Willing to Fail

In the summer of '75 a friend and I went on a ten-day backpacking adventure. We stopped at the Grand Canyon, hiked down to Phantom Ranch, and out the next day. I was seriously dehydrated on the climb, and it took me eight hours to cover the last four miles. Jack was waiting at the top of the South Rim with a quart of OJ and a six pack of Coors. The next morning found us passed out in the parking lot next to Jack's red Mustang.  

Ironically, this difficult first encounter led to a lifelong fascination with the grandest of canyons. 

In November 2012, I completed what is known as the Rim to Rim to Rim on my fourth attempt. The 45-mile round trip hike across the canyon and back took me fourteen hours. My youngest son Clark is an aspiring endurance athlete. Clark and I get together regularly to run and bike. The idea of doing R2R2R together kept coming up and we decided it was now or never. 

We flew out of MSP on a Friday afternoon last September enroute to Las Vegas. It was a short four-and-a-half-hour drive from LV to Tusayan, near the entrance to the south rim of Grand Canyon National Park. We awoke at 3:00 AM Saturday, loaded our running packs, and were on the South Kaibab trail by 4:00, headlamps glowing. The first five hours went well. We crossed the Colorado river before 6:00 and tagged Cottonwood Camp by 8:00, on pace to make the North Rim before 10:30. Around mile seventeen, Clark started to get leg cramps. We slowed our pace to see if symptoms would subside. After a mile we decided, I should continue to the North Rim, refill my water and meet with Clark on the way back. 

I left the North Rim around 10:30 and met Clark two miles down the trail. He hiked down with me for a half mile but his discomfort increased. In addition to muscle cramps he had a headache, nausea, and was short of breath. Endurance athletes call this hitting the wall or "Bonking." It happens when the glycogen stored in your muscle and liver are exhausted.

We decided Clark should return to the North Rim, his shortest route out, get a ride to the South Rim, and meet me at the car. The worst that could happen was I would get to the car before Clark and have to drive back to pick him up. I covered the seven miles down to Cottonwood in decent time. Even though my previous R2R2R was ten years ago, bettering my time of fourteen hours seemed a possibility. That fantasy was soon to implode. 

Shortly after I passed Cottonwood, my mouth went completely dry. One minute I was munching peanuts and suddenly I had no saliva. Dizziness and shortness of breath followed. Several years ago, I spent time in a Colorado ER after an intense climb. Two liters of IV fluids and a stern lecture later, I was educated on the consequences of severe dehydration coupled with over exertion. Our brain has a circuit breaker that overrides the operator's attempts to continue working at unsustainable levels. (i.e life threatening) I recognized these symptoms as a warning to heed.    

After a few minutes weighing my options, I decided to return to Cottonwood Camp and seek assistance. There is no cell signal in the canyon, but Cottonwood has an emergency landline phone. I called the switchboard operator.  A few minutes later I was talking to Ryan, the on call EMT. He agreed that I needed to stop hiking immediately and give my body time to recover. He told me how to unlock the emergency locker behind a supply office. It contained electrolytes, salty snacks, power bars, and sleeping bags. He recommended I spend the night and hike out via North Rim in the morning as it was the shortest and easiest route out. It took a few seconds to grasp the consequences of this unexpected change. Missing our flight back, informing followers of our plight without creating panic, coordinating logistics with Clark, all through an intermediary who was managing multiple crises in the Canyon. 

I gave Ryan Clark's cell number and asked him to update Clark on my status. I opened the lock box and reviewed its inventory. Unexpectedly, I was neither hungry nor thirsty. Clark and I had been drinking and eating hourly as we hiked and jogged, knowing this was critical to our mission. Could it be we had exceeded our cardiovascular systems’ ability to keep up with the demands of our efforts?  Like the proverbial frog that fails to realize the water temperature has reached boiling point before being scalded to death, Clark and I were oblivious to lower canyon temps in the high 90's. Bundle that with jogging fourteen miles uphill from the River at 2000' to the North Rim at 8000'. At that moment, sixty years of well-intentioned familial counsel came back to haunt me, "What the hell were you thinking?"

