(Grand Canyon)
Day 1: I woke up at 4 a.m. to go and catch my flight out of Syracuse. It was not hard to wake up, because I had hardly slept. I legit think I peed five times that night for some reason, and I just could not get comfortable. The flight departed Syracuse at 6:15, made a stop in Detroit, and then I was in Phoenix before 10 a.m. local time. It was over a two-hour drive to get to Flagstaff. Leaving Phoenix, the sights were amazing. There are all these massive hills/mountains, and they all have some kind of trail on them, and it just looked like a runner’s paradise, but Phoenix was 101 degrees, and that would have caused instant death to run up, so instead I waited for Flagstaff to run, which was a crisp 60 degrees.
The first thing I did, when I got to Flagstaff was stop at Target, because I had a gift card, so I could stock up on food, and then I drove the rest of the forty minutes to Bonita Campground in the Coconino National Forest, which was my home for the next four days. I went to my reserved camping spot, and then I went up to the head honcho, and I paid for it. Then I asked him if there was a trail to get up there, as I pointed to the biggest mountain nearby, and he said yes! I just had to cross the ravine at the bottom of the campground, and then I would come up on a dirt path, and it would take me all the way to the top, and that it was five miles to reach the summit, which I think he said more as a warning, but I took it as an even greater invitation.
(Bottom of trail to Oleary)
The path was as easy to find as he described, and the dirt was so lush. I do not know if it was from the rain that had been pouring on my drive there, or if it was because some guy on some dirt machine had plowed it to make it that way, but it was perfect how soft it was, as long as I stayed in the right spot, some places were too soft, and it was like running on the beach. The first small uphill I did, I felt the elevation, and I also realized that I had not switched to my trail shoes, but those worries were not going to stop me. I continued on my way, and it all went by so fast. There were some tough climbs, but for the most part it was manageable. I started at 6,000 feet for my altitude, and the summit was over 8,000 feet. So in my 5.5 mile climb, I gained about 2,200 feet, and I did get two summits. One was a quick spur off the main trail, and it was the hardest part of the hike. It was super steep, and the footing was basically black sand, so every step would cause me to sink down, so it took a ton of energy to go 200m, but it gave me a good view of the peak I wanted to summit. So I went back down the black sand of death and got a mound full of dirt in my shoes, and I quickly sped my way to the next summit, which was Oleary. The best part was that it had a fire tower! Fire towers are one of my favorite sights to see hiking, I do not know what it is about them, but if there is a hike to one, I am all in for it. The top had a good view of the Sunset Crater Volcano as well, and it gave great perspective on how high I had climbed.
(Top of Summit next to Oleary)
After a quick snack and a post to my Instagram story while I had service, I sped back down the mountain. It was a nice grade, and like I said, the soil was lush, so it was not too hard on the legs and back, and I did four of the five miles down in sub six-minute miles easily! Once at the bottom, I cruised around for a couple more miles to get to a half marathon, and then called it a day. I was exhausted, but I still had to set up camp and make dinner. I put up my small tent, and then I made a bountiful feast. I mixed black beans, corn, and pineapple, put hummus on a tortilla, and then put my mixture on top. It probably does not sound great, but it was, and I scarfed down two of them, and some potato chips. I also splurged and bought pop tarts for dessert, and that was the first long and very tiring day.
(View of the Volcano from atop Oleary)
Day 2: I got up around 5 after a decent night’s sleep for camping. I packed light, so the only thing I had as a cover was a thin quilt, which mostly did the job, but it got a little chilly in the middle of the night, so by morning, I wish I had more, but there was no room in my bag for anything warmer. I realize now that I could have trimmed the running clothes down some and packed a warm hoodie instead. After that I ate a PB&J taco and hit the road, and when I was leaving the park, I was staying in, I saw one of the most vibrant and vivid rainbows I have ever seen, and it was framing the mountains perfectly. A great way to start the day.
