out the way I came in, let alone adding the climb to and descent from the North Rim? A few times during this section I stopped completely to turn around and look at the way I’d come, seriously contemplating bailing and saving the R2R2R for another day. ‘It’s my first time in the Canyon,’ I rationalized with myself. ‘I don’t have to do the R2R2R my first time in the Canyon.’
I alternated between walking and jogging for a while as I contemplated quitting. At one point while I was walking a helicopter flew overhead, so I started jogging again, not wanting the strangers in the helicopter to see me walking. I was torn – should I continue moving forward? Would I physically be able to make it out of the Canyon if I went all the way to the North Rim and back? ‘If I quit now, Seth and I can go for another run tomorrow in the Canyon and see more of it!’
And then I thought about the woman at Phantom Ranch. If I turned around now, I imagined her seeing me pass back through Phantom Ranch, and she would know that I had bailed. For some reason that imaginary interaction with the woman helped me commit to continuing on. I told myself I’d at least make it to Manzanita, and then could decide from there what to do. Once I’d made this decision, and eaten some gels, it was a lot easier to jog my way up the canyon since I no longer felt doubt and uncertainty tugging me backwards.
Eventually I arrived at Manzanita Resthouse, which turned out to be a small boarded-up building with a water pump and a picnic table outside. There was an older man with a large backpack just leaving as I entered. When I excitedly turned on the water pump, instead of water there was loud, hissing steam. The man definitely saw this out of the corner of his eye as he left, but he didn’t offer help and I didn’t ask for any. I had a sinking suspicion that I was somehow using the pump wrong, but instead of spending more time trying to figure it out, I quickly hiked down to the creek, filled my two softflasks, and treated them with the Steripen.
Now that I had made it to Manzanita, instead of worrying about whether I’d be able to make it back out of the South Rim, I was overcome by the feeling that since I had made it this far, I must see the adventure through. Once I’d fully committed to making it up to the North Rim, it felt like a weight had been lifted. And up I went!
I hiked and jogged up through incredible scenery. The trail was not as steep as I’d been expecting, though I still seemed to be gaining elevation pretty quickly as I weaved up through the canyon. I twisted and weaved along the canyon walls, occasionally passing by tall amphitheater-like openings with dripping water. After I had lost sight of the canyon floor, I started glancing up towards the Rim in an effort to catch a view of where the trail was taking me.
The climb became steeper after I crossed the bridge about halfway up the climb, and I passed three men hiking down from the Rim. ‘You’re about 2.5 miles from the North Rim,’ they informed me. ‘And there’s some sketchy snow on the way to the top, so be careful!’
My heart sank as I calculated how long 2.5 more miles would take at my current speed (not fast). But right after I passed them, I crossed through the Supai Tunnel, which I knew was 1.7 miles from the top. Whew! As I continued up, I started to develop a headache – whether this was from dehydration, a bonk, or the altitude, I’ll never know. But at the same time, my anticipation of the fun descent to come was building, and I was excited to make it to the turnaround point.
Soon I hit the snow sections, which were not sketchy at all, and reached the North Kaibab trailhead! I allowed myself two minutes to take off my pack, reorganize my snacks, and send an Inreach message to Seth to let him know I’d made it.
Then it was down, down, down. I ran with my phone in my hand so that I could take a few pictures of all the views on the way down. I took the top half a little more tentatively, since a few sections were a little technical, and then let it fly as I started approaching the canyon floor again.
The descent off of the North Rim and this section back to Phantom Ranch, miles 21 – 35 or so, contained my favorite moments of the whole R2R2R. I think I might have smiled for this entire stretch. I felt oddly fresh and often found that I had run up and over the brief uphill sections without even noticing them. About two miles before Phantom Ranch, I abruptly stopped because I felt that I needed to eat something salty immediately. I’d wanted to make it all the way to the Ranch before I stopped, but there was no ignoring this. I scarfed down some kettle cooked barbecue chips as I walked next to the creek, the canyon walls painted with dusky desert colors.
As I contemplated the climb out to the South Rim, I felt a sense of dread. 5,000 foot climbs are no joke! But I decided to reassure myself by listing three ‘secret weapons’ that I had ready to deploy for the climb:
- Caffeine: I would start eating my first caffeinated gels of the day at Phantom Ranch.
- Music: I had made a playlist originally for the Behind The Rocks race (entitled ‘Behind the lox’), and I was excited to put a headphone in after I crossed the bridge over the Colorado River.
- The knowledge that I had done climbs this big before: ironically, it didn’t occur to me until afterwards that I had done a similarly sized climb just hours before…
During a brief stop at Phantom Ranch, I sat on a bench to suck down three gels. I realized after a moment that my blank stare was peering directly into the dining room, and that all the guests were seated inside for dinner. Seeing all those people sitting in chairs and enjoying dinner made me feel a little more tired, but it was time for the final climb up to the South Rim.
It felt almost liberating to finally be starting the climb, after I’d been anticipating it for so many hours. Even though the mid-afternoon hours had been hot in the canyon, I was now grateful to be climbing out of the canyon at sunset. The canyon walls surrounding me were awash with golden light, which slowly faded as time passed and I ascended.
Alternating between hiking and jogging, I slowly but surely continued my way out. I passed one family on their way down, and they asked me if I was hiking all the way out tonight. After I assured them that I was, I pondered their question. Backcountry camping in the park is illegal if you aren’t in an established site, and there definitely weren’t any established sites ahead of me. I continued on, enjoying my music and caffeine.
Every so often I would turn around to catch the orange, blues, and purples of the desert sunset as a brief respite from breathing hard. Just as dusk was starting to fall around me, I came upon a hiker who told me that he was about to stop and camp for the night. I guess people really do illegally camp by the side of the trail.
As it got darker, I got more tired, and I started feeling nauseous. This was perhaps due to all of the barbecue chips that I had eaten at once, or because I was working hard, or because it had been about 9 hours so far. Regardless, I wasn’t able to eat or drink much for the rest of the climb. I was too tired to avoid the puddles of mule pee that I had so energetically danced around on the way down, and resigned myself to splashing through them. I just heard my mom groan as she read that sentence.
Eventually, once nighttime had set in, I spotted a headlamp up on the South Rim. I figured that this headlamp was Seth (because who else would be hanging out on the South Rim in the dark), and that gave me hope that I was getting close to the end. I didn’t move very fast the last couple of miles, due to nausea and some darn tired legs. Seth hiked down in his Crocs to finish the last mile with me, and then just like that, I touched the South Kaibab Trail sign and the R2R2R was done.
All in all, I finished the R2R2R in 10 hours and 50 minutes. If you’ve made it this far in this long blog post, I’ll tell you that I had a pipe dream goal of going for the unsupported female record of 9 hours and 15 minutes held by Katie Arnold. Such a stout time!! One day I’d like to go for it again, and see how much time I can save if I enter the canyon fully committed to finishing the route.
I was so nauseous following the run that I wasn’t able to eat or drink until I woke up starving at 3am in the tent. And my calves (specifically, my soleus muscles) were so sore that I wasn’t able to run for 12 whole days afterwards!
Solo efforts are unique in that most of your motivation must come from within. While I certainly enjoy the environment and camaraderie of an ultra-race, I appreciated the opportunity to dig deep all by myself, and see what I could come up with. I learned a few lessons that I’ll carry forward to future long endeavors.
- Don’t eat more than a handful of kettle-cooked chips at once.
- Commit fully to the route before you start, and then trust that you’ll be able to finish it.
- People don’t write about the long, gradual climbs in their trip reports, so beware!
- Watch out for mule trains in dark tunnels.
