the fine line part 10b…

(Or… in which there really is a fine line between Badass and Dumbass)

If you recall from the last installment we were just about at the north rim…

Actually the north rim is not the exact halfway point by the route we were taking. You see, our return trip to the south rim had us going up the Bright Angel trail which adds about 6 km to the trip.

I just meant I’d seen things I’d as soon not of. 
I know it. There’s hard lessons in this world. 
What’s the hardest? 
I don’t know . Maybe it’s just that when things are gone they’re gone. They ain’t comin’ back.

– Cormack McCarthy

This was where the wheels came off the cart a bit. We tagged the sign at 0125. On schedule more or less. It was dark, windy, and cold. And I immediately yakked! I started shivering uncontrollably, and felt very weak. The Houdini jackets were lifesavers. Somehow Caleb had even managed, as if by magic or sleight of hand to put his on whilst walking. Matt and I went over to the composting toilets; there was some residual heat in there, but not enough. Okay now what? There was nothing for it, but to head back. Less than a km down the trail I threw up again. Out with the evil; I felt better. Way better. We soon saw the lone hiker still on his way up. He asked or maybe just commented about us heading back. We just grimly nodded in the dark. At least we had regained some forward momentum. By the time we had returned to Manzanita it was just starting to get light in the east. We spent a few minutes here, getting water, eating, and adjusting our kit. By this point however, my carefully arranged nutrition plan had gone completely out the window. I was feeling okay still, but not taking in the calories I should’ve been. A big push from here of about 13.5km, through Cottonwood and all the way back to Phantom Ranch was ahead of us.

Just after Manzanita we could finally turn off our lights for good. It was a beautiful still morning as we worked our way through the box. The rising sun was setting the rock walls aglow with otherworldly light. Again, playing our fun game; this time guessing when we would see the first people heading north, and how many of them there would be. One of the first groups were a pair of trail runners also doing the R3, having started this morning from the South Kaibab trailhead. Well… one of them looked the part. Lean and fit. His buddy… not so much. We felt like the guy was leading his friend to his death. He even admitted that they got too late a start and was worried about coming back through the box in the heat of the day. The friend didn’t even look like he would make it to the North Rim, let alone back down. We never saw them again, nor heard about their outcome. This was a wonderful section of trail. Our original intent was to run most of this. We ran a short section, but in discussions with my feet, they made it clear that they weren’t interested in any lengthy running. We did encounter way more people than I expected. Maybe being in the canyon distorts peoples sense of space and time, because we met one young lady who told us we only had a half an hour to go. Go where? Phantom Ranch presumably. An hour later and we were there, and we weren’t exactly dawdling either.

Once at Phantom we were able to take on more water, eat, and adjust our kit for the final push. We also ended up chatting to some folks that we had talked to the night before. We were officially well behind schedule by now. Not only that, it was around 0800, and I had wanted to be heading up at least an hour earlier than this, considering how warm the day was already becoming. But this was the hand we were holding.

As nice as it was there, we knew we couldn’t stall any longer and had to get going. The first bit out through the Bright Angel campground is always very pleasant and shaded. Once you hit the silver bridge however, all bets are off. The hammer of the sun was directly upon us. The trail on the other side of the bridge is always my least favourite portion. Fully exposed and deep beach like sand makes for tough sledding. It’s not until one reaches Pipe Creek that there is some shady respite, but this doesn’t last long. At least there are several streams to dip ones hat to help keep cool; something I took advantage of at every opportunity.

There came a point where I hit a bit of a wall. I had slowed considerably, and was again feeling weak and nauseous. Try as I might I couldn’t bring anything up, but I also couldn’t seem to take anything more in. I was taking salt tablets, and water, and the odd Clif Block, but to no effect. We were still moving, still passing people, but I could tell I had pretty much emptied my clip. Caleb and Matt had taken most of the weight out of my pack, it wasn’t a large weight but it was a huge help. It had turned into a real death march just to get to Havasupai Gardens. It was all I could do to just lay on a bench in the shade.

The only thoughts I really had were of the 7km and nearly 1,000m to go to get to the end. I knew it wasn’t possible in my current state. All I could think to do was wait it out. Folks we had passed long ago were now making their way past us. Normally that sort of thing would have irked me to no end, but as it was I had no energy to care one way or the other.

Havasupai Gardens had water of course, but they also had a ranger station. Caleb went off in search of a ranger, and after some amount of time came back with one in tow. This guy was the coolest, most professional person I have ever met. At this point I embarrassingly felt far more dumbass than badass… The ranger station is kind of well hidden, but they have an actual clinic there! My normally robust ego was nowhere to be seen, and the next thing you know I am laying in bed in an air conditioned room, drinking electrolytes in ice water and hooked up to some monitors. Turns out my blood pressure, blood oxygen levels, blood lactate levels, and heart rate are all a-ok. They asked me all sorts of questions about urine activity and output, food and liquid consumption, etc. They were not only Rangers, but trained EMT types, and they were also on the phone with a doctor. They were also extremely pleased that we actually sought them out and asked for assistance. Presumably before it was either too late and or in a less desirable location. The head ranger related that they had already had two helicopter evacuations that day alone, and that there are about 250 such operations each year. Well… I wasn’t going to be adding to that number. Their advice was for me to stay put in the a/c for a couple more hours, drink lots of cold electrolytes and chow down on some of the salty snacks that they provided. Which is exactly what I ended up doing. I can’t begin to convey not only my gratitude to these rangers, but also how very professional and downright nice they were. I also owe a big debt to Matt and Caleb for getting me through this as well, and for sacrificing what could have been a pretty fast crossing if they didn’t need to match my pace.