(Campground Rainbow)
Leaving the campground, I thought I was just going to go across the street, because there were some more mountains over there, but once I got service on my phone again, once across the street, I looked around on google maps and found a different trail, this one was for Humphrey’s Peak. It was five miles to the top, and it was over 3,000 feet of elevation gain. What I did not realize at the time was that this run started at 9,000 feet and ended at a little over 12,000 feet. A massive increase from what I had done the previous day, only reaching 8,000 at the top of Oleary. I was originally planning on saving the 12,000-foot peak for the next day, but I was in the parking lot, and it was too late to turn back now.
The climb starts at a ski area, but the trail is anything but a slope. It was super rooty and rocky. Nothing like the lush soft dirt of yesterday. This was super technical, and it took lots of focus while running. The climb did not start off too badly though, and besides the chunky footing, I was meandering up the mountain nicely. There were not too many people at the start, but eventually I started to come across people steadily, and most of them were friendly. One guy asked me how many times I had run up this mountain before to which I replied that this was my first. Then another guy said he felt like he saw me running up the mountain the last time he was there, but I told him it was my first time, so I guess I looked like I knew what I was doing, and I felt good.
Then I missed a turn, and I ended up having to do some rock scrambling to get back to the trail, and then somehow, I lost it again and had to scramble some more. This was super taxing on my body and morale. I had been feeling so good, and now I had screwed up twice in the span of minutes. This was around mile 3.5, so up until that point I had been running smoothly and felt surprisingly good despite the big increase in altitude, but I was in for it.
(Rock Scrambles)
Once I was back on the trail, it was a short climb to a massive lookout, a ridgeline between peaks. At this point I was over 11,000 feet, and I was unsure of which direction I was going on the ridgeline, so there was a lady, who I had just passed, who was coming to the same point as me, so I asked her, and she directed me to the left, and it did not matter which way she pointed, the options were pretty intimidating. Also at this point, my head had really started to feel the pressure of the altitude, and I decided I would never be able to climb Mount Everest, but I only had about a mile to go, so I could do this one.
(Ridgeline above the treeline)
I tried to run some, but every time I did, it quickly turned into more scrambling and massive boulders to get over or navigate around. I was in no hurry, and I wanted to survive, so I slowed it down. It did not help that this part of the trail was not marked the best, and it was visible that other people were confused as well, and they had gone every which way, despite the multiple signs saying stay on the trail, but the actual trail signs were sparse. Eventually after traveling the ridgeline line for what felt like forever, I made it to the top, which was quite the relief. My head did not feel great, but it was not incapacitating in any manner, and when I stopped at the top it felt better.
(Highest point in Arizona)
There were a couple of other people up at the top with me, and it was frigid! When I started, it was 58 in the parking lot, but on top of the mountain in the wind with nothing to break it, it felt like it had to have been in the 40s. It was also cool to see the clouds roll in, and they would rush over the ridgeline like a wave crashing into the shore. Beautiful. I ate my granola bar, took some pictures, and headed back down.
I did not feel great going back down, my head started to hurt once I was moving again, and another day of going down five miles was not appreciated by the joints, especially since these five miles took way longer than the 30 minutes it took yesterday to fly down on the dirt. When I had less than a mile left, it started to rain, lightly, and right when I made it to my car, there was a massive boom of thunder, that was followed by more booms in short order, so I had made it down safely and just in time. I sat in my car for a while contemplating life, and I decided to head to Sedona.
It was an hour and a half drive to get to the trail head for the Devil’s Bridge. A place I have seen pictures of for years on Instagram, and a place I had wanted to go since seeing said pictures. There are two main reasons why, and they correlate. First, I love red rocks. There are few things more spectacular than massive formations of red rocks. They seem so other worldly and growing up on the east coast, they are a delicacy. Next, I love arches. Specifically arches that are made of red rocks. My favorite National Park I have ever been to is Arches in Utah, and as you can guess, it is a park filled with arches made from red rocks. Amazing! So I had to take the drive to see an arch and other massive formations of red rocks. Even the drive to the Devil’s Bridge was stunning. To get out of Flagstaff and to get into Sedona, the drive goes through this massive canyon, that looks very similar to Zion National Park but with more greenery. If it was not a tight two-lane road, I would have stopped and taken a million pictures.