I tried to get comfortable resting on a matt in the shade under the supply shed overhang. The disappointment of defeat equaled my physical discomfort. Spending a night in the canyon meant sixteen mind numbing hours of inactivity. Around 3:30, a group of hikers arrived at Cottonwood. It was four men about my age heading towards the North Rim. Twenty minutes later they were still resting, and I sensed my condition was improving. I introduced myself to Matt, who appeared to be the oldest member of the group and explained that I had abandoned my round trip effort and returned to Cottonwood to rest. However, I believed I could keep up with them as they hiked out. Without hesitation they invited me to join.

I made a quick call to Ryan so he could update Clark. Ryan was adamant that I spend the night. Having a relapse after sundown at higher elevation on the trail could be catastrophic.  There is no shelter, temperatures drop into the teens, and the trail is often barely a sliver of path bordered by sheer cliffs. I thanked Ryan for his concern, made him promise to tell Clark I was heading for the North Rim, and left Cottonwood with my new companions feeling better with every step.

After a laborious couple miles, it became evident Matt had reached his maximum daily capacity for exertion. For every ten minutes of hiking, we rested five and the ratio was trending lower as the trail got steeper. Manzanita rest stop was the last shelter on the way north. Thanks to my recent knowledge regarding the emergency locker and its contents, we decided if Manzanita was similarly equipped, Matt and Randy, another member of the Cottonwood foursome, would stay at Manzanita for the night and hike out in the morning. We found the locker with snacks, foam pad and sleeping bags. Matt and Randy wished the remaining three of us luck as we departed Manzanita.

It was now six miles to the North Rim and an hour till sunset. As the remaining three of us got to know each other, they suggested I lead the group given my knowledge of the trail. About sundown we came upon another hiker resting on the trail. Nick had left the South Rim early morning planning to do the R2R2R. Ten hours later he was four miles from the North Rim with only a day pack. Matt had offered me his room at the sold-out Canyon Lodge so I let Nick know he was welcome to use my room. There was a chance we may have to share depending on Clark's progress but at least no one would have to spend the night outside. I was guessing Clark found a ride back to the car. For all I knew he may have been stranded at the north Rim as well.

We reached mile marker one around 7:30 PM. Another member of the original four became nauseous and started hyperventilating. We were getting close to eight thousand feet elevation and may have been hiking a little fast. He insisted we continue on as the wives waiting for their arrival would be relieved to get a report ASAP.  As I rounded the last switchback to the trailhead and my headlamp became visible, a female voice started calling the names of my companions. I shouted back I was not one of them but had good news. It was nearly 9:00 before the last hiker reached the trailhead.

It was a two-mile drive from the trailhead to Canyon Lodge where we had reception. I immediately called Clark. If I thought my last eight hours had been interesting, the "Clark Update'' reminded me his assignment was equally challenging. The best news was Ryan had followed my instructions. Clark's North Rim ETA was 11:00 PM. Clark and I reached the Sand and Surf Hotel in Kanab Utah at 2:00 AM Sunday morning, 23 hours and 7000 calories after we had gotten up at Tusayan. Despite having an 8:00 AM flight out of Las Vegas, we decided to sleep till we woke and arrange travel plans in the morning. 

Sunlight and habit had us up and on the road at 7:00. While we were in the process of checking flights, I got a text from Sun Country. Our flight was delayed till 3:00 PM and we would receive a $100 voucher. Woo hoo! How often is an eight-hour flight delay the answer to your prayers?

With the humility and gratitude of failed adventurers rescued by providence, Clark and I stopped for breakfast and Starbucks in St George Utah. We even had time to watch the first preseason Vikings game at a Las Vegas brewery before heading to the airport around 2:00.

As the plane took off from LV International, Clark and I were in agreement. Despite coming up short of our goal, we had made the effort, effectively adjusted to the realities of the situation, and are better positioned to succeed if we attempt a similar feat in the future, although Linda says this will be over my dead body.      

I am not advocating intentionally overextending yourself at the risk of physical harm or participating in death defying activities. However, exposing yourself to failure and constructively processing the experience has value. Personal growth requires us to challenge ourselves to be uncomfortable. Every once in a while, it's OK to test your limits and attempt an endeavor where the outcome is unknown and success less than assured.     

Just make sure you have a solid back up plan.

Jim