Grand Canyon Double – North Kaibab to Grandview Point – 83 miles

The spectacular beauty of the Grand Canyon called me back.   With the long Thanksgiving weekend, I decided to again do an extended double crossing (R2R2R) in a non-traditional way.   I would descend down the North Kaibab, from the North Rim, but instead of going up the South Rim using the usual trails, I would run 20 miles upriver along the primitive Tonto Trail and ascend up the unmaintained Grandview Trail to the South Rim.   Then I would head back the same way.   The total distance would be about 83 miles.  I had accomplished this double crossing back in October 2007 and knew it was a very tough challenge.   If you look at the hiking guides and total up the recommended time to take for all these segments, it should be a ten-day adventure.   I hoped to accomplish it in about 28 hours.   Last time it took me 34:07 with plenty of sight-seeing along the way

The risks are high for a solo adventure like this but I tried to take some reasonable precautions.   The weather would be cool about 35-45 degrees for most of the adventure.  This double-crossing would require obtaining water in two springs (in addition to faucets at Roaring Spring and Phantom Ranch), and I would have to carry all of my food.  I wore a waist pack and a 10-pound pack with all my food and electronics.   Adding on water and I would be carrying quite a bit of weight.

Included in the pack would be some emergency items:  A satellite phone and a Spot tracking device.   Friends would be able to track my progress online throughout the adventure.  I would take food/powder/gel enough to intake about 6,000 calories.   My food sources would be:  three burittos, two Hot Pockets, lots of Instant Breakfast, Hammer Gel, and Resses cups.    I did bring more water containers than usual.  Three water bottles and a 2-liter camel back.  There would be a 17-mile stretch without any water sources.  The number of electronics I brought was silly; Camera, MP3, GPS, mini recorder, satellite phone, and Spot Tracker.

I worry that some unprepared readers may want to attempt this route too.  This adventure requires rugged 100-mile ultra-level fitness and advanced experience in the Grand Canyon.  Timing is critical.  I would never attempt a long run on the Tonto trail in the heat.   Springs and creeks need to be flowing.   November would be the safest time.   Attempting it in May-August would be foolish and deadly.

After eating a wonderful Thankgiving dinner with extended family, I headed down toward the North Rim.  The Spot device worked great.  My wife was able to track me as I drove.  When I called at Kanab, she already knew where I was.

I started my run a little after 11:00 p.m.   It was a frigid 18 degrees at the trailhead.  It had only been five days since I complete my last R2R2R.   My quads were still a little sore, but loosened up fast.  However, all the weight I was carrying could be felt right away and slowed my pace down.  There was a half-moon in the sky and it cast a nice eerie glow on the cliffs above as I descended quickly.   I stopped several times on the way down to make adjustments with my gear.    I really enjoy running down into the canyon during the night.   There was no one on the trail.

I reached Phantom Ranch (mile 14), at the bottom of the Canyon, at 2:14 a.m.   There wasn’t anyone around.   I filled up all my water containers, preparing for no more water until Grapevine Spring, 17 miles and 7 hours away.

I ran along the Colorado River, crossed over Black Bridge and then started the steep climb up South Kaibab trail.   My legs really appreciated the uphill after the long downhill run into the canyon.   Before I knew it, I was at the “Tip off” (mile 16.7) where the Tonto Trail crosses the South Kaibab trail, 1,500 feet above the Colorado River.  I arrived there at 3:42 a.m.   Looking up, I could not see anyone’s lights coming down South Kaibab Trail yet. I was all alone.

I now left “civilization.”   I started to run on the East Tonto Trail.   The Tonto Trail is the longest continuous stretch of trail in the Grand Canyon. It runs some 70 miles or more from its eastern terminus at the Red Canyon/New Hance Trail to its western terminus at Elves Chasm near the Royal Arch Route.  I’ve run on about 45 miles of this trail.  This unmaintained trail is at times difficult to see, just a trail worn my occasional backpackers.   It rolls up and down and in and out of numerous side canyons.   The East Tonto Trail is more rugged then West Tonto Trail and has more prickly brush to contend with.  This year I came prepared.  I wore long tights and long sleeves.  By the time I completed my run on this trail, my shirt and pants would be snagged all over.   They really protected my skin and made it possible for me to ignore the prickly branches reaching out for me.   The trail is never straight as it weaves through all the brush.

