Solo Backpacking Grand Canyon Rim-to-Rim-to-Rim: Day 3

I rolled out of bed at 5, a bit late really, but I didn’t need to break camp since this will be a day hike, a 20-miler at that. I decided to add more than five miles to the hike after attempting to eat an under-cooked dehydrated meal of Ukrainian borscht (completely different from Russian borscht, which I found odd for a country that is actually part of Russia). Mind you, I didn’t undercook the meal, and in fact doubled the time it sat in boiled water. The Canadian company that manufactured it, Nomad Nutrition, did the undercooking. And apparently when you eat undercooked beans, it will play hell with your gastrointestinal tract. Let me tell you, after forcing some of it down my gullet, I made several mad dashes to the compost John to rid myself of it. So the destination was no longer simply the North Rim; Today, I’m having lunch at the Grand Canyon Lodge Dining Room.

The thing about hiking from the Colorado River up to the North Rim is one passes through five of the seven ecosystems or life zones found in North America. This is akin to taking a road trip from Sonora, Mexico up to the Arctic coast of Canada. These life zones are the 1889 invention of biologist C. Hart Mirriam who studied plants and their ecosystems in which they lived, and was particularly taken with Arizona generally, and the Grand Canyon specifically, where altitude somewhat mimicked latitude, with temperature being the common denominator deciding which plant types thrived. The five zones he identified in the Grand Canyon are Riparian (river land), Lower Sonoran (marked by desert scrub), Upper Sonoran (pinyin-juniper woodland), Transitional (South Rim, ponderosa pine), and Canadian (North Rim, mixed conifer forest). Yesterday I started my hike in the Riparian and now, 8 miles and 1,340 feet of elevation gain later, I find myself here at Cottonwood Campground in the Lower Sonoran Zone. Today’s roundtrip to the North Rim includes 4,200 feet of elevation gain, and I will dine in the Canadian Zone, amid spruce and fir. Should be a relatively cool day as well.

I set off around 6:00 am. I figured it would take me four to five hours to reach the Lodge. I split the difference at 4 ½ hours. And man was it steep in sections, with 20-30% grades on many of the switchbacks. However, the trip up was spent almost entirely in shade as the canyon was deep and the sun was still low in the east. As I neared the top, on a newly rebuilt bridge, I asked a couple of rangers when I should start back, or when the sun would be low enough in the west to shadow the canyon. They suggested any time after three would work, so that is when I planned my return. I made the 10 miles back to Cottonwood in just at two hours.

Near the Manzanita Rest area 1 ½ miles up, I ran into a Chinese tour group, matching t-shirts and all. Naturally I sparked up a conversation in Mandarin, and that lasted a good five minutes. They were from Mainland China, Wuhan I believe. They said I could expect two other groups and I could tell them by their matching shirts. Apparently, the tour companies drop off a bus load of hikers at  the North Rim and collect them at the South Rim at the end of a very long day. I am curious to know the attrition rate of these groups and the logistics of collecting the hikers who couldn’t make it across.

Roaring Springs, which supplies drinking water via its pump house to both the north and south rims, the corridor water stops, and the corridor camp grounds.

The bridge where I ran into the rangers who suggested I wait until after 3:00 pm to return.

Looking back at the trail from whence I'd come.

Back when dynamite was a big part of trail building.
Need a tunnel through solid rock?
Hold my drink.

Only saw a few miserable burros and their riders this day. They really need to end this barbaric abuse of these animals for other animals' convenience.

At Coconino Overlook, where a volunteer ranger was stationed to talk about Coconino Overlook, and also offer to take folks pictures. Thanks, Ma'am.

Next set of portraits.

The Grand Canyon Lodge, built in the 1930s after the original burnt to the ground.

Pic of the Grand Canyon Lodge Dining Room I pilfered from the inter webs.

I dreamed of a veggie burger and fries on my way to the top as I still felt gentle GI rumblings from the previous night’s dinner, at least the first few miles. My first stop, after getting my picture taken by a ranger volunteer near the trailhead, was the visitor center to suss out the North Rim food offerings. The North Rim just opened for the season yesterday, May 15, as usual, but they were still trying to get back in the groove, being closed since October 15 of last year.  The Deli had no sandwiches yet, the Saloon was not set up for credit cards, and their menu was sketchy. That left me waiting an hour for the GC Lodge Dining Room to open at 11:30. I had plenty of time to kill before my departure,  so that was ok. They took my name down on their wait list and seated me at 11:45 with another lone diner, after asking our permission. The place was packed by noon and they were clearly understaffed, common at the South Rim as well. Apparently, rim jobs aren’t as coveted as they once were. 

My lunch companion was a thirty-something government contractor from Huntsville, Alabama who just completed a day hike over from the South Rim and was waiting for his return shuttle. He’d been working in Arizona and decided to take in the Canyon on his weekend off. He had to work the next day in Phoenix, poor un-retired guy.

I did indeed have my veggie burger and fries as I had envisioned/hallucinated. The anticipation wasn’t matched by the execution, but I was able to scratch an itch and eat my fill. I was still a little food insecure after the Ukrainian borscht episode. My dinner at Indian Garden two nights hence would rely on yet another Nomad Nutrition meal involving legumes and by now, I was practically bean averse. So I headed over to the North Rim Campground and their small outfitters store. There I loaded up on Clif bars and potato chips. And another tube of Nuun electrolyte tablets just in case. Most folks think the number one cause of heat distress is dehydration, but in the desert it’s actually hyponatremia, caused by over-hydration. Drinking too much water but not consuming enough salt and electrolytes. These electrolyte tablets and the potato chips, would take care of that.

I started back around four. It was still pretty cool at 8,200 feet even though the sun was still hitting the trail. The sun would soon dip behind a wall of Zoroaster granite and Vishnu schist.

About two miles down, I ran into the two women I gave water to yesterday, and who stayed the night at Cottonwood on NPS sleeping bags and ground cloth provided by the ranger. They were with their friend who was coaching them to the top, not to mention carrying two backpacks. They were struggling but would probably make it to the top before dusk. I saw very few people after that and made it back to Cottonwood by 6:00 pm.

My mileage for the trip thus far (taken at the Lodge). My mileage at Cottonwood prior to leaving was 16.5 so I had hiked 9.5 miles at that point in my day. After my trip to the camp store, and the return, I would just eclipse 20 miles for the day.

View from the Grand Canyon Lodge patio, looking southeast. The canyon in the lower right is Bright Angel Canyon, where the North Kaibab Trail wends its way.

Just as the rangers promised, shady trail the rest of the way.

Not a place to lose one's footing.

After a Crystal Lite lemonade & tequila margarita and a Marionberry indica edible, I would soon sleep the sleep of the dead. While I was waiting to nod off, the sky went suddenly dark, despite the impending moon rise. Apparently there was a lunar eclipse (I found out later). I was now, and for a few short minutes, able to see every light in the sky. When the moon did rise an hour or so later, I was drifting off to the soporific sounds of philosopher Alan Watt’s voice, spouting something metaphysical about the universe to attending nascent new-agers from his houseboat in the 60s. Not exactly a Carlos Castenada peyote trip, but I'll take it.

Photos That Didn't Make the Editor's Self-Satisfied Cut