I hate hiking. A year ago, I hiked the Grand Canyon.

Everyone who I’ve ever met knows I’m an active person. To the chagrin of my therapist, I like to joke that I’m a shark; if I stop moving, I’ll die. It’s a surprise to many of my acquaintances, then (my friends know better), that I abhor hiking. As a ~fitness professional~, I love working out, playing mid-length endurance sports, and even sweating and being sore. But hiking? Hiking sucks. My hands swell, I have to drink way more water than anyone I’ve ever hiked with, making my backpack super heavy, and that means there is less (or no) room for snacks. I need snacks. Lastly, I’m a slow hiker. I got these little legs that do not go fast, and the people I hiked with in the past have left me behind. Every. Single. Time. A combination of physical distress and loneliness made me swear off hiking forever. So, 13 months ago, when a client I had been training to hike in and out of the Grand Canyon called to ask me to fill in a last-minute opening, what did I do? I said yes. 

This looks like a postcard!

My love of new and unique experiences outweighed my disdain for the third most popular outdoor activity in America. Also fueling my delusion that I could even do this was the love I have for my friend. It meant a lot to me that she wanted me to have this once-in-a-lifetime experience with her. Plus, there were two last minute open slots, and I got to bring my buddy, a psychopath backpacking enthusiast whose dream was to hike the Grand Canyon. Call me friend of the year. 

 

Remember that bit about my client? Yeah. I had been training her for four months to get into hiking shape. I’m in great shape...for the gym. 

I had 2.5 weeks.

A view from the top

So happy. So foolish.

 

More postcard views!

The south rim was in the upper 40s when we got to the trailhead at the crack of dawn. (That’s another thing I hate about hiking; you have to wake up disgustingly early.) While starting out a bit chilly, the cold air felt pretty good once I started walking. We took the South Kaibab Trail, a 7.1-mile-long maintained path from the south rim to Phantom Ranch, our lodgings for the next two nights. Hiking into the Grand Canyon wasn’t so bad. With nearly a one-mile descent, gravity helped quite a bit, and I was somehow the first person to reach The Tipoff, our lunch meeting spot. By then, the temps were in the 70s and climbing fast. I knew my speed wouldn’t hold out, so I set off with the first cmpany on the final leg, stopping very frequently to take in some breathtaking views and chug my Liquid IV.

Phantom Ranch, as seen from the South Kaibab Trail

My friend and I made it to Phantom Ranch around 3:00pm. Our group won the lottery to stay at the ranch in two 10-preson cabins, which included dinner. The Phantom Ranch Canteen offers two evening meal sittings: a 5:00pm steak dinner and a 6:30pm beef stew or vegetarian chili dinner. Our group leader, H, elected for us to enjoy the later sitting both nights of our stay. Both the stew and the chili were delicious, although the chili was a bit spicy for this delicate palate. After dinner, I took what felt like the most luxurious cold shower in the world, then with a full belly and clean feet, I slipped under the covers of my top bunk and drifted off.

H was kind enough to set us up for the late seating of breakfast the next morning, which was still 6:30 am. I get it; most people only stay one night at the ranch, and to hike out, you want an early start, but I really could have used a 9:30 brunch that day, complete with mimosas. I did, however, get a full breakfast with eggs, bacon, pancakes, orange juice, and as much coffee and a girl could drink, so tha's something. Part of breakfast service is a packed lunch for your hiking adventures. The service is top notch. I only wish they weren’t handed out in plastic bags. 😒

Our second day was spent at leisure. The North Kaibab Trail to the North Rim was closed due to heavy snow, but the few miles at the bottom were still open, and so almost our entire group took a “short” hike along Bright Angel Creek into the Box, just north of Phantom Ranch along North Kaibab trail. I was assured it would only be a couple miles to keep from being sore. Thankfully the entire out-and-back was mostly flat, because I logged 8 miles on my Apple Watch. What could possess me to walk 8 miles in a day, having just walked similarly the day prior and expecting a longer, uphill hike the next? I have no idea.

