It was our plumber who suggested off-hand that we think about installing a washer and dryer in the space our old water heater used to occupy—after he had replaced it with a tankless, on-demand model, mounted to an exterior wall. That was back in November 2015. And that was all it took for me to reach out to a designer to help get our dining nook renovations off the ground.
A dozen people were prepping to backpack across the Grand Canyon when Matthew and I arrived at the North Kaibab Trailhead just before 4 in the morning on June 11th. They were up an hour before sunrise to beat the heat—most would call it a day at Cottonwood Campground, 6.3 miles away. Signs warned people not to hike down to the Colorado River and back again in a single day. Precisely what we were attempting to do—twice.
The idea blossomed after we returned from the John Muir Trail last summer, averaging 20 miles/day, 11 days in a row, covering elevation changes as grand as the Grand Canyon and in some cases grander. We had no doubt that we could tackle a 23-mile rim-to-rim dayhike, unburdened by 30-pound packs. But could we turn around and head back, re-crossing the canyon, for a total of 46 miles? This was uncharted territory for the both of us. Before logging 48 miles during the 4MPH Challenge last March (my proving ground for the Grand Canyon), the longest I’d hiked in a day was just shy of 30 miles on the Ohlone Trail. Matthew had run 25 miles at the San Antonio Marathon—before collapsing from dehydration a mile before the finish line!
North Rim to Colorado River
Our target pace was 2.875mph, or 46 miles divided by 16 hours—roughly the daylight we had available. We were dead-on all the way to Cottonwood Campground—disconcerting because we had hoped to move faster on the downhill. It seemed unlikely that we’d be able to maintain the same pace heading up to the South Rim. I discovered midway that my cyborg elbow had started swelling—a bout of bursitis that cropped up a week earlier—in the middle of my final training hike on Mt. Diablo. My intensive use of hiking poles seemed to trigger the condition, so I packed up my left hiking pole—a disappointing setback. On the long, gradual stretch to Bright Angel Campground, we gravity-jogged occasionally and banked half-an-hour—of which we used 20 minutes at Phantom Ranch to refuel and change socks (both my big toes had poked through!). While there, I was able to make a $25 collect call so I could leave Stephanie a voicemail indicating our progress.
Stephanie took this photo of me—well, more the burger I made for her—after we hiked 9 miles on the Dipsea Trail on July 4th. We’d intended to make it all the way to Stinson Beach for “halfway hamburgers” at The Parkside Cafe, but we turned around mid-way and headed back early—so I made them at home instead. But first I studied the advice in The Food Lab to up my burger-game. It worked.