Beware, this is a somewhat long post and I am telling you that you DO NOT have to read past this if you DO NOT want to hear any of my bullshit first world problems.
Up until now, the whole road trip to me has been such a blur. Writing it down seemed underwhelming and the pictures just seemed to only get you so far before you start to smell the cow piss on the long stretches on road in Texas for yourself. Honestly, it’s been pretty difficult to recount a day when you just want to crawl into bed and saw logs.
I’m sure this gets repeated all the time but the Grand Canyon was IT for me. I was that excited little girl eyeing her Happy Meal as she scarfed the last of her chicken nugget down so she could play with her 50 cent vaguely ethnic Barbie toy.
We woke up around 6:30 A.M and Chris was literally bouncing on the bed, ready for this hike.
Mind you, Chris hikes a LOT more than I do.
There were animals EVERYWHERE as we meandered around the roads and up the side of the canyon. The sun was barely peeking its head over the north rim when we got on the bus that would be taking us to our trail.
Fun fact, a unit of measurement that many of the drivers used to describe the length and width of the Grand Canyon was using the term ‘as the raven flies’ which basically meant the straight line that a raven could fly going from one point to another. I felt very Game of Thrones saying that type of shit all day.
Chris did all the research about what trails there were and how many people use them daily. He picked Hermit’s trail, the farthest and least traveled trail because of the ‘ambiance and experience’ of the canyon would be the most legit.
Chris informed me that the hike was 2.5 miles long and should only take about 4 hours to complete. That included stopping for lunch when we got out there and then the hike back. The actual whole trail would take 7 hours one way so we decided that we would just reach as far as we could.
What Chris didn’t tell me was that it was 2.5 miles OUT and 2.5 miles BACK. Maybe he did tell me and I wasn’t listening, but ANYWAYS.
The red line is where we hiked to Santa Maria Spring via the Grand Canyon Adventures website. Not the whole thing, I’m not that CRAZY... yet.
I don’t have a history of being super adventurous. Growing up it was really engrained in me why my mom would say to us when we went to zoos and museums. “if you lean over and reached over too far you will fall and die” and MAN did that apply to my fear of other things that didn’t involve a well-marked path or barrier.
I was shit faced terrified.
The path going down was steep and was not well maintained. (I learned that later in the day.) You basically had a general direction of where you were going and then it was your choice to climb over rocks or other things in your way. Also, you basically were six inches away from falling to your death at any moment.
We reached the Santa Maria Spring just about 11am. That was the turnaround point for us.
It basically is a tiny little rest post where they had benches under a roof so that you could take a break and nourish yourself. (Man, that sounds weird but we’re going to go with it)
In this little post, there was a metal box that had three books filled with hikers who made it to that point. People from all over the world who had come to hike the Grand Canyon.
Wouldn’t you like to know what I wrote?
The sun was at its highest when we decided to start our hike back up. I didn’t want to admit to Chris that I was already exhausted from the trip down. We had descended just under 2000 feet below the rim and going back up elevation was going to be fucking hard.
A handy elevation graph for reference of the trail we were on.
I ran out of breath in the first 10 minutes. If you ever felt so unfit in your entire life, it was exactly how I was feeling, complete with self-deprecation thoughts too. People who had camped overnight with 50 pound backpacks were strolling past me as I made Chris take another break with me underneath a little bush.
Psychologically it was rough. In addition to feeling my heart work harder than it probably ever has in its entire life, I was mentally bringing myself down. The sun was pounding on my back and the camelback I was carrying felt like it had a million bricks in it. In reality, it had two water bottles worth of water in it.
At one point Chris snapped a picture of us resting for probably the third time.
I thought of all the ways that I would want to give up, but at the beginning of the trail a huge sign warned us that “going down is optional, going up is mandatory, don’t become a statistic”. Which meant to me that many of a hiker had attempted to be a badass and then lost their shit halfway.
I AM NOT A SHIT LOSER. I WILL NOT BE A STATISTIC.
Of the many breaks we took, I at LEAST got a good view.
It took us much longer to get back up obviously, with me panting like a chronic smoker the whole time.
Chris was the best and the worst at the same time. The quick elevation climb didn’t seem to outwardly affect him and he was extremely patient with me every time I had to stop and control my breathing. He encouraged me when I was so close to giving up and then gave me space when I was getting those bouts of ‘determined woman power” before almost collapsing into a rock. I also don’t think I’ve ever been more in love with him and hated him in the same time than I had in those three hours it took us to get back up. Every time I asked how much farther we had to go, he never had the heart to tell me that it was going to be 10 zig zags to the top when I asked if there were only going to be 2 more zigs before it was over. (Zig zags- the trails going up were so steep they made a zigzag into the canyon)
It was 3 o’clock when we made it back to the top. I did not feel accomplished or proud of myself at all. I was sweating and panting and had put the last of my energy into the last 100 meters of the hike, giving the ol’ saying ‘go hard or go home’ a run for its money.
I told Chris i needed proof. So I made him snap this pic.
We got back on the bus and almost had to stand instead of sit because it was so crowded with tourists at that point. I was furious for about five minutes. Who WERE these people that just took the bus from spot to spot taking their pictures so leisurely that they deserved to sit more than me? I felt so fucking entitled to sit that for a good thirty seconds I was giving everyone around me the stink eye as we took the last seats near the rear. But obviously that wore away and the sense of, “Holy shit i am so out of shape” emerged as i crumpled next to Chris who was clearly having a natural adrenaline rush from the hike.
We stopped back into the main part of the park to get one last look of the canyon and saw a giant sign giving details about all the trails. I went up to read it while Chris was in the bathroom and when I reached the Hermit’s Trail description I was fuming.
It was a grade of all the trails ranking from easiest to hardest to hike.
The nicer of the signs along the trail that I somehow forgot to read.
Chris came up behind me and I turned my heel to him.
“DID YOU READ THIS?! DID YOU KNOW?”
Chris, as all men reacted when spooked, just had wide eyes waiting for me to continue.
I read the description to him, “ Extremely difficult. Unmaintained steep trail requires caution. Rocky and strenuous. For experienced desert hikers ONLY. DID YOU KNOW THAT?”
Chris: “Yeah, so I read that on the bus and thought I was going to tell you, but then decided not to”
He eyed me, wondering if the joke had gone too far.
Me: Chris! I felt so dumb not being able to hike it while everyone else was passing us up not knowing that they’ve hiked LOADS more than I have!”
Chris: Kim, it doesn’t matter, you did it anyways. The difficulty is irrelevant now.
Goddamnit, he was right. He knew me well enough that knowing how hard it was, I would have psyched myself out of ever doing it in the first place.
Because I did that hike, I got to see a view that very few visitors ever get to see below the rim. Because I did that hike, my first experience was so much more than just a snapshot that a million other people can just see from pictures.
Because I did that hike, I got to see one of the most breathtaking views with my best friend.
Later I found out that only about 2% or less of the total of visitors year round actually visit below the rim, which they consider when you hike an elevation more than 1000 feet. (I did 1,800, not that anyone is counting)
Leaving the Grand Canyon I realized I’d still become a statistic, but in this case, I didn’t mind. :)
https://www.dothecanyon.com/grand-canyon-hiking-trails/hermit-trail/
https://www.nps.gov/grca/planyourvisit/upload/hermittrail.pdf
https://www.quora.com/What-percentage-of-Grand-Canyon-National-Park-visitors-actually-hike-in-the-park-versus-just-driving-to-the-lookout-and-leaving