Where do we go when we die? he said. 
– I don’t know, the man said. Where are we now?

– Cormack McCarthy

Eventually we needed to be on the move again. We waited until about 4:00 pm. The sun was much lower in the sky, but we still had close to 7km, and 900m of elevation to cover. Whilst the rest and hydration did wonders for me, the damage had been done, and I was still in a bit of a hole. Nonetheless, onwards and upwards. There were still lots of folks on the trail. Mostly heading up. A few people mysteriously heading down. We (I) was moving slow, but moving. We were actually catching and passing people. One young gun came flying past us, seemingly on a mission. A kilometer or so later he had burned all of his matches and we passed him as he was sitting on a rock at side of trail. Not long after this we espied a group of 4 or 5 gentlemen up ahead. Matt or Caleb made some comment about us (me) catching them. Normally a target like this, and the good natured challenge wouldn’t have gone unanswered, but under the circumstances I didn’t have it in me. Yet… all it took was that tiny spark to ignite the albeit weak afterburners.

So… yeah, we did catch and pass those dudes, plus others. Including a couple of cool older dudes who were just finishing a north to south R2R crossing. Their wives were waiting on the south rim and were heckling them as they made their last steps to the top.

And that was it. We were done. We took a bunch of the obligatory photos, and chatted with some folks including those R2R guys. I was pretty worked over. It obviously was a bittersweet moment for me. Sure… doing an R3 is a huge, lifetime accomplishment. But I couldn’t (and stlll can’t) get over that it was significantly compromised or tainted by my time in the clinic. That should not have happened. We should have been able to be much smoother and quicker in our crossing. I’m thinking 5 hours quicker. Next time…

Postmortem analysis:

What worked well, and not so much…

One of the best things was the great matching sun hoodies I had made up. It was my wife’s idea to do it. The catchy phrase was my idea. We got lots and lots of comments on the shirts. It made people smile. Made me smile too.

I think my training was marginally up to the task overall. If anything could have been changed it would be that I should’ve had more actual running under my belt. I would not abandon the AGST at all, nor the trail work; just add more running, and eventually working up to much longer distances. At the end of the day a faster trip is going to require running more sections.

I really liked the comfort of my Black Diamond running vest. The things I really don’t like about it are the weight (heavy), the fact that it only has one flask sleeve on the front; and of course no ice axe loop(?) The Salomon ones that the lads had worked great, but are kind of shoddy construction, although they did hold up.

Our lighting systems worked great, and were totally up to the task. My real beef with the Kogalla Ra is the complicated and cumbersome way it attaches to the pack or vest. It makes it unnecessarily awkward in taking the pack on and off. The battery pack is heavy yes, but I was able to charge my dying watch with it so that’s a plus. Next time (?!?!) I might just use my BD Distance.

Speaking of watches. I need to figure out better battery life settings for my Suunto, so that I don’t need to recharge it en route.

We went when we went, and the nighttime method worked well enough. Everything being equal (again… next time!) I think that going in mid November would be a better option. Much lower daytime temperatures in the box would allow for a more conventional start time which in turn would give higher temperatures up on the north rim. Another plus to the conventional start time, is being more aligned with one’s circadian rhythms. It’s probably no secret that the record times happen around that time of year.

Food and water are undoubtedly the biggest area for improvements. The availability of water is (was) not really the issue. The issue is making sure I’m drinking enough at the right times. I think that I was drinking often enough, maybe just not enough at each time. Hand in hand with that is ensuring the right electrolyte balance. The Tailwind product doesn’t have near enough sodium in it for this type of effort and conditions. I will definitely be using LMNT for future such projects, even if it does taste like drinking a combination of sea water and battery acid. Food is another issue. Obviously calorie content is important, but so is weight, convenience and most of all palatability. I tried to have a blend of sugary and salty, but probably too far on the sugary side. Again the Tailwind is a good product in this regard, it’s just that I wasn’t consuming enough of it. And speaking of consumption, I didn’t do enough training at 300+ calories per hour to fully adapt to that load. Lots more work to be done here.

It looks a lot better from up here than it does down there, dont it?
Yes. It does.
There’s a lot of things look better at a distance.
Yeah?
I think so.
I guess there are. The life you’ve lived, for one.
Yeah. Maybe what of it you aint lived yet, too.

– Cormack McCarthy