I reached Cremation Canyon (mile 19.3) at about 4:30 a.m.   In this canyon, the trail is very rugged and challenging because instead of over going around, it dives nearly straight down and up three drainages, each several hundred feet deep.

As I ran through this area, I thought about several people who had lost their lives here.   In particular, I thought about a Marathon runner, Margret Bradley. This 24-year-old University of Chicago medical student attempted a 27-mile run down Grandview Trail, across Tonto Trail, and up South Kaibab.  A few months earlier Bradley had run the Boston Marathon in 3:04:54.  She was ill-prepared and attempted it on July 9, 2004, in the heat of the summer.  She only took with her two water bottles, some fruit, and three protein bars.  Temperatures in the Cremation Creek Drainage likely reached 120 degrees.  Halfway into the run, she and her companion, Brian, ran low on water and decided to separate.  Brian stayed in some shade and Margaret went on to get help.  Apparently when she reached Cremation Creek, she decided to hike down the drainage toward the river instead continuing up the trail just a couple more miles to South Kaibab.   After 14 hours, Brian made it out of the canyon, but Margaret, far off the trail was found dead two days later.

My next destination would be Lonetree Canyon (mile 22.3).  As the trail climbs back up onto the Tonto Plateau, it fades because the ground is harder.  I knew this section would be a navigation challenge so instead of getting frustrated, I made it into a fun challenge.   It required good concentration.  At the speed I was trying to run, it couldn’t be avoided, I lost the trail 2-3 times.   I had my GPS running and before the run had marked many waypoints for just this reason.  Each time, using my GPS, I would find the trail again within 2-3 minutes.  Even though it was still dark, I didn’t stress out about it.  However, without the GPS in the dark, this would have been a major challenge.

I reached Lonetree Canyon (mile 22.3) at 5:49 a.m.   I saw a tent set up and did my best to stay quiet, but I could hear someone stirring inside, probably wondering what some guy with a green light was doing running by during the night out in such a remote area.

I next wanted to reach Boulder Creek (mile 25.3) before light and almost made it.   I reached there at 6:50 a.m.  Gee, my first marathon today was taking over 7 hours.  It felt like I was going very fast, but with all the zig-zagging, steep climbs, and stops to adjust things, the time ticked away.   I doubt the published distance for the Tonto Trail.  It seems much further.  GPSes lose signals and can’t measure it right.   The weaving around brush certainly adds miles.

The Grand Canyon, the wonder of the world, came to life!   The dawn arrived and my eyes were treated with a scene very few people have experienced.   In the depths of this massive canyon, I was able to watch the effects of the sunrise.

My pace slowed even more as I had to stop over and over again to take pictures.   It was spectacular to watch the effects of the morning sunlight reflect off of the cliffs all around me from the Tonto Trail. I was filled with feelings of gratitude, knowing that I was experiencing something very rare.

I eventually reached Grapevine Creek (mile 31) at about 8:45 a.m.  I took a very long break there to fix hot spots on a foot and to call home.   It gave me a very comforting feeling to hear my wife’s voice on the other end of the Satellite phone.  I knew that I now was in a very remote area.   On the trail again, I soon arrived at Grapevine Spring.  During the past seven hours I had only drank three liters because of the chilly temperatures in the 30s.   I was always warm if moving, but not dressed too warm.   I still had a jacket wrapped around my waist.

The next 5.5 miles were very runnable, much less rugged.  I was able to find a nice pace but still delayed because of the beauty to look at. I decided that it was more important to try to capture the wonder of this adventure. That was more important than finding speed.

When I reached Cottonwood Creek (mile 36.5), I ran into the first humans on the trail. I would now see many backpackers and hikers during my climb up to the South Rim.  Some would ask me where I was coming from.  I would try to explain but would just get blank expressions back.  They had no idea where the North Rim was. One guy looked across the canyon and asked, “How did you get across the river?”   I pointed far away from where he was looking and explained I used the bridge near Phantom Ranch.  “So you ran all the way here on the Tonto Trail?”  “Yes, I started at the North Rim a little before midnight.”  I should have recorded these conversations because they were pretty funny.

I next attacked the Grandview Trail, 3,700 more feet to climb to reach the South Rim. The Grandview Trail was originally constructed by a prospector by the name of Peter Berry. Berry operated a copper mine called the “Last Chance Mine” at the end of the trail, out on Horseshoe Mesa starting in 1890.  The cost of packing ore to the rim, then shipping it to be refined, doomed the operation.   Berry and his partners sold the mine in 1901.  Berry used some of the profits from the mine to build the Grandview Hotel in 1897 out on Grandview Point. He operated this for some years and since it was the only lodging available in the area, it proved to be a very successful venture. That is until the Santa Fe Railroad extended its reach up into the Canyon which sparked construction of what is now Grand Canyon Village.

