Into the Canyon, Part 1

I decided I would take a few posts to tell this story and the lessons learned. A little of the back story is important, so I’ll start there today.

Last Friday, October 25, I did something that a year ago, I would have said was impossible for me. It started with FB dropping a post into my feed about a 92 year old man who had set the world record for crossing the Grand Canyon, Alfredo. I had no idea you could even cross the Grand Canyon. Why it popped up in my feed will forever remain a mystery.

I became so fascinated by the stories of people hiking 7,000 feet in, across and out of the Grand Canyon. Who does that? They must be insane athletes? And to do it at 92, he must be superman? I had seen the canyon from the top and been overwhelmed by it and I had such a longing to be one of those people who could hike inside of it, but between fear and being in terrible shape, I decided I would have to live vicariously through other people’s stories and their gorgeous photos. But I couldn’t get it out of my mind and I kept bringing it up to Scott.

After our trip to Italy, when we walked such long distances, we were talking about another Grand Canyon story I had read and Scott said, “Why couldn’t that be us? Let’s plan it and train for it.” “Sure,” I said, thinking this would never really come to pass, but it would be fun to dream about.

But we actually started training… and pretty quickly we were doing harder and harder hikes. We planned a short trip to the canyon to do a ‘test’ hike. At first we thought we’d go 1.5 miles in, then we made (for me) an audacious goal, and decided to go for 3 miles in, 2,000 feet down and back up. 

But there was another trail lurking in the back of my mind and I didn’t know Scott had read about it too… it would take us approximately 4+ miles down, over 3,300 feet, 4.6 miles across a platform trail, and then 4.5 miles climbing back out of the canyon, all total, from the lowest points on the platform trail, we would climb about 3700 feet, almost double anything I had ever done before. On our drive to the canyon, we decided to go for it.

Talk about an internal battle… I was very well informed about the risks of the canyon. I had listened to and read story after story about people who got themselves into the canyon and the misery they suffered getting out of the canyon. They don’t fly you out unless you are seriously injured or dying, tired doesn’t get you a helicopter ride.

As usual, on the nights before I jump out of my comfort zone, I don’t sleep. I back out in my head a million times through the night, but still get up and go. A beautiful, wise woman once told me, “Courage doesn’t mean you’re never afraid, it means you keep going in spite of your fear.” I have had a lot of opportunities to build some muscle around courage this year.

We were up at 4 a.m. and on the trail by 5:40, it was pitch black, just the twinkle of head lamps going down the trail. About 30 minutes into the hike, we stepped over to let a man pass who was moving very quickly. Scott was a little ahead of me and the man stopped and asked, “Is her name Sharla?” Wait WHAT?! Turns out he had read a question I had asked in the FB group and was looking for us to encourage us.

I think this is a good place to pause in the story and talk a little about the Grand Canyon Hiking Community. For months I have been active in a group called the Grand Canyon Hiker Dude Show FB group (it’s tied to a wonderful podcast). This community LOVES the canyon and wants others to safely experience it and love it too. I had asked questions and learned so much from others who shared their stories. People are incredibly generous with their knowledge, their ideas, their encouragement and their compassion. I don’t remember ever seeing a snarky comment, just people cheering each other on. Because of this group, I gained the knowledge I needed to really consider hiking in the canyon.

But then there’s the community on the trail… people are talking to each other, encouraging one another, sometimes fist bumping as they pass. If you sit down, most everyone that passes will ask if you're ok and do you need anything? 

At one point, I scrunched in next to a boulder, just to get out of the relentless sun.  Every single person who passed by checked on us and encouraged us, “You’ve got this.”

And on the hike out, the grueling 3300+ foot climb, over and over people would pass and ask, “doing ok?” Or just offer a word of encouragement, “you’re doing great”, “you’ll get there”, “just focus on one step at a time." 

What if communities looked like that all the time? We’re all on a journey through life, and sometimes it gets really hard. We’re fighting with all we have and many times no one is paying attention. I want to be tuned in to people and check on them, just giving them an opportunity to speak up if they need to. It’s so easy to get caught up in the busyness of life and rush by, not really seeing people who might need help or a simple word of encouragement. On the trail inside the canyon, there’s an attitude of watchfulness for fellow hikers. What if we lived with an attitude of watchfulness for each other, in every day life?

I want to be prepared to offer whatever I have that might help them. Offer it… is there anything you need… most people won’t ask without the offer. On the trail, people share their water, their food, their supplements, their ibuprofen, whatever will help… but here’s the thing, you have to have those things to be able to offer them, you have to be prepared. From a faith perspective the same is true… I can’t take my relationship with Jesus for granted. If I’m not regularly filling up from the well of Living Water, I will not have anything left to give. 

Preparation isn’t just important for me, my preparation can also be important for my neighbor. I watched a man on Saturday cheering on a group coming out of the canyon, after he had finished his climb out. When they got to the top, they thanked him for giving them water. Water can be the difference between life and death in the canyon, but it can be in our spiritual life too. He could share his water because he made sure he had filled up. I know from a podcast he hikes the canyon regularly and also has an extra supply of a few things that will help him, but mostly help others. People in the canyon don’t just take responsibility for themselves, they share responsibility for those around them. They don’t begrudge helping others, even if the others didn’t prepare well themselves. It’s all about helping each other get to the destination.

There’s still more to come, it was the most physically challenging thing I’ve ever done. When you’re pushed past the boundaries of what you believe you are capable of, you often discover something new about yourself. I did and I like what, hmmm WHO, I found.

Below are some of my favorite photos of the sunset the night before and the early part of the hike, into the canyon.