Event: Rim to Rim to Rim
Date: May, 2024
Location: Grand Canyon, Arizona

As our runners slowly tackled more feats of Ultra, their gaze was drawn ever higher. An ambitious plan spawned, one that would prove too enticing to pass. The plan, as most are, began rooted in the stories of others; the communal lore. Tails told of a run so cool, it seemed impossible to pass up. Running the Grand Canyon from South Rim, to the North Rim, and back to the South Rim, all in one unsupported effort, in one day. R2R2R. The stories and Youtube videos told of all the exploits – the fastest known time, the likely finish time, the water spots, the heat in the box. Logistically, a 987 piece puzzle. Physically, a towering effort. Combined? A challenge, a rite of passage, and a chance to add one more story to the communal memoir. Staging outside the south entrance in Williams, AZ, our runners readied 15lb packs, filled with caloric needs, clothes for the frigid night time start, and filtration systems to pull water from the Colorado river along the way. At 3am the next morning, the runners plunged into the searing depths of the Grand Canyon, their bodies a blