A few weeks ago I made my first trip to the Grand Canyon. As with most places as cool as this one, it would not have been enough for me to simply stand on the edge staring at it. Instead, we ran from one side to the other, and back again and explored that big ol’ canyon the only way we knew how.
This one is a novel, so I’ll start with the down and dirty facts. It was my second-biggest day ever, we ended up covering 78 km and climbed over 3300m in 15 hours and 20 minutes. It was my first shot at doing any running in the dark, on an unsupported course without aid stations. It was both humbling and encouraging, and I’m walking away from it knowing that my body is strong enough to handle Sinister 7 this summer, but a little afraid that my mind isn’t. I think I’ll write more about that later; still processing. The only thing I can do to urge you on is promise some pictures.
I was not aware that the Rim to Rim to Rim/ R2R2R/R3 was actually a thing until relatively recently. I was spending the day running the Rockwall Trail last July with the lovely Hailey Van Dyk. As we exchanged stories of past adventures she spoke about her Grand Canyon Rim to Rim to Rim experience. I remember thinking a) I had no idea this is a thing people do and b) I WANNA DO IT, but how does one do such a thing without friends that are also into that particular kind of adventure? I didn’t think I had any that I could call upon, but I was totally wrong.
Fast forward to December, I’m enjoying a post-workout mug of mulled wine with a bunch of fellow Bow Valley Dirtbags, when I hear about a big group heading down to the Grand Canyon in March to run none other than the Rim to Rim to Rim. Marta tells me with much excitement how there is a huge group going, it’s going to be awesome and that I should think about joining. I blew off the idea right away due to how insanely busy I knew work would be in March and told myself to chill the FOMO, that I would have my chance another day and that this kind of run reaaaaaally doesn’t fit into the marathon training plan I would be following. Oops, two weeks later I somehow had a return flight booked to Vegas.
There are a few different trails you can take to complete the R2R2R, and until the night before we actually ran, we hadn’t established the exact route we would take. I had heard that we were in for about 74km and around 3000m of elevation gain. I started my Vancouver Marathon training in mid-January, I think a week after booking my flight. My biggest challenge was to figure out how I should prepare myself for the Canyon without compromising my marathon training. Marathon training Liz needed to run less often, only do as much mileage as necessary, and rest enough to put in some very hard efforts pretty much every time I did run. Hills were also relatively optional. Grand Canyon Liz figured I should probably get some back to back long runs in, a few big mileage weeks and oh yeah, the whole hill thing. I embarked upon the Hike-Sulphur-Mountain-Once-a-month training plan and tried to incorporate a few more hills than usual into my long runs. I was also very resistant to miss any of my key marathon workouts the week leading up to, or after the R2R2R run.
We flew into Vegas the Wednesday evening, and took Thursday to fuel up and make our way from Vegas to the Grand Canyon at a very leisurely pace. We started off the day by making a visit to WalMart that would satisfy every 8 year old’s dream, buying chocolate, chips, candy, cookies and anything else we could think of in mass quantities that would be tasty, provide us with lots of calories, and not be too much of a pain in the ass to bring on the trail. We made it to the Canyon itself late afternoon and got our first glimpse of one of the most spectacular places in the world. Aside from playing tourist, we wanted to get a good handle on where the two trail heads were exactly and more or less scope the day out, since our group of 6 would split in two, and be setting off the next morning at 4am and 6am. There would be no time for dickin’ around.
Coming from the Canadian Rockies, it was a really weird, cool and also terrifying sensation to be able to stand at the edge of your route and see the whole thing (more or less). When you’re at the base of a mountain or the starting line of an ultra, you usually don’t start at the high point of the course, or your view is somewhat obstructed; there aren’t many chances to get a bird’s eye view of a 50 mile course. To be able to stand at the South Rim of the Grand Canyon and see the bottom and across to the other side and actually visualize how far you were going to go and how much you would descend and climb (twice) was kind of fucked up. I actually got kind of scared and nervous for the first time about this particular adventure, but the excitement also built.
Our group of six had subdivided into two groups of three based on route preference and expected pace for various reasons. David, Marta and VJ preferred to descend via the Bright Angel trail as it was less steep and all three were nursing nagging or on-the-verge injuries. They also planned to start earlier, aiming to hit the trailhead and be on their way by 4am. Mike, Stef and I were hell-bent on seeing an earth-shattering sunrise, so we favored the steeper South Kaibab trailhead that would reward us with sweeping views of the canyon and all of its features. We figured we could start at 6am, bang out 3km along the rim to bridge the gap from our parking spot to the trailhead, and drop into the Canyon right on cue for the 6:30 am sunrise. We solidified our morning plans, stuffed ourselves with pasta and water, and unpacked (which was really much more of a gear explosion) into our hotel room (which we proudly crammed 5 of us into like true dirtbags) and called it an early night.
South Rim Descent: Fiery Sunrises and crushed hopes
We were treated to warm temperatures even at 6am when Mike, Stef and I set out along the Rim after scarfing down a bacon egg mcmuffin and coffee from McDee’s. This is Stef’s magic trick so I thought I would give it a try. It was an ugly start, I felt like I was carrying a gorilla on my back and was wheezing for the first few kilometers which freaked me out at first. Turns out eating McDonalds 15 minutes before starting, carrying a 15L pack of extra layers, poles, snacks and 3L of water (when you um, haven’t been training for that) and running at 7000ft will do that to you. Luckily we all felt equally shitty and after a quick trip to the bathroom and we started out on the totally runnable downhill into the canyon. Life got good again. Not to mention we were rewarded with seriously the most magical views I’ve ever experienced in my life. I know I live in the mountains, but I have AN OBSESSION with the red rocks, orange dusty paths and overall out-of-this world landscapes that make up places like Arizona, Utah, Colorado and Nevada. Add on top of that a sunrise that lit the canyon on fire, this was by far my favorite part of the day. I did not feel like I was on earth.
We took it really easy as the trail had ankle-breaking vibes and we didn’t want to murder our quads this early on. Also, photos. We were about 90 minutes in when we came across two girls ascending out of the canyon. It was weird because they would have had to leave any of the campsites at a ridiculous hour to be where they were on the trail. They also didn’t look like they were carrying enough to have been camping, but they didn’t look like runners either. They asked us if we were heading to the North Rim, we told them we were, and they proceeded to shit on our day and tell us that we probably couldn’t make it. They had come across a portion of the trail (I think about 25-30km in) that was washed out, deep, and too strong of a current to cross safely, especially at night when they had encountered it. Okay, they obviously didn’t mean to shit on our dreams, but that’s how it felt. Mike and Stef took this news calmly and in stride, agreeing that we would go as far as we could and if we had to turn around, we had to turn around. I fell silent, assuming the worst, that we would not make it to the North Rim and that the thing we had come down here to do would not be possible. I had a really hard time staying positive, so I just tried to put the evil river crossing out of my mind, since we wouldn’t get there for a few hours anyways.
Our first water refill and epic snack time was at the Phantom Ranch. This was one of my favorite moments of the day. We were surrounded by a few hikers and those staying at the ranch, about 16km into the canyon. Stef pulls out one of her three egg mcmuffins and starts to devour it, to which a hiker exclaimed with utter bewilderment “McDonalds!????? How the heck did you get that out here?”. We left Phantom ranch just before 8:30am, and were excited because we had now merged onto the same trail that Marta, VJ and David were on. We hoped it would be a long time before we saw them, simply because the longer before we saw them, the further ahead they were and the better shape they were in to totally nail the trail.
Totally runnable funness, a sketchy river crossing and hopes restored
We enjoyed the bottom of the canyon which, as I was told by many, is totally runnable. I’m not used to that big of a stretch of trail that’s not littered with hills that force me into a walk. It felt really good to chug along at a steady pace. Only as we encountered more exposed patches of trail in the sun did we slow down or take it easy, we were wary of the 30 degree temperature and how our cold-ass Canadian bodies would handle it. I was careful to never feel like I was “revving the engine” that early on. We started to run into hikers coming in the opposite direction and asked them if they had seen other runners. Someone let us know they had seen two European ladies up ahead which we at first shrugged off as someone else, until we realized they were, in fact, talking about Marta and VJ. Yayyy! Soon enough, we ran into David himself, he was in great spirits and told us the girls were also doing well. He had decided by that point that we would soon turn around and start heading back as his injury was starting to scream a little louder, but was in good spirits. We trucked along together for a while before we separated again. And then, we reached the river.
It was mostly a relief, we KNEW this was the washout the girls were talking about based on where we were on the trail. It was sort of like a river crossing across the top of a small waterfall with a medium sketchiness rating. The current was strong, but we had poles and there was really no choice but to give it a go. Plus, we hadn’t seen VJ or Marta turn back so we knew they had crossed, and figured we could too. I started poking around with my pole and decided I felt comfortable to give it a go. I turned around to read the look on Mike and Stef’s faces to get their blessing to proceed, and they were already poised, with their cellphones pointing at me urging me on. Bastards! The footing was good, and HOT DAMN that river was refreshing in the heat. We were SO relieved to have made it past the barrier that we thought would stop us in our tracks, and this gave us a huge boost. Before we knew it we were at the next water stop, filling up on water and snacks and about to start the ascent up the north rim.
Burning, never-ending fiery hotness
There was nowhere left to go but up. We made meager attempts to run some sections as the grade of the ascent up to the top of the north rim was only moderate, but we were almost totally exposed in the sun now, and I still wasn’t in the mood to feel like I was pushing it when I would have to repeat the descent and ascent again during the return to the South Rim. We basked in beautiful views (that reminded me of Zion National Park) and really interesting single-track-on-the-edge-of-a-cliff-type terrain that was very much in the “no-fall zone”. Soon we ran into Marta and VJ, in great spirits, and it was so awesome to know that they truly would make it and were feeling good. We kept going at our established uphill rhythm.
Remember how I said it was cool but also fucked up to be able to see exactly where you were going? The thing about climbing out of the canyon is that you can see the top, even from the bottom, so you know how far there is yet to climb. The start of the climb went quickly, but the last 3 kilometers felt so.fucking.long. I started to lose it a bit because I kept starting up and feeling like we were making no progress whatsoever. I started to get hot, and hangry, and bitchy. I bottled my rage inside because I did not want to spread it to Stefanie and Mike, and I tamed it by filling my hat with snow and putting it on my head. Because yes, there was snow, but it was still 25 degrees towards the top and I was baking. Soon the snow even started to ruin my life, as the last km of the trail was covered in slushy snow that made you feel like you were hiking drunk, either sinking in to your shins or slip sliding all of the over the place. It was a slow effort that earned us more and more shade, and eventually we saw that amazing North Rim trailhead sign. This was a huge mental win for me because now that we were all the way at the rim, I knew I would make it back and complete the whole thing because well….I had to haha.
We stayed about 20 minutes and had a good “meal” of cookies, sour patch kids, prosciutto-wrapped cheese, pretzels and chocolate. I would have paid like $100 for a Coke but whatever. Stef enjoyed another egg mcmuffin. (Seriously McDonalds should sponsor her). We cooled down quite a bit and by the time we were back on our feet and heading down, I was back in good spirits.
Hallucinating Horsies
The next few hours went by fast, all things considered. The descent was a nice change. The river-crossing was twice as wide by the mid-afternoon, fueled by the raging temperatures increasing the melt/water flow, though uneventful and refreshing. There was a huge flat section in the sun that was hard to run because of the temperature now at 31 degrees, and the complete lack of shade. We all got excited when we saw a bunch of horses grazing in the distance. “OoOo horsies!” until we passed “them” and realized it was a bunch of rocks. Once we hit the section of the canyon that was shaded, we started flying, faster than I ever thought I could go with 55 km on my legs. My phone was dead by now but I wish I had it to see how fast we were going, because my brain thought we were doing sub 5 minute kilometers. We breezed into Phantom Ranch around 6pm to see Marta and VJ sitting there, mid-refuel and sock-change, and had a mini reunion. 63 ish km down, only 15.5 km to go.