(View of the road into the canyon)
Once there I fit my small car into a small tight spot and threw my water pack on. Just a few hours ago, I was at 12,000 feet and freezing. Now I was at 5,000 feet, and it was almost a hundred degrees. Incredible diversity in a short amount of time. Sadly, my altitude headache had not disappeared, but I did make sure that I was plenty hydrated to trek four miles and 500 feet through the desert. This time I brought my real camera with me, so I could get the best quality pictures of my favorite thing. The desert running was gorgeous… and hot. The views were all around, and there were massive rock formations in all directions. It took some serious self-control to not stop every tenth of a mile to take a different picture of the same view from a slightly different vantage point. I was still running, so I was trying to keep it moving. The small amount of climbing there made my head hurt more, but I got to the spot quickly, and it felt good to rest.
(Trail to Devil's Bridge)
When I got to the spot, the view caught me by surprise. From the pictures I knew that the trail brings people level with the arch, but I did not know when exactly this would happen, but then I saw a group of people sitting to my right, and so I looked to my left, and there it was! A beautiful rock bridge just fifteen feet from the edge I was running upon. The one cool aspect of this arch is that people are allowed on top of it, and despite seeing many arches, I have never been on top of one before, so I made sure to take advantage of this opportunity, and I got the picture to prove it. What was more fun was watching other people take their pictures up on the arch. Most people were fearless and went out there without a problem, but there was this older gentleman and his son that were going out there, when I first got there, and the older guy was afraid. He literally slid out to the middle, and I do not mean on his butt, he had his whole back on the ground, and any time the guy who was with him moved in a way that was even a little not to his liking, he would start to yell at him, “What the hell are you doing!?” Fitting, because it was Devil’s Bridge.
(People scooting to the middle of Devil's Bridge)
I survived the scorching run back to the car, and on the way back home, I stopped at a scenic lookout, so I could take a picture of the canyon that I had driven through. I stopped at target again to get more tortillas, and then I headed back to my home, and as I sit here and write this, my day ended how it started, with a beautiful rainbow reaching up to the heavens.
(Early morning stars before the Grand Canyon)
Day 3: According to my watch, I woke up at 3:50, and after rolling around for a little while, I got up, and I used my camera to try to take some pictures of the stars. How they turned out, at this point I am not sure, but I will find out soon! That lasted longer than it should have, and I slowly got moving. I was planning on going to the Grand Canyon, and I really wanted to get moving to miss out on as much heat as possible. So I got changed, and a little before six, I was on my way about ninety minutes to the trail head. On the way, about an hour till I got there, I pulled over at a gas station, and I made my PB&J tacos as the sun peaked above the horizon and then kept along my way. It was a fairly simple drive that consisted of about three turns, which was nice. While driving, I lost signal, and the only radio station that was working was a native one, where they were singing some song, and it felt very spiritual to be listening to it as I drove through their land.
(You Are on Native Land
Once I got there, it was a little after seven, and I parked my car, got my pack set up with water and snacks, and headed on my way. Initially it was only 60 degrees, but the second I was on the Bright Angle trail, every time I was in the sun it felt 20 degrees hotter, and this was still up at the top at 6,000 plus feet of elevation. This had me a little worried for what the bottom would be like. One plus that I quickly found out was that there was water and bathroom stops along the way. I had no idea that they had bathrooms along the trail! Also I was planning on not drinking any water until I got to the bottom, so I would have it all for the climb back up, but thankfully this changed with the presence of multiple water stops. I was still conservative on the way down though, because I did not know how many stops there would be.
(Horses climbing up the path)
On the way down there were three types of stops. One was my favorite, and this was to let horses pass, and this happened three times, I had to scoot myself close to the wall, and stand there while a caravan of donkeys proceeded past me. There were no people on them, except for the leaders. This left dozens of people stranded down at the bottom and forced to crawl their way back up unexpectedly, but the horses were unionized workers, and they had hit their hours quota and needed to be back at the top (not really). The other type of stop was for water, where I would drink some of my small bottles and fill them back up, then keep moving. These went by fairly quickly on the way down, and lastly, there were picture breaks.
