Rim-to-Rim-to-Rim: The Complete Write-up Part II. North to South

How did we get to this point?  Read Part I

North Rim to Phantom Ranch

Despite my little bonk on the way up, I was feeling good right away as we headed down.  The trail was steep, but largely runnable and we were back at Supai Tunnel in no time.  At this point Wendy wasn’t feeling tops so we decided to split up.  Artie, Mike, and I pushed ahead in hopes of reaching Phantom ranch by 3:30pm.  Tressa had hiked down and was going to hike back up with us if we got there by 3:30.  Else, she was going to head up on her own. 

After topping off with water and hitting a quick bathroom stop, we began running down to Cottonwood.  Again, the trail was steep in parts, but almost entirely runnable.  The three of us strung out a bit, but reached the campground within minutes of each other.  But everything was taking a bit longer than we had expected and it was going to be a stretch to reach Phantom by 3:30.  We topped off the water again and then Artie took off with plans to push the pace, but I set my sights on 4:00pm to try to buy a lemonade at the canteen before it closed.

We were over 30 miles into the day at this point—longer than I’d ever run before—fatigue was setting in.  I didn’t rest long enough at Cottonwood and knew almost immediately that I would not be running hard through this section.  We ran though the dessert-like area as I watched Artie then Mike pull away and we were strung out again.  I needed to slow down as the heat began to overwhelm me—it was well into the ’90s at this point.  Then I was walking.  The idea of reaching Phantom by 4:00 became laughable as I was averaging 20 minute miles.

As a general observation, I was surprised by the large numbers of people on the trail all day.  Except for this section at this time of day.  Over the 7+ miles, I saw only a half-dozen other people.

I arrived at Phantom Ranch pretty wrecked—nearly exhausted.  Artie had already been there for over 30 minutes (Mike only a little less) but had missed both Tressa and the canteen.  I asked for 15 minutes to sit and rest.  After that, I was feeling much better and as we were deciding whether or not to wait for Dave and Wendy for the remaining (and likely hardest) 10 miles of the day, they came into camp.  We decided to head up Bright Angel as a group so we took a little extra time to let them rest.  I wasn’t complaining.

Dave suffering from an acute case of overcompensation

Phantom Ranch to South Rim

Some of us were fresher than others, but make no mistake that we were all in some state of exhaustion by this point—38 miles and approaching 14 hours into our day.  As we jogged out of camp and toward the river, I was laughing through the pain as I watched from the back of the line as everyone tried to run.  Ha-ha—look them!  That looks slow and miserable!  I’m glad I don’t look like that!  Wait, why am I falling behind…?

From the bottom of Bright Angel to Indian Garden, the trail climbs “gradually” (only 400 feet per mile) for about 3 miles.  From there, it’s 4 and a half miles and 3,000 vertical feet of often steep climbing to the rim.  The sun was setting—we’d go up the way we came in: in the dark. 

There would be no more running for the day.  We hiked at a fair pace considering our fatigue.  Mike was still feeling good and pushed ahead.  The rest of us stuck together in the dark.  My tummy was finally starting to rebel against the 14 hours of sports nutrition I’d been pouring into it.  I kept drinking my Infinit because I knew I needed the hydration and calories, but I was starting to feel queasy.
 

When we reached Indian Garden, my gut was still a problem but everything else was actually feeling better and stronger than an hour or so before at the river.  I dumped out what was left of my Camelbak bladder of Infinit and refilled with plain water.  It was, in a word, delicious. We sat and rested briefly before heading out to the next stop—3 Mile Resthouse about 1,000 feet up over a mile and a half.  Mike again pushed ahead and we didn’t see him again until we made the rim.  Dave was beginning to crack at this point.  The four of us stayed relatively close, but Wendy and I pushed ahead at times with Artie hanging back with Dave as we yo-yo’d to the next stop.