The trail was much steeper than I remembered.  There were long sections without switchbacks that reminded me of climbing up Jacobs Ladder to Lone Peak in Utah.  Up on Horseshoe Mesa, I visited the Last Chance Mine (gated) and then continued the very tough push to the top.  Some of the cobble stone, now over 100 years old was still in place.  I became discouraged at my pace, but I was still climbing faster than the hikers and backpackers.

I finally reached the top of the South Rim, Grandview Point (mile 41.6) at 1:40 p.m.   I had hoped to arrive by noon.    The viewing area was filled with tourists.   I knew that I probably looked like a mess, and smelled terrible, so I kept to myself.   One family asked me to take their picture.  I knew that I could at this point take a slacker’s choice and hitch a ride to South Kaibab trailhead to cut out 25 miles from my return journey.  But I pushed those thoughts from my head.

After a short rest I was on my way again.  I received many puzzled looks from hikers who had seen me before as I was going up.   “How many times are you going up and down?”   I tried to explain that I was running back to the North Rim.   I would usually leave by saying that my run would be 83 miles.  I knew that would give them something interesting to talk about.   I realized that I was probably the only person ever to do this, and this was the second time I would accomplish this.

Once I returned to Cottonwood Creek (mile 46.7) at 3:30 p.m. I knew there was no turning back.  I now had really no other choice but to continue on back to my car, parked at the North Rim.   The afternoon was a little warmer, but not much.  However, I was going through my water at a much faster pace.  By the time I reached the creek, I was nearly empty.   I filled back up at the creek.

I decided there would be no more time spent on photo shoots and audio recordings.  I needed to shift my attention to my pace.   I saw my last humans on the trail a couple miles later as the trail swings out above the Colorado River.  The young backpacking couple was surprised to see me and asked where I was headed.   I explained and they were all smiles as they wished me luck.

I bypassed Grapevine Spring because I still had plenty of water and returned back to Grapevine Creek (mile 52.2) at about 5:15 p.m.   On the trail there, I found my warm hat sitting undisturbed right in the middle of the trail that I had lost it on my outbound trip.  It was evidence that no humans were in the area during the day.  I was glad I found it because it was starting to get chilly.   I called my wife again from the exact spot that I had called her in the morning.   That day sure went by fast.

The next six hours (and 15 miles) running in the dark on the Tonto Trail were pretty uneventful and lonely.   I didn’t see any tents along the way.  I was alone.   When the trail was distinct, it was rugged.  In many places, it was very feint.  It required intense concentration to follow the boot prints winding around the brush.  I was proud of myself, because I was getting very good at it, better than the early morning before.   However, as I became drowsy, my concentration declined and near Cremation Creek, I had to use the GPS several times in order to get back on the trail.

It had now been nearly 40 hours within any sleep.   I didn’t have any bad hallucinations, but my mind started to get mushy and I started to sleep dream as I ran along.   This was a very strange experience.   I was awake, but my mind was going to sleep.   As I was going down a very steep section into Cremation Creek, I had some sort of dream where I became upset because someone I knew had purposely constructed this trail without switchbacks just to torment me.  Eventually, I fully woke up again and it felt like waking up from a dream.  I laughed at myself and tried hard to remember the dream, but as with a real dream, it quickly faded.   This happened to me several times and I had to keep laughing at myself because of the silly dream-like thoughts coming into my head.

I really struggled on the ups and down through Cremation Canyon, losing the trail despite the numerous trail markers in the area.   I could see high up in the darkness to my left, lights of hikers coming down into the canyon.   They would flash their lights toward me and I would flash back.

I finally reached South Kaibab trail (mile 66.5), at the “Tip Off”, at 11:18 p.m.   It felt good to be off the Tonto Trail and back to “civilization.”   My pace was discouraging, but I really had no idea how many miles I had traveled.   The steep decent on the switchbacks to the river were very tough.  My feet were becoming very sore and I started to stumble because of lack of sleep.  I had no other choice but to take rests along the way.   I didn’t want to sleepwalk off a cliff.