(Switch Backs for miles with log stairs)
I have been lucky enough to have gone to the Grand Canyon multiple times, but never like this. It was a whole new experience as I descended between the walls of the canyon. There were endless switchbacks, and I could look down the cliff and see the path extending for miles. It was like running through a splendid red rock garden. I was in love. The further I went the more it developed into a new ecosystem. Towards the bottom, there were smaller canyons with rushing water, and the trail was lined with cacti. Also the color of the rock changed as I descended. It was not always red, sometimes it turned a more yellowish gray, but it was always there as a guide rail following me down. After mile five on the way down, the last water stop, the crowd thinned way down, and I only saw a couple other souls, most of which were ascending. It winded down some more, and there were even some creek crossings, and then I finally made it to the Colorado River!
(Colorado River Beach)
It was not the grandest view from the river, but it was exhilarating to have made it all the way to the bottom, and there was even a little beach, which was totally exposed to the sun, so I took my shoes and socks off, and I hopped in the river. It was frigid, but so refreshing considering the oppressive heat. Someone on the way up told me that they heard the water was 40 degrees, I would not go that far, but it was so nice to get in it. It was also my first-time bathing since Monday, and I was ready to wash all the grime off, even though I was about to immediately put it back on going up the canyon.
(So refreshing, wish I could have stayed longer, but it was getting hot!)
After I went back on shore to dry my feet off and have a snack before heading back up the canyon. One problem was that there was no water at the bottom where I was, so I had to be conservative, because the previous stop was three hot miles away. So once I had my gear all packed and my shoes back on again, I went back down to the water and put my shirt in again. Long sleeves today, so that the water would last longer on my clothes, and so I could have some sun protection. Then I started back up. Only 4,000 feet of elevation to gain in eight miles, how bad could it be?
It was tough! The three miles back to the water station were brutal. A large portion of the climb is just in total sunlight, and I was baking, but there was only one choice, to put my head down and keep chugging. Looking up to see how far I had to go was futile, because the answer was far and up. Thankfully I knew where the next water station was, so I kept taking sips periodically to help with the heat. On the way, I saw one guy that I had a short conversation with on the way down, and he said that I was looking good, and that was close to the water station, so that was uplifting, but by the time I got to the water, I was feeling run down and my stomach had some small cramping. So I sat down ate a small snack, and I drank water. Eventually I moseyed over to the group by the water and engaged in a conversation with them. People I had seen along the way, or in one case, a couple that looked down the canyon and saw me running. I filled up my water, doused myself and feeling a lot better carried on my way, but not before noticing the big thermometer that said that it was over 90 degrees, and that I still had five more miles to go with close 3,000 feet of elevation to go.
(Sun exposed climb)
The next water station was two miles away, and at this point, the run only centered around when the next water station was. So I chugged along, and thankfully there was some solid cloud cover that had rolled in, and this helped carry me to the next stop with minimal discomfort. I passed some more people along the way that I had seen earlier, and we shared some more nice words, and this was helpful. The small stomach cramp did return pretty quickly, and the terrain up was not the most forgiving, but small step by small step I got closer and closer to the top.
(3 miles into the climb, already feeling the heat and the climb)
Right by the next water stop, I passed a family going up that I had stopped with at a construction site, and we had a small conversation, which was nice. I refilled my water, and doused my body in water again, so I could still feel cool, because despite going up in elevation, it was hours later now, and it was no longer just the bottom of the canyon that was hot. This next climb was only about a mile and half to the next water station, and it was where I really started to feel it. The cramps persisted for most of the run, and my cloud cover had mostly disappeared, and despite being over halfway to the top, I still had half of the elevation to go up. The one aspect of the trail that killed me the most was the small log trunks that had been placed throughout to help prevent erosion. Thus creating these stairs to go up. This takes much more energy. When I am just taking my small steps, I move easily and without too much effort, but this is a whole different thing, and it is relentless for all eight miles.
With about two and a quarter mile to go, I had to stop and walk for the first time. I did it just for about 200 meters, and then I kept going, but it was tough. The stomach cramp refused to go away, and the stairs just kept going. There were also a couple of points, where I stopped completely and sat down to try and return to some semblance of a baseline, then kept moving. There were some good interactions in this brief stint before the next water stop. I was jogging at this point, and there was a couple with a baby on the mom’s back in a pack, and the baby said, “Mom, I want a nap nap,” and as I slowly passed by, I said I want a nap nap too, and they laughed and said they had no idea how I was running, to which I replied me neither.