The night sky in Phantom Ranch is unlike anything
I had ever seen, and worth all the torture I
endured over this 3-day trek.

After returning to our cabin in mid-afternoon, my friend and I rested for a bit, then joined several of the others for a swim. We met up at a sandbar on the shore of the Colorado River just upstream of where Bright Angel Creek feeds into the mighty waters that carved the Grand Canyon over 5 million years ago. The water in the river was cold, but the air temp was 100ºF (38C),
so I personally found it refreshing. I jumped right in, and spent considerable time wading in the water. A few of my traveling companions, on the other hand, needed
a bit more persuasion. We had a great time sunbathing
and swimming, and one by one began to head back to the cabins for showers before another dinner of stew and chili. After some stargazing, it was time to get to bed early for what I knew would be the worst part of the journey, the hike out. 

We woke just before 5:00 am. Gross. We took the early breakfast seating, and my friend and I got a head start ahead of the rest of the group. Uphill is not my strong suit, and I knew I would need a sizeable lead if I wanted to make it out and not keep everyone else waiting for hours at the top. 

The only good part of the trail for me.

What a miserable hike! Five minutes in, just barely out of sight of our cabins, I rolled my ankle. I had sprained it just a week before (and had a major injury 4 years ago), so I knew this could happen. I used a special taping method for extra stability, wore a sturdy brace, and bought high-top HOKA hiking shoes. Alas, my efforts only protected my weak ass ankle so much. I popped some ibuprofen, cried a little, and carried on. I was not about to take the most expensive helicopter ride over the Grand Canyon imaginable. 

The Devil's Corkscrew

We took the Bright Angel Trail out of the canyon, a 9.1-mile path that dumps hikers out at the top right by all the lodges. Within the first hour of hiking, we were passed by every other person in our group. At Havasupai Gardens, everyone stopped for a water and snack break. This is the only water station on the trail, so everybody tops up here. As for me, I had already sucked down my entire 5L by this point. This was not a good sign; the steepest part of the climb was yet to come, despite the fact that we already went through the Devil’s Corkscrew (truly, an apt name). This is also where my mood fully quit.
I was tired and my ankle was killing me, plus my friend had wandered off ahead of me, leaving me to hike into the campground alone (don’t worry; we had a fight about it). 

We still had 4.5 miles to go. 

A ranchero rides a mule into the
canyon with a group of tourists.
They had the right idea.

Boy, were those last 4.5 miles rough. I ran out of water with a mile and a half to go, and resorted to sucking on hard candies to keep my mouth from drying out. We were lucky that we left so early in the day, as the hot sun was beating down on us. And for once I was thankful for the mile of elevation gain, because the weather at the rim would be 30+ degrees cooler than at Phantom Ranch at the hottest part of the day. The last half mile consists of the steepest switchbacks on the whole route, dusty and filled with tourists taking short hikes into the canyon. We paused frequently, both to let hikers (and mules) pass, and to catch our breaths. Okay, so I could catch my breath. With about 300 yards to go, we caught up to a few other members of our group, my client among them, and also one who had been claiming all week that he would be the last one out of the canyon. He ensured it; he was sitting there taking a leisurely rest as I limped my way past him. Our entire cohort was waiting at the top for us, and as we emerged over the cliff edge, we were met with cheers. Finally, the whole band could go off to their rooms at the lodge and nap before dinner.

 

Once at the top, it was flat, paved sidewalks the last quarter mile to our room. If I could have, I would have called an Uber. I would have paid someone to carry me in a wheelbarrow, I was so over it. Yet somehow, I managed to claw my way to the room, fill the bathtub with cold water, and plunge my feet and ankles. Sweet relief! 

Our campaign wrapped up that evening with happy hour in one of the rooms (a full case of Washington wines provided by yours truly as thanks for letting me
tag along) and a scrumptious dinner at El Tovar. We were in good spirits, with good company, and had just enough alcohol to numb the aches in, well, our entire bodies. 

Just before dessert, one member of our group broke the 3-day rule and asked me, “so, would you do it again?” 

“F*@% no.”