I finally returned to Phantom Ranch (mile 69.2) at about 12:20 a.m.   I had wanted to get back by midnight, so I did pretty well.  All was quiet again as the tourists were asleep for the night.  Oh, how I wished for sleep!   I pulled out my remaining food to stuff in my pockets, filled my bottles, and rested my feet.  After a long stop I was on the way.   This would be my 14th tough climb up this trail.  I knew what to expect and tried hard not to think about the 14 miles ahead.

I now really struggled with drowsiness.   I recalled how last weekend, buddy Jon had rolled off the trail down four feet.  As I started to stumble around, I shined my light down off the trail to the creek below and decided it would be very stupid to fall off because I was sleeping.  I found a nice smooth place on the side of the trail and lay down.   It felt wonderful.  As I was drifting off to sleep, it happened again, just like at Javelina 100 last month!   Four hikers arrived and woke me up, concerned that I was having problems.  I assured them that I was just resting.  I was too tired to try to explain that I had been awake for 41 hours and had run over 70 miles.

Now fully awake again, I decided to jump up and get moving again.  These fast-paced hikers would give me something to chase.  They had a great pace and I kept their lights in my sights for several miles.  It turned out that they had been camping up ahead at Cottonwood Campground.  I suspect that they did a two-day R2R2R with a base camp at the campground.   I took a few more catnaps before arriving at the campground.  I arrived there (mile 76.3) at 3:50 a.m.   My watch showed 5:00 a.m.   That really puzzled me.  I concluded that I had actually slept a long time during one of my cat naps (On my way home, I discovered that actually with my head lying on my arm, I somehow made my watch jump in time).

I was supposed to call into a KSL radio outdoor program at 6:00 a.m.   My Sat phone had a good signal, so I decided since it was after 5:00 (it wasn’t), I would just try to snooze at the campground for an hour and wait.   The hikers came by me and invited me to return to the North Rim with them.  That was nice, but I was too tired to explain about the radio call.  I declined their invitation.  But soon the Sat phone signal faded and I was getting chilled.  Waiting would be stupid.  I decided to get back to work and start the grueling climb.    As the canyon walls got higher, I knew there would be no hope in getting a signal to call the radio program, so I didn’t worry about it anymore.

The final six miles were tough and very slow.   Everything started to hurt and I was so sleepy.   I stopped to rest about a dozen times.   At 7:00 a.m., I was very puzzled that it was still very dark.  What was going on?  This was very strange.  (My watch was wrong).   Finally the light came and day hikers started to come down.  The first two had ultrarunning shirts on, but I didn’t want to stop their fast pace to talk.   One knowledgeable hiker stopped me, asked where I came from.  He understood immediately where Grandview was and just how far I had come.  He was flabbergasted and offered me any help.   I assured him that I was fine, just moving slowly.

With daylight on the North Kaibab trail, I could peer down the steep cliffs.   It boggled my mind and scared me.  I hiked carefully, hugging the walls. Wow, last week I ran down this trail almost at full speed in the dark.  That is crazy.  If I could have seen what was off to the left, I would have slowed way down.

I finally reached Supai Tunnel (mile 81.2) with just two miles and 2,000 feet to go.   That seems so very far, and I tried not to dwell upon it.   With each 100 feet up, I would think, “That is now behind me, look how far up I am!”    I noticed that I could beat my 34:07 PR for this route if I really pushed it hard.  It was really painful, but I did it.   I finished in 33:58 at 8:53 a.m.

Why was I so slow?   Looking back, I realize that a Grandview R2R2R is about as difficult as a quad-crossing of the Grand Canyon.  It felt like I had just finished a 100-mile race.  Overall, there was about 19,000 feet of climbing over that 83+ miles.    I did this without two nights of sleep.   I saw two sunrises during my run.

Why did I torture myself like that?   The reward was watching both a sunrise and a sunset down on the Tonto Trail deep in the canyon.  I also greatly enjoyed the navigation challenge on the trail. Will do this route again?  Unlikely.   I’m getting old and this is tough.   But this I do know, 100-mile races help me get in shape for the true reward, adventure runs like this.

How did hold up?   I consumed about 5,000 of the 6,000 calories I carried.   Not enough, but it got me through.   My feet took a beating because of the extra pounds I carried.  With all my gear, clothes, and water, I had about 200 pounds on my feet.  But, no serious blisters resulted.  My problem ankle acted up, but a day later feels OK.   The big surprise is, that a day later my legs aren’t sore at all.  The slow pace was kind on my muscles.