(Closer to the top, good perspective on how far I have climbed)
Finally, I made it to the last water stop with 1.5 miles to go, and I was so done. When I was sitting there trying to regroup, there was a guy in a Peachtree Road Race shirt, and being a former local, I asked him where in Georgia he lived. We talked for a few minutes, and he wished me luck on completing my journey. I needed it. I sprayed myself down with the water faucet, but I did not need to refill my water, because it was a short gap from the last water stop, and I was so close to the top, so I started trudging. There was still 1,000 feet of elevation to gain in the last mile and a half, that turned out to be 1.63, and I was beat. I did my best to keep jogging, and looking back on it, I probably did a better job than I thought, but it felt like I was dying and not moving. At one point, I passed this group of three people, and when the guy looked at me, he said, “Man it looks like you have been out here for days!” Which, as you know normally, I have a smile on my face and do not look too stressed, but there had been a material change. I still had a pleasant conversation with them briefly, and I explained that I went all the way down to the river, and told them how long I had been running, and they were impressed, so despite not looking great, it was still nice to talk to some people. Apparently, I left an impression, because as I rounded the switch back a minute later they were still talking and wondering how many calories I had burned. They guessed 40,000, but somehow the whole thing was only 1,200 calories according to my watch. It felt like I burnt all the calories.
The last mile was Hell, I walked off and on, and every time I looked up, it felt like I was getting further away, and every time I checked my elevation on my watch, I could not believe I was going to get to 4,000 feet of gain, I was so close, but still had hundreds of feet!? My back started to hurt badly. Both upper and lower were tight, like they were playing tug of war with one another. My right knee started to hurt when I would step up with it, and the tendon on the back of my knee on the outside right also got really tight, which I eventually found out was a knot in my upper calf causing the issue. I started to worry about cramping, and I was getting a little nauseous. I gagged a couple times, but I never lost anything. They were more fake gags than anything. Just my body giving me a loving warning that I was going to die soon if I did not make it up. Towards the very end, I could see the top, but I stopped. I was so close, but so exhausted. I sat there a couple of minutes, and then I finished “strong” I hobble jogged to the top and received a round of applause… No wait, that is not right. No one even batted an eye at me. So feeling very accomplished and like I was hanging on by a thread, I walked to the Bright Angle sign, and I laid on the rock right next to it for a very long time feeling like absolute garbage. I put my hat over my head, and I listened as people walked past. No one said anything to me or asking if I was okay. I was hoping someone would crest the canyon wall that I had talked to earlier, so I could commiserate with them, but no such luck, but having no one to talk to about the accomplishment, did not take away what I had just done.
(I laid on the rock to the right for a while)
It was a third of a mile back to my car, and once I started walking, I felt better(ish). In the car, I had a Gatorade waiting, and the nutrition I needed more than anything else was electrolytes and salt. So I sat in the trunk and drank my Gatorade, and after that I moved to the driver’s seat and started to eat a copious amount of chips, and a tortilla with nothing in it, because my stomach needed basic food. After a long rest, I put the car in drive, and I drove to a lookout. I wanted to have lunch there and take some pictures while I recovered.
I found a nice pullout right as it stopped raining, and I got out, and I made one of my tacos with hummus, beans, and other stuff, and while I was eating it, a flock of crows showed up and started heckling me for my food. These were good sized birds, so I ate my taco quickly while yelling at the birds periodically to stop looking at me, and then I hopped back in the car to go to a different lookout that would not have these blood thirsty fiends eyeing me. For all I know they saw how tired I was, and potentially they did not even want my taco, they might have wanted to eat me.
