It's 2am. Under a full moon.
The mules were restless from these human intruders disturbing their rest. Oh, the mules – never will one forget that smell. After a few pictures (see Part 1), we were off, down the SK Trail. The steepness of the SK Trail was about what I’d expected. The distance of the steps however, was unfamiliar and disturbing – they were built for mules. Too long for 1 human step, too short for 2 full steps. I developed a foreign stutter step that made it difficult to establish a rhythm. As downhills have always been comfortable for me, I was already using a little more energy than I’d hoped. Oh well, enjoy the place. Few eyes greet this great abyss under such circumstances. We played with our headlamps – clicking them on and off to conserve the batteries as well as absorb the moonlight naturally. We were able to enjoy several sections with no artificial light polluting our paths. Chris scared some deer or sheep off the trail a bit above the Black Bridge. By about 3:30 or so, we were approaching and crossing the Black Bridge over the mighty Colorado River.
I stopped mid-span to soak it all in. Looking downstream, the moon seemed to have perfectly centered itself over the river just for us – lighting up the walls and the river – casting its light for all to see. Well, for all those who were awake and here at that point in time. Not too many I figured. We watered up at the Phantom Ranch campground and continued on our way. We only saw one person stirring at Phantom Ranch. Ahhhhhhhhh, solitude, I could get used to this.
MMMMmmmmmmm……………. Bacon... 3:45 am, the Ranch-hands are up and cooking as we swing by another mule barn. It took a lot out of me not to stop, introduce myself, and join them for breakfast. I could always continue later, right? But, onward-forward; on to the flattest section of the trail we went between Phantom Ranch and Cottonwood, slowly rolling, ascending and descending gradually, along Bright Angel Creek on the North Kaibab Trail. 2 more folks were passed in the Cottonwood area – brief pleasantries were exchanged as we all continued on our respective ways.
Soon, the Canyon reasserts its magnitude – immensely high walls giving way to no person and seemingly nothing at all, although water will always have its way, given enough time. Almost 2 billion years of geology and history has been exposed through here. Absolutely remarkable when you realize who you are. Though in the moment, we are small creatures, insecure and inadequate in size and significance. We are now at the mercy of everything: a turned ankle or a faulty step; an errant rock or agitated wild beast; fatigue and faulty nerves. The enormity of this whole venture hit me as Kirk muscled on ahead and Chris and I were taking it easy. I was getting tired – probably haven’t been drinking or eating enough I thought. We stopped for some strange semblance of breakfast – some GU and shot blocks, some Accelerade-laced water. Almost gourmet here in the Canyon. I’ll save dessert for later – my sport jelly beans.
It was now about 5am or so. On we go.
Chris now moved out, easily, in front of me. In the high distance, Kirk flashed his light – progress. Venus was higher above us still, but the angle was such that it looked like it was sitting on top of one of the cliffs – it felt like Venus was closer to the North Rim than I was. Perhaps it was? I kept moving. But for the first time, I felt uneasy. I was enjoying the solitude now, but my legs started talking to me – and not in a pleasant tone. I kept going, pushing and exerting more and more energy. Definitely not eating or drinking enough – I popped 2 more electrolyte tablets and a couple of shot blocks. We were well past Cottonwood so I figured we “only” had about 4-5 miles left to the top of the North Rim. What’s 4-5 miles when you’ve already done 16+? And it was getting light out – sunrise. I was able to permanently douse my lights; at least until my return, if it lasted past sunset. That was definitely a possibility considering my physical state. Plus, I knew our two cohorts, Linda and Travis were probably on top, close to the start of their North-to-South R2 attempts. When the Canyon bests me, they will at least be by soon to push me the final few miles. And Johnny O (hubby of Linda) was waiting at the top with his bum hip, selflessly acting as our savior and willing aid station volunteer, radio and camera in hand, cooler in trunk, bananas and precious real food waiting for consumption. Only a matter of time before I arrived there.
But the cramps, oh the cramps. Calves, quads – 2 important muscles to get UP (and down). Ouch. They started controlling me now. My breaks became more frequent, stretching took the place of looking around absorbing the views, the geology, the beauty.
Who’s that up above? Am I about to pass someone? A lone hiker, apparently down for a view of the sunrise a few miles down. His words: “If you’re with those 2 you all are doing pretty darn OK. I’ll definitely lose this race uphill.” Ahhhhhhhh, the always welcome mental boost. Onward, forward - there’s Travis coming on down – fresh and vibrant. He hands me Chris’ radio, we talk for about 2 or 3 minutes. I watch him bomb downhill and over the bridge. I yell out a hoot and a cheer – progress. Soon thereafter, here’s Linda. Same exchange – pleasant and uplifting.
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She tells me I’m almost at Supai Tunnel which will mark 2 miles to go – on the first half of my trip. I can do this. Or not. My walking has become increasingly labored and I’m swinging my legs out to get up some of the steeper stairs in the interest of not encouraging my calf cramps – they won’t take no for an answer. Three more very healthy-looking, light-traveling R3-er’s are now heading down my way. I find out later they’re in from Idaho, though I swore I recognized two of them from the Boulder area – the mind games continue. And there is the Supai Tunnel – 2 miles left. I swear the last 2 miles have taken the better part of 2 hours.It’s now a touch past 7am.
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