Travel Biography - Week 61.

Mad Dogs and - Hikers?

Lately, there has been quite a bit of publicity in the media about walking 10,000 steps daily to stay healthy. For a man of average height, this is approximately five miles, or between two to two-and-a-half hours, depending on the pace. However, within the last couple of days, there was some talk of a 5,000 or even a 2,500-step walk without compromising on one's health and well-being. Translating all that into the reality of life, I have wondered just how many around here go out voluntarily for a five-mile walk. Sure enough, where I live, dog walkers abound - quite a nuisance for a passing cyclist like me who has to put up with Towser's barking whilst pulling on its lead. But I doubt that they cover five miles in one go.

Grand Canyon at Sunset. The Shadow of Eve is to the right.

When living in a car-centred society, where frequent motorised journeys can be as short as a hundred metres, without a doubt, these health promoters have a point. But for me at least, there is quite a difference between a five-mile walk on flat territory and a 23-mile round trip into a ravine which is deeper than the height of Ben Nevis from sea level, the highest mountain in the United Kingdom.

And so, there I was, lying face down on a bench at the South Rim of the Grand Canyon, amidst the wooden huts built by Fred Harvey which make up the Village. It took me around 45 hours to complete the hike, starting two days earlier at the South Rim trailhead, then taking in Phantom Ranch for the first night on the Canyon floor, Havasupai Gardens and Tonto Plateau vistas on the way back up, and an unscheduled second night spent in the hut of the 1.5-mile rest stop, nearly 21.5 miles from the start of the whole hike.

The overnight stop was necessary after developing severe cramps down my left thigh to my lower leg muscles, thus temporarily immobilising me. After a couple of passing hikers carried my rucksack to the rest station, they carried on towards the Rim whilst I had a fitful sleep in the hut. After daybreak, I managed to finish the hike by struggling up the final 1.5-mile incline until exiting the trailhead.

The Cause of the Muscle Cramps.

Presently, a Park Ranger approached me and calling me by name, asked if I was okay, as I looked unwell. He then asked me if I would see a doctor. The fee for a visit would be $200, the Ranger informed me.

I cried out that here in America, no way would I see a doctor! Then the Ranger offered me a lift in his car to the Park Clinic, where I would be seen by a nurse free of charge. I accepted his offer as I first loaded my rucksack into the car and climbed in myself.

The ride was very short, only a couple of minutes. During that moment, he announced that when off duty, he was an active triathlete, his multi-discipline sport of swimming, cycling, and running was not unfamiliar to me and goes well with his duties of policing the trails and rescuing distressed hikers.

We arrived at the clinic and I was met by the nurse, and after collecting my gear, the Ranger drove off. When I told her what my symptoms were, when and where they occurred, she immediately recognised that I had suffered from hyponatremia. This means that the salt level in my bloodstream had reached a dangerous low, due to drinking too much water whilst on the move. With the blood diluted, the muscles react, causing severe cramps. She told me to climb onto the bed and lay down for an hour. She also gave me a cup of Gatorade, an electrolyte drink meant to restore blood-salt levels. 

After offering me the drink, the nurse departed, leaving me alone in a quiet room, away from the hustle and bustle of Canyon Rim activities. I rested for the full hour as instructed. Although the whole of my body felt "weird", at least the pain had gone. I was very fortunate. At least I avoided the dreadful humiliation of being rescued - to be seen riding a mule uphill behind the Ranger's mule and perhaps behind the beast carrying my rucksack as well, as I saw that poor, unfortunate female hiker rescued after overestimating her abilities back in 1978. Indeed, I could have ended up like her, with memories scarred for life, and made even worse by an astronomical bill to pay afterwards.

But worse than all that, had the blood diluted further, that would have affected the heart and resulted in a fatality. Apparently, hyponatremia might have killed a few hikers throughout history, but it's well below the main killer, heatstroke. Despite the discomfort and the inconvenience that came with it, I believe that I got away with it lightly. The entire hike was a success, and as I was still to find out, my photography mission was also successfully completed, making up for the dire loss suffered in 1978.

The first visit was in 1978. Plateau Point is lower left.

In 1995. At the River.

I returned to the main Village without waiting for the nurse to dismiss me. My walking was okay as I made my way to the overlook near Kolb Studio. Looking down into the Canyon, it was hard to believe that just 24 hours earlier I was way down there, at that thin line emerging from a narrow strip of greenery now called Havasupai Gardens, then crossing the flat shelf to end abruptly at the rim of the Inner Gorge. Indeed, although it looks so far away, Plateau Point is up to 974 metres below the Village in elevation, or 3,195 feet, and a 4.5-mile hike one way from Village to Point. 

Those two dreadful words then came into my mind. IF ONLY... IF ONLY... If only I had a better understanding of human biology about desert hiking! In my rucksack was a bag of nuts I bought at a store on our way to the Rim from Flagstaff. Most of them were still there, uneaten. If only I ate them for lunch whilst sitting at Havasupai Gardens just before setting off to Plateau Point. Or, better still, snack on them while I was admiring the views offered. Who knows, I might have exited the trailhead unscathed the previous evening. The Bright Angel Trail taught me some lifelong lessons this time in 1995.

