Down is optional, Up is mandatory

Its cold in California. The high is mid-60's. Not bad. But coming from around 100 degrees dry, I'm cold.
On Friday we hiked out from the Kaibab trailhead. There is a trail that runs along the southern rim, with a free shuttle that runs along and stops at each lookout point. Several of the points are trailheads into the canyon.
We decided to sleep in late and skip the 5 AM bus to the trail head, figuring a little bit more sleep was more important that missing a little added head to the hike.
It seemed like a great plan as we stepped onto the trail, in complete awe yet again of the vastness. You cannot even see the bottom of the canyon from the top.
So we meandered along, taking tons of photos along the way. Pitying those that were climbing up. And continuing to regard this as one of the greatest things we had ever seen in our lives.
As the dirt color changed from brown to red to white and back to red then white and brown, so did the breathtaking views you could only manage to see if you made the effort down. These were things I never thought I would see in real life as I drooled over national geographic magazines in the 4th grade.
And I saw them.
I lived them.
And nearly died them.
Since we didn't get on the trail until about 8, that left only 2 hours without the heat of the day which is from 10-4.
In most cities, heat of the day is an extra 5-10 degrees. Here, while hiking down (the temperatures is grossly hotter in the canyon than on the rim), this is an added 20 degrees.
And we started at 100.
If you do the math right, that's 125 degrees. 110 in the shade. Hiking 6,000 feet down and 13 miles with a 35 pound pack on your back.
Kaibab also happens to have no natural shade. And no water spickets until you reach the Colorado river. So you must carry all your water, adding at least another 5 pounds, and hope for the best.
I was severely dehydrated the last quarter of the hike.
For the last 2 or 3 hours I stumbled doing my best to avoid passing out and throwing up at the same time. Several times we crawled into a crack in the rocks for shade for our heads.
Now the 5 am bus was a much better idea.
7 and a half hours from the start later, we finally made it down to Bright Angel Campground and set up camp as quickly as possible before it was too dark and so we could eat dehydrated food and a lunchable.
It was then that we started to realize how much muscle it takes to climb down. You're holding back your own weight for 7.5 hours while going a pretty steep ways down.
It takes some sinew.
A lot, actually.
I walked as if my legs were stilts - with no painful bend at the knee. We headed to Phantom Ranch, which was just across a creek that fed into the Colorado and semi-glared at the guests in their cabins that probably rode a mule down with all their gear. I was in desperate need of lip balm for my fried lips (definitely didn't think about that when I packed) and we also heard you could buy things at Phantom Ranch that were only available there.
And so we sat in the A/C, smooth lips, with our new Phantom Ranch bandanas, and lemonade.
Yep, lemonade.
The water pipes had burst, leaving the grounds with no access to water outside of the creek. So phantom ranch was not allowing any more reservations for their stew or steak dinner as they would have to use precious back-up water to clean the dishes. Yet, we were still able to snag 2 amazingly fulfilling glasses of lemonade.
Afterwards we proceeded to stumble over to our camp site and collapse on top of our sleeping bags. It was far to hot to be in them or even in the tent. When the wind would blow, the air passing through would be hot.
It felt horrible.
But we were too exhausted to avoid passing out, anyway.
We woke in our own sweat (much similar to my bonnaroo experience last year, shout out to all the roo'ers rockin' out right now) and realized just how much our legs could really ache when we climbed out of the tent and stumbled to the picnic table to make breakfast.
Dehydrated scrambled eggs and bacon.
It wasn't too bad with the tortillas we bought.
Apparently a squirrel liked it, too. We had kept a trash bag tied up in the tent. I guess he smelled it and had the gonads to chew through our tent, and pull out all the trash all around our area. Yep. When they say keep your food and all smell good items in the ammo boxes, they really mean it.
We spent the rest of the day laying in the creek or laying on the picnic table in the sun. I took 2 glorious naps before and after a lunch of dehydrated teriyaki chicken and rice. I even got to spray some dry shampoo in my hair before a brush and wipe my face with some awesome face wipes.
It was practically a spa day.
