Episode one: The One Where I Walk from Stateline to Tusayan

It’s giving FALLLLLL!!

In my 77 miles to the North Rim of the Grand Canyon, I walked through juniper trees, across the very flat but ever lovely Kaibab Plateau, through ponderosa pine forest, through several burn scars, along the east rim of the canyon, and through numerous aspen groves. Talk about diversity!  

Despite a smorgasbord of topography, the highlight of the first 77 miles in terms of scenery, was undoubtedly the aspens! If you’re someone unaccustomed to seasons (hello southern Arizona), seeing the seasons change right before your eyes is probably as exciting as snow on Christmas (I wouldn’t know, but so I’ve been told!) Hearing the wind rustle the leaves had me feeling like I was in an episode of Gilmore Girls (is this Stars Hollow??). At one point, I was walking through a grove while bright yellow leaves lazily fell to the ground and I may or may not have had a full photo shoot because they were just that stunning! 

 On day three, just south of Jacob’s Lake, I was walking through a nine mile burn scar that had me questioning my life choices due to a serious lack of shade. Despite this, it was pretty remarkable to see the new growth, primarily aspens, popping up amongst the charred logs, and really showing off! That night, despite a brutal day of foot pain and sun exposure, I camped in a meadow surrounded by those brightly colored beauties and thought, “Damn, THIS is what it’s all about.’ It’s the little things out there that make the minute inconveniences, aches and pains, oh so worth it.

Is THAT the water source or am I being punk’d?

Unfortunately, Ashton Kutcher never jumped out to tell me that Far Out was lying and that in reality, there was crystal clear cold water just around the bend. Listen, I knew that water was the hottest commodity on this trail when I decided to take it on, but I didn’t realize how spoiled I had become camping and backpacking in Colorado where water is, for lack of a better adjective, GOOD!! On day one I stumbled upon my first source, a wildlife tank full of algae, bugs, and some bird feathers and proceeded to wonder if the next source was perhaps better. The comments on Far Out informed me it was not, and neither was the one after that. I whipped out my brand new filter and proceeded to have the SLOWEST filtering experience of my life. I thought to myself, ‘hmmm feels like I could make some food, read a book, crochet a hat, any number of activities while I wait for this *tiny* stream of water to fill my bottle!’ After what felt like *spongebob narrator voice* three hours later, I back-flushed sludge that was reminiscent of Shrek’s swamp. I dropped a chlorine tab in for good measure and although it tasted a little like pool water, it did the job!

Some days, depending on the water situation, I didn’t  make coffee in the morning because I didn’t want to waste water that took 30 minutes to filter. One particularly challenging morning, my hands were cramping from squeezing the bag for so long. I wondered to myself, while lamenting the painfully slow trickle of water, ‘will this help my grip strength and make me a slightly less mediocre climber?’’ I could only hope!

The first five days before I reached the canyon were mostly playing mileage Tetris around sparse water sources, some seasonally dry and others still going strong, as well as racing to trailheads to see if the public water was still available in the cache. I came to realize that this would be the case for the next 700 miles, which both terrifies and excites me. Most days I carry my full capacity (five liters), just to be safe, and because dry camping is often the reality. 

Luckily, thanks to many reliable and generous trail angels, I was able to adequately hydrate with plenty of quality H20. Thanks, angels!!!

“Alexa, is it bad if I take ibuprofen EVERY day??”

By the end of Day 2, everything hurt in a “typical good day of hiking” way. I questioned how often I could take ibuprofen but opted for every other day because girl math told me that’s better for me. I decided I needed new shoes but wouldn’t have them until Flagstaff (but that’s what ibuprofen is for!!) Every night I laid down exhausted and smiled at the roof of my tent knowing I gave it my absolute best and although my feet ached, my heart was oh so full. 

Boy, was she GRAND!

My descent into the Grand Canyon began at 4:00 a.m., and while I was initially worried it was just going to be me and the apex predators out there (watching me fumble around in the dark and remarking to themselves how tasty I looked), it was actually me and hundreds of rim to rimmers/ultra runners. Thus, my descent involved being hyper- aware of my surroundings in order to get out of the way for whomever was barreling down the hill behind me. Despite this, the chilly north rim air made for a pleasant descent and I arrived at Phantom Ranch by 10:00 a.m. where I was greeted with ice cold lemonade from the cantina. Slay!  Since I had all day to chill, I went and set up at the thru hiker site at Bright Angel Campground and enjoyed a lazy day of reading and napping. It was 100 degrees in the shade, so not ideal, but tolerable since I wasn’t walking through ‘the box’ with a pack on my back. The night was pleasant, the site filled up with hikers from all walks of life, and the stargazing was top tier. 

The next morning I opted for another early start since I could expect roughly 5000 feet of vertical gain up South Kaibab and out of the Canyon. I was hiking by 4:00 a.m. and the heat already felt oppressive as I began my climb. What ensued after that was a LOT of heavy breathing, cursing under my breath, admiring the sunrise, cursing some more, more heavy breathing and a copious consumption of sour gummy worms. Tourists passing me on their descent probably wondered if all the shit I was carrying was really necessary and I wondered if ultraliters were on to something. 

  Even though it was my third time climbing out of the canyon with a pack on my back, it never really seems to get easier. I think at one point there may have been double middle fingers towards the sky and a silent promise that I would never be back, BUT now that I am firmly on the other side I came here to say, “I didn’t mean it, baby. I still love you!”

Onward to Flagstaff!