I could have bought a ticket at Bright Angel Lodge to board a public coach back to Flagstaff, but instead, I decided to spend one more night here at the Rim. I wasn't up for travel just yet. Instead, I wanted to recover further before moving on. However, there was more to see and admire. That evening, I watched the sunset over the Grand Canyon from the view of the Rim. How remarkable the buttes threw their shadows across the landscape, creating a vista which was quite different from the daytime view. From Battleship Rock, a shadow is cast known as Eve's Silhouette, taken from the Biblical character where all other names were taken from Eastern religions. 

Later that night, I lay on the floor in a restroom, using the rucksack as a pillow. However, a short time later, someone came in and saw me resting there. He then said,

If I were you, I wouldn't try to sleep here. If caught, you could end up in jail for vagrancy.

After thanking him, I rose and made my way to Mather Campground, a half-hour walk east from the Village. There was no one at reception, so I made my way in and settled down near a group of campers. But shortly after, a Ranger approached and asked me to move to another area of the campground, after receiving a complaint from one of the campers who was near me. So I moved to a less comfortable area on the grounds.

My Final Day at Grand Canyon N.P.

The next morning, after daybreak, I arose and made my way to the exit, where someone was at reception. He was talking to someone else, so I had to wait a moment. I then approached and offered to pay the fee for the overnight stay. He looked rather surprised but took the money anyway. Then I made my way to the nearby shower room. Here, a one-dollar slot machine inside the cubicle paid for five minutes of running water. I was rather surprised at how long the five minutes took to elapse. I had a refreshing shower, washing away all the hiking stress, sweat, and dirt, without the need to hurry. When I looked at the lifesize mirror, I was startled at the sight of my tummy abs showing through! I must have lost weight during the hike. But I also knew that I won't remain that way for long. I also had a ravenous appetite.

At the Village.

At a large cafeteria, I ordered the Big American Breakfast, which was very similar to the traditional English breakfast, consisting of bacon, lashings of scrambled egg, sausages, breadcrumbed potato, and baked beans. It was very satisfying and added the finishing touch to the whole Grand Canyon experience. Then I made my way to the village.

I spent most of the day just relaxing and wandering through the Village, and gazing into the Grand Canyon. Somehow, I had an instinctive foreknowledge that I would never return. I was already in my forties, and I knew that I couldn't just return to this natural wonder without attempting another hike. For one who had to traverse across the Atlantic Ocean and then make my way across much of the USA to reach the Canyon floor twice in my lifetime, I would consider myself very fortunate. Of all my church and secular friends, I know of two or three families who had visited the South Rim but didn't hike down. Another good friend of mine, who is a computer expert, hiked down to the 1.5-mile rest stop, I believe with a colleague, then turned back. On another occasion, a father and son, whom I got to know at a local sauna, drove across the USA to visit the Grand Canyon during the thick of winter, and they too remained on the Rim. These two visited the Canyon as a direct result of listening to my experiences a few months earlier while the three of us were sitting in the sauna.

But nobody had ever shared with me their experiences of hiking all the way down to the Canyon floor, crossing either the Silver Bridge or the Black Bridge, and then spending the night at either Phantom Ranch or the nearby Cottonwood Campground. No one I knew had ever told me about how impressed they were with their close proximity to the flowing waters of the Colorado River cutting through the gneiss and granite bedrock of Inner Gorge geological fascination.

Yet, at present, Google YouTube has opened a new world of Grand Canyon hiking and river rafting experiences. Most of the videos were shot by "locals" - that is - resident Americans who didn't have to travel so far (by global standards) to visit the Canyon. They can testify of the half-dozen completed hikes, including the elusive Rim-to-Rim, along with other treks completed in other National Parks in the USA, including Yellowstone, Zion, and Yosemite National Parks. Sometimes I wish I was young all over again! Such places would have offered hiking adventures that would have thrilled the memory and graced the photo library for life.

I spent the fourth day taking everything easy, as I was still recovering from the hike. Actually, it took several days to recover. After spending some time further admiring the Canyon, I bought a ticket for a bus journey back to Flagstaff. There, I would reconnect with the main route to California.

To Conclude...

That evening, I boarded the coach that would call first at Williams, then travel east to Flagstaff. This was a far better service than the minibus I initially boarded to get here. This time, there was no overcrowding and no request to wait until the vehicle would return to collect me. I turned to look back once more. The mighty Grand Canyon. That would be the last I would ever see of it in person. But my mission was accomplished, and memories, both good and bad, along with all the photos, will remain for life.

Once arrived at Flagstaff, it was already getting dark. I checked for buses for the next day stopping here and heading west. Indeed, there was one heading westbound at four in the morning, but I wasn't interested. However, there was one for Pheonix later in the afternoon. I thought, why not. This would be my first visit to Pheonix.

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Next Week: Flagstaff, Phoenix.