Dinner was early. A fancy feast of dehydrated spaghetti (my favorite of all the meals) and then dehydrated apple cobbler (okay the spaghetti was my second favorite), before attempting sleep before 8:30. We were getting up at 3:45 to avoid another heat of the day mistake.
Sleep was much harder to come by this time since we weren't quite as exhausted. I think I finally fell asleep around 11.
The alarm was rough. We got up and realized that most everyone else was already up and nearly done packing.
Since when was 3:45 am late?
We packed quickly and did the best we could to adjust our legs to moving again before heading off around 4:30 up the Bright Angel trail.
We made really great time up to Indian Gardens, a small oasis just 4.8 miles from the top. We were over halfway through and it was just after 8 am. We took a break, had some cheez-its and our last tortillas before heading on to the trail. There were much less shaded areas by this point so we tried to move quickly, but I was slowing us down.
I was exhausted, not to mention pretty satisfied with the better that anticipated time we had made to Indian Gardens, so I wasn't moving at top speed. Plus, the view was incredible coming up, so I frequently stopped to turn around and take pictures.
On the way, we passed a brigade of people of mules.
And I glared at every single one that passed.
I hope they slept horribly that night and felt bad about themselves.
Okay, I was cranky. I admit it. My apologies.
It took a bit to make it to the first water stop (fortunately the pipes weren't busted here), 3 miles from the top. We were tired, hot, and had already had a bit of a spat over our pace by this point.
I think a grand canyon hike should be some type of marriage counseling. If you can't make it through this, your teamwork and problem solving and patience aren't enough for eternity together. I'm not looking for a husband anytime soon, but really, the stakes and tensions were tough at this point. Well, that's enough on my views on marriage.
Our pace continued to slow as I did my best - forcing myself to move in increments of 15 minutes without stopping. The boy had given up on being frustrated, deciding it wasn't in his best interest (duh) and was just thrilled when we made it to the last water stop (1.5 miles from the top).
From there I had a GU packet (these energy packets that a lot of people eat in increments of half and full marathons). I had already shared another with the boy and really needed another boost to make it up supposedly the toughest part. We had no more food so I took it on an empty stomach and a bit of water.
Mistake.
Halfway up I was unbelievably sick. This is where I should point out that when people eat these during races, they train with eating them so they don't get sick on race day. I never do because I'm a slacker. I also don't get sick until after the race anyway.
Whatevs.
I was apparently visibly sick since several people asked if I was okay along the way. I was to the point where 15 minute incremements were too long and I was just pushing myself to make it through the next switch back, wait in the shade for a minute and a half and continue on, praying that I didn't puke.
This is a major difference between the adventure boy and I. When I feel nauseated I pray to every higher power I can think of that I do not expel my inside. He is quick to find a bush and have immediate relief. However, the pain and the burn are not worth the relief to me.
So I stayed sick.
And prayed.
And stopped every 50 yards.
We were starving by this point and had mentioned all the foods we were going to have when we made it back to civilization, including but not limited to:
A root beer float (and maybe even a cream soda and sasparilla one, too)
Taco Bell
Cheetos Cheese puffs
Del Taco
Krispy Kreme
A hamburger
Burritos
Banana Split
As we crawled over the edge, they were all I could think of. I probably burned over 10,000 calories this weekend, but all I wanted was to get them back.
And we started at the Bright Angel Lodge with a bacon cheeseburger and a root beer float while we celebrated our victory over every social media site we had: Instagram, Twitter, FourSquare, and, of course, Facebook.
I called my parents who were just happy I was alive.
And then we collapsed in the car. With the A/C. And sat.
For an hour.
Then climbed aboard a shuttle to our favorite look-out point, Hopi, to watch the sunset.
And we were the most disgusting and smelly people there.
I nearly pitied the passengers, but not really. They didn't understand.
After witnessing one of the coolest sunsets of my life, we headed back to the car for a beautiful full moon-lit drive to Sedona 2 hours away.
And seeing how this post is already pretty long. And the boy is a little tired of sitting around waiting on me to finish. I will save that post for a little later.
Much love.