Hamburgers and Coke
We only had 15.5 km to go! We would be out of here by 8:30 I decided, and announced it to Stef and Mike who were doubtful (and as I later found out, much more realistic). Still, I clung to the idea that we were almost done, and I became much more motivated to run the hills, not worrying about having to save my legs for later. The faster I went, the faster I could have a hamburger, which is all that filled my thoughts. We also had escaped the relentless evil sun, and climbing in a cooler environment made things much easier to set an ambitious pace. When Stef led, I cursed her but was grateful when she would run, because I would run too. We switched positions throughout the evening as we ascended out of the canyon, and I know she muttered “fuck” a few times when I led the charge and decided to run too. But I think we thanked each other for it.
The canyon came alive after the sun set and we turned on our head lamps. Frogs started croaking, bats started flying and my resulting childish squeals formed the soundtrack to our climb. Stef got distracted and fell behind as we came across some frogs “doing it”. There was also this creepy bird with a glowing red eye that kept flying around and landing on the trail, acting like a really weird, creepy beacon forward. We could, again, see the top of the canyon illuminated by the glow of light from the parking lot, providing what felt like a depressing landmark for just how far we had to go. I at one point became mesmerized by a “bug” I saw, putting my face about a foot from the ground to look at it crawling around, only to realize it was a shadow….of a piece of grass.
Oh, then the wind started, which provided an encouraging sand-paper-on-the-eye effect and probably would have left me sitting down and climbing to the side of the trail for fear of falling off of it, had I been alone. Mike started to count down 4km, 2 miles, 3km and so on as we neared the top, we passed landmarks that confirmed how far we were from the end and his GPS kept us informed. This was encouraging at first, until we realized how slow we were going and that 3km might still mean……another hour. As we got closer and closer to the top, we tried to run more and more, eliciting various profanities from one another.
But eventually, we made it, and we ran the last two switchbacks, because we knew we could. And there was David, waiting for us there at 9:20 at night to welcome us home and it was THE BEST FEELING. Not long after, Marta and VJ emerged from the canyon and we could all finally celebrate our day together, all six of us! Then, we caped off the day where it had started: faithful McDonalds. I barely remember the Quarter Pounder with Cheese I devoured in bed, with my freshly showered feet propped up on a pillow, but I know I was smiling.
We hobbled into the car the next day and started the drive back to Vegas. If anyone had been in the car with us that was a) not into running or even b) not on the trail the day before, they probably would have blown their brains out. We debriefed on, relived and shared every minute detail of the day with each other between our two groups; things that only other runners would have any remote interest in, like when, where and how I popped my blister, which parts of the day we felt the best and worst, what foods agreed with us more, and what the day had taught us about ourselves as runners and non-runners alike. It was so awesome and refreshing to have been able to have such a running-indulgent weekend with people that have the same love, passion and interest in this adventure we had all shared, and that could support each other in everything it had meant for each of us. We soaked in every detail from the day before over beers in the pool and it was a reflection on a day or true happiness.
I should not forget to mention, that it was pretty freaking rad to get to know these five people that I have been running alongside every Thursday for the past year or so. Never have I traveled so well with a group, especially one with such a cheeky sense of humor. Where would I be without these Dirtbags?
And seriously, how the FLYING FUCK did Jim Walmsley make it across this thing and back in 6 hours? Pure witchcraft.
All of the random stuff I brought with me:
- Collapsible/ adjustable hiking poles
- 2L Camelback and 2 x 500mL soft flasks
- Headlamp
- Aquatabs
- Gloves
- Buff
- Extra pair of socks
- Anti-chafe lube for any chub rub
- Lemon/Lime Nuun
- Long sleeve layer
- Sunscreen – used all of it
- Sunglasses
- Salomon 12L pack
- 2 phones. One for strava’ing (which was an epic fail) and one for photos
- Charging battery. Also an epic fail, will not bother again
- SNACKS!!!!!!
- Salty Pretzels
- Sour Patch Kids
- Trail mix and Dried Cherries
- Prosciutto-wrapped mozzarella sticks
- Sea Salt and Chocolate bars
- Gels2 gels
This one time I went running 