Observer travels into Grand Canyon

JUNE 24, 2014

Visiting the southwest region of the United States for the first time with my family took us to Grand Canyon National Park. The view was breathtaking, but I didn’t fully appreciate it; I must have been fixated on the fact that no one laughed when I said I was going to jump to the bottom.

APRIL 14, 2024

After a month of preparation, lots of messages back and forth, and a desire for accomplishing the seemingly impossible, I have returned to the Grand Canyon with my friend Josh. This time? Hike down into the canyon, across the bottom, up the top of the other side and back — all in a day. Rim-to-rim-to-rim. More than 50 miles, more than 11,000 feet of elevation gain, 24 hours.

Beginning at 2:57 a.m., we had our work cut out for us. Other than potentially twisting my ankle, we began at the South Rim and effortlessly moved down the South Kaibab Trail. A pitch-dark descent 5,000 feet down, a falling star passing us overhead. The energy is surreal, like nothing else I have felt in my life. Exhilarating. Addictive. Introspective. Relentless. Exciting. Terrifying.

Unable to stomach any calories thus far, we moved on. Deer eagerly awaited us at Cottonwood Campground, the Colorado River roaring alongside us throughout “The Box.” A sharp pain in my inner thigh began as we traversed a strong creek just shy of Buddha Temple and reached the Manzanita Rest Area, a place I would refill my water and attempt to ingest some food, but to no avail.

It’s about 10 a.m., and we’ve covered nearly 20 miles so far. With another 10 miles and 5,000 feet to climb to the top of the North Rim, we would be reminded of our next error all the way up: We mistakenly sacrificed refilling all of our water reserves in exchange for lighter packs.

We began ascent No. 1 of the day with an empty fuel tank and a drive to keep pushing. The sun started playing a huge role, especially considering how our water reserves were low to begin with.

Frequent stops and thoughts of self-doubt all the way to the top. The Chevaya Falls relentlessly pounded the rock faces below. Crossing over the Redwall Bridge reminded me why I had a fear of heights. Scrambled over a couple sections sabotaged by rockslides, rocks hot to the touch. The higher we climbed, the chillier it felt. Icy snow began cropping up, with delusion settling deeper with each and every break.

We passed Coconino Overlook, and after a couple more “stop to catch my breath, fail to eat food and nearly pass out”s, we saw the snow-packed surface of the top of the North Rim. We made it. A power nap under the sun would grant the ability to down an apple and an attitude ready to tackle the back half of the hike. It’s just after 1 p.m., and after rationing out the last drops of liquid in our packs, we were on our way.

Spirits were higher than ever before as we zipped down the North Rim in record time (personal record, anyway). The sun was playing a cheeky game of hide-and-seek as we weaved from canyon wall to canyon wall, warming and cooling Josh and me in cyclical fashion. Crossed back over the Redwall Bridge, and the Chevaya Falls eventually came back into sight. The wind was picking up pretty heavily, and Josh and I were considerably parched. After another five miles and pushing 4 p.m., we made it back to Manzanita Rest Area and refilled all of our receptacles once more.

An earnest fist bump from a stranger. “YOU GUYS ARE ANIMALS!” after we told him we were halfway through rim-to-rim-to-rim. Made sure to ask Josh to take a picture of me holding up a West Orange Times and Observer to hopefully be featured in the paper.

We moved considerably fast on the way back. The wind howled as we crossed the river, weaved through “The Box,” my thighs burning more with each step. Many of the rock faces looming over us began to take the shape of all sorts of different images, deceiving my mind and stirring my brain around.

Pitch dark by this point, we reached Phantom Ranch just before 8 p.m. We made it with enough time to rest at the Phantom Ranch Canteen, sipping on lemonade and munching on candy before our final ascent out of the canyon.

We couldn’t feel our legs after departing the canteen, but with glory being six miles away, step by step, we chipped away at the seemingly infinite distance to the South Kaibab trailhead. Just as expected, we began to follow a similar cadence as the North Rim ascent: stop, start, stop, start, stop, start.

A couple miles up, my headlamp went kaput. For the remainder of our climb, I hiked close behind Josh, both of us equally using his headlamp to guide us out of the canyon. The wind picked up stronger and stronger as we ascended, each break giving us brief moments to process how low the temperatures were progressively dropping. “You’ve just gotta keep on pushing, man,” he says to me over my labored breaths. Frequently rerolling my ankle on the way up, I didn’t have the time or resources to rehabilitate my foot, making the home stretch that much more difficult.

We kept on keeping on, one foot after the other. Skeleton Point, Cedar Ridge and Ooh-Aah Point behind us, we reached the final switchbacks before joining an exclusive club of hikers who faced the impossible. The warm light of the trailhead came into view. The time is 2:26 a.m. We reached the top of the South Rim.

We did it. 23 hours and 31 minutes, 54.4 miles, 106,222 steps, 7,681 burned calories, 11,450 feet of elevation gain. We did it.

THE DATE IS ____________

Am I with friends? Am I with family? Am I married and showing my kids the grandeur of the natural wonder lying before us? Am I working my dream job? Have I finally grown facial hair? Have I rolled my ankle again? A lot may be different by the time I make my return to a place I now hold dear in my heart. The site of one of the first national parks I ever visited. The site of the most difficult hike I’ve ever completed. I’ve witnessed the breath taken from friends and family alike upon walking up to the infinite hues of the canyon, stretching as far as the eyes can process, and then some. Whatever the future may hold, all I know is this: If my son makes a joke about jumping to the bottom, I owe him at least a chuckle.

EDITOR'S NOTE

Whether you’re packing your suitcase for a weekend get-away or longer vacation, be sure to include a copy of the West Orange Times & Observer or the Southwest Orange Observer and snap a photo of you holding it at your destination for our revived It’s Read Everywhere feature.

Take a high-quality photo of you and your friends or family members with the paper and email the picture to Community Editor Amy Quesinberry at [email protected]. You also can mail or drop off a physical photo: Observer Media Group, 661 Garden Commerce Parkway, Suite 180, Winter Garden 34787. Emailed photos should be at least 200 dpi. Include the first and last names of everyone in the photo, where it was taken and a phone number where the editor can reach you. Call the newspaper office at (407) 656-2121 with questions.