The Garmins ran out of batteries as we approached the 17 hour mark.  When we stopped at the resthouse, we were all pretty tired but the very steepest section was behind us.  We still had to climb 2,000 feet over the last 3 miles and it was easy to see at this point how people get into real trouble attempting this one-day double crossing at this point—so close to the finish.  We could see from the headlamps that there were still several other groups out on the trail, most of them finishing up rim-to-rim-to-rim just as we were.  We talked to a few folks from those groups as we met up on the trail or at rest stops.  Many had run into trouble during the day.  One guy (a manager at a Trader Joes near my hometown who let me know that Colorado is on the expansion plan, maybe as soon as 2013.  Was this the most important info we learned on the day?!) had to split with his partner on the north rim because of medical issues.  He headed back across the canyon while his buddy caught a shuttle for the 200+ mile drive back to the south rim.  The failure rate seemed to be in the 10% range for initial members of the groups that were still out with us.  But everyone in our group was going to make it—not a small deal.  With everything that could go wrong when five people attempt this together, it’s really a testament to the quality of our preparation both as individual athletes and as a group.

But we still had to get out.  Wendy was still physically strong but borderline delirious—laughing hysterically at every word that came out of her mouth.  Dave was moving into pretty rough shape—moving forward more on sheer will than physical strength.  Artie and Wendy moved forward and I stayed with Dave as we moved up to the 1.5 Mile Resthouse.  With my tummy finally flushed out, I was feeling pretty good at the pace.  I know I could have pushed faster, but there was no way I’d leave Dave at this point.  He was making good progress, but seemed a bit unsteady.  I made sure he stayed on the inside of the trail and fed him from my stash of glucose tablets every 10 or so minutes.

When we arrived at the 1.5 Mile Resthouse, Wendy and Artie were waiting for us.  They looked exhausted.  I was feeling better and better by this point, but I’m sure my face was showing a different story.  We moved out again as Wendy and Artie gapped us—we’d next see them at the rim.  Dave and I made slow steady progress on this last push.  Shortly before the top, Dave stopped and asked whether I’d seen a cat cross the trail right in front of us.  I hadn’t, but I looked where he said it went and didn’t see anything.  I didn't see any pawprints on the dusty trail.  We needed to get out of the canyon. 

All smiles at the end of the day

It wasn’t long before we reached the rim roughly 18 hours and 45 minutes after we started.  Tressa snapped a few pictures of us and then we headed back to the campground to eat the dinners she had bought for us when it became evident that we wouldn’t be up in time to get to a restaurant (most of which closed at 10pm)—salmon, rice, and veggies with corn bread and roasted red pepper soup.  It was an unbelievable feast after our day.  (Mike and I also grabbed a couple slices of pepperoni pizza at the one open restaurant between the rim and the campsite.)


Post-run

Only one blister (and not nearly as bad as it looks in this pic)

We mowed down our late dinner and then headed straight for bed in a wave of stink—the campsite showers had closed at 9pm.  I fell right to sleep but my legs were twitchy and my body thermostat was completely out of whack—first I was warm, then cold, then a sweaty mess.  I awoke at dawn feeling reasonably recovered but not well-rested.  I was achy and sore, but in pretty good shape, all things considered.  Aside from a blister on the side of one of my toes (which I had successfully treated with duct tape on the trail around mile 30), I had no injuries or even any substantial chafing.  Walking and moving around helped loosen things up and the hot shower ($2 for 8 minutes) was absolute heaven.

We had a fancy breakfast at El Tovar before breaking down the campsite and beginning the long drive home.  The weekend had been a success for all of us.  We had each hit and broken through a wall or two during various times of the day, but accomplished something enormous.  For me, this was a one-and-done situation.  There is no chance I’ll do it again, nor will you see me running ultras again.  I’m really, really glad I did it but now it’s done and I have no desire to do it again. 
Would I recommend it to someone else?  Sure—if this is the sort of thing that moves you.  Despite all of the things that could have gone wrong, I was surprised by how safe it felt.  The main trails we packed were full of people almost all day.  The planning and training take some work for sure, but it was all attainable.  I had thought I was well-prepared with my training—turns out I had probably done the minimum necessary.  But it was enough.

Thanks for following along on the SPOT map (if you did) and for reading about the day here.   Many, many thanks to my friend Sharon for hooking me up with the SPOT (and for being my reliable weekday running partner).  And of course, a shout out to our little Grand Canyon R2R2R crew—Mike, Dave, Wendy, Artie, and Tressa.  We made some big memories this weekend.  I’m grateful for your friendship, patience, compassion, and humor.  I’m awed by what we accomplished.


(Complete photo set: http://photobucket.com/r2r2r)