(I ate 16 tacos over the course of the trip)
The next lookout was much better, and I was able to enjoy my second taco there to its fullest ability, and it had a much better seat, and after I finished my taco, I sat there and sat there and sat there unmoving staring at the canyon, staring at my phone, talking to others, but mainly staring at the canyon. It felt like it was calling me in, not to jump, but just to stay there and stare at it forever. So many fine crafted and minute details water crafted by the Colorado, that I had made it down to and come back up. It was hard to comprehend, and I was in no shape to actually do so. After a lifetime of staring into the abyss and watching a storm roll in, I got back into the car, and when I looked in the rearview mirror and made eye contact with myself, I saw some sunken in and dark eyes. Very tired eyes. Eyes red and partially bloodshot. Eyes that did not want to drive over an hour back to campground. Eyes that wanted to go back to sitting on the edge of the canyon and to never move again, but I did. I left and drove to another lookout.
(View from my lunch spot, as the storm rolled in)
I was not planning on stopping again, but it was the lookout with the tower, and I really wanted to see the tower, the Desert View Watchtower. So I went and explored and took many a picture of the lookout from different angles. I took some pictures of the trees for my dad, and then limped back to the car, now thankfully in my Hoka slide instead of my trail shoes. On the way home, I stopped and got another Gatorade and more chips, so I would be prepared for one more day of running, but so far in the three days and four runs that I have done, I have set a weekly elevation gain record and run 40 miles. Again, an elevation gain weekly record in three days. This is a business trip not a pleasure trip, and my body feels it. To finish off the day, I ate my cookies and cream pop tart that I had been craving for hours. Thank you to all my random trail friends along the way and shout out to the group of horses I beat to the top. The horses were on their way up, when I was still coming down, so they had a multiple mile head start on me, but I still took them down. The ranger lady on the lead horse said that she was glad to see me again. What a day. Now I rest.
Day 4: In the middle of the night, there was a large storm that rolled in, of course it waited for the final night after a long day, and I had checked the weather, and it said nothing of the sort would occur. To rub salt in the wound, there was a small part of my tent not covered by the rain fly, and the foot of my sleeping pad and blanket got soaked. So when I needed my blanket, I could not use all of it. Not a ton of sleep, but it was the last night in the tent, so we move forward, but this was a problem, when it was time to pack up and leave. I did not want to pack a bunch of wet gear into my suitcase, because then it gets moldy and weighs more, so I just shoved it all in my trunk and made it a future me problem.
(There was a nice sunrise after the strom though)
So I heard about this park from a local running store that I found online called Buffalo Park, and it is at the foot of a mountain, so it had many options of places to run. It had been a tough three days, so I was good with options. I arrived, and it was a beautiful place. There was a nice gravel path that led directly to the mountains, and the plethora of options, so I headed toward the hills. The gravel path on its own had multiple off shoots on the way to the Arizona trail. It took about half a mile to get to the Arizona trail, and I lasted about 200 meters on it before giving up. The rain from the night before had oversaturated the dirt in the worst possible way. Every step, the dirt would envelop the shoe, and then it would stick, so it was like running in wet cement, and it stuck to my shoes, and it added so much weight. It looked like that would go on for a while, so I decided to just run through the nice gravel part of the park.
(Buffalo Park)
The park was at 7,000 feet, so it was still a solid altitude, and even just on the flat running I was comfortably over eight-minute pace. So I went back to the car, and I dropped my water pack off, and then I did a two-mile tempo, which is the equivalent of one loop. I do not know what the first mile time was, because I started at 2.25, and I did not lap my watch, but the second mile was 6:13. The effort was tough though. I was pushing hard. I got back to the car, took a swig of water and did another two-mile loop. This time I ran a 5:50 and 6:02. I finished on an uphill, and I was trying so hard to get back to back sub sixes that I felt awful after it, and I did not get it, so that stunk, but I did get one sub six at altitude after some serious days previously, so I will take that as a victory.
To be honest, I was in a pretty sour mood after the trail did not go the way I wanted it to go. So the tempo originally started out as the idea that I was going to run hard for miles, but I found out pretty quickly, that this was not going to last. It was tiring to run fast. So I decided to get to two miles, and by the time I finished that, I was feeling mentally much better, and I was ready to attack the next two mile repeat. I was very surprised when I ran faster than the first time by quite a bit, but after the first mile of the second rep, I was feeling it, but I kept pushing, and all of that helped to make me feel a lot better, but despite that, I cannot help but feel like I was at the gate before some great kingdom, but I was forced to wait beyond it staring at all the glory that it had on the other side but unable to truly enjoy it.
(Path to the Arizona trail)
So I went and drowned my sorrows in chick-fil-a the first time that I had eaten out on the trip, and it was still breakfast, which is my favorite! I had a $10 gift card, and I enjoyed two orders of hashbrowns and a chicken biscuit. All of it was tasty, but man did I feel bad after. I do not know if it was the sugar from the lemonade or eating fried food and meat, but I felt gross. Also I feel like the chick-fil-a in Georgia is better, but that could just be odd Southern bias.
The breakfast was really just a way to waste some time. My run took shorter than planned, and I wanted to go to Run Flagstaff, the local running store, whose website had helped me to find the park I ran at this morning, and it did not open until 10. I was originally planning on buying a green and yellow hat that was John Deere colors, a color combination that I loved oh so much as a kid, but when I got there, they did not have it, so instead I got an awesome shirt with a coyote with lightning bolts through its face. A solid alternative.
After that I walked to another outdoors store, and I was looking at some shirts in the back of the store, and these two ladies looked at me for a second, and then they said, “Weren’t you the guy running up the Grand Canyon yesterday?” Honestly, nothing could have excited me more, and so I said yes that was me! They told me that they were the ones with the baby in the backpack, I am guessing the one that wanted to take a nap nap. Being tall and having a mustache pays off, and it made me pretty easily recognizable, and it also probably helped that I said something to most of the people that I passed. So cool!
I finished off the day and the trip by driving an hour to Montezuma Castle, which is a national landmark. A house-like structure built into the side of a canyon wall. A truly incredible feat, but it cost $10, and it was over very quickly. Also this was way down in altitude, so it was starting to be baking outside. So after my brief $10 walk, I pulled my tent gear out of the back, and let it dry as I ate a quick snack and tried to get most of my other stuff packed. Then I laid claim to the sidewalk as I rolled up all my gear and placed it into its proper bags. It was quite the ordeal in the sun, but I got it done, and I needed to waste time anyway, because I could not check in until three. After that I finished by finding my Holy Grail.
On a trip my dad and I took to the Grand Canyon years and years ago, we were leaving, and there was a native man who was selling sopapilla, which is basically fried bread. Then it is topped with sugar and honey and delicious. So when I was driving into Montezuma castle, there was a stand that had a fry bread sign out front, so when I was leaving, I had to stop, and it was so worth it. I had it topped with cinnamon sugar, and it lived up to the experience so many years ago. I could have stayed there all day and eaten fry bread.
(If you are ever out west, look for a fry bread stand)
I got to the hotel, and I took my first shower since Monday, and it was glorious. I know I got in the river yesterday, but the shower is something different. It was also nice to be able to stretch, roll, and use my massage gun without a bunch of campers looking at me oddly. Camping was fun and financially light, but hotel rooms are oh so nice. I am looking forward to a full night’s sleep.
Concluding Thoughts: While I was gone, I spent three nights camping, and the last night in a hotel. The campsite was outside of Flagstaff in the mountains, and I did not have cell service while there. So each afternoon, when I was done running, I would return to my tent and basically leave my phone alone. In normal daily life, I listen to podcasts almost constantly when I am not working, or I have a movie on the TV, but now I was left with the silence of the wilderness, and whatever small noise the other campers made around me, and honestly it was so peaceful. Each night I would write this paper, and then I would go into my tent and read before bed. Sleeping in the tent was not the most ideal or comfortable, but it was so nice to be so unplugged for so much time. Even when I ran, I chose not to listen to anything, I just purely enjoyed the nature. It truly is reinvigorating, and I cannot suggest it enough!
(Grand Canyon by the tower)
I leave you with an analogy. Running at altitude is like drinking alcohol. At first you start out a little lightheaded, but it is a new feeling. A different feeling. It brings you out of the mundane feeling of life, but then you keep going, and it no longer feels new and fun, it starts to hurt your head, and there is no quick way down. You must live with your decision well after you are done until your body returns to baseline. (I came up with this after having a terrible altitude headache on day two after climbing Humphrey’s peak.)
Leaving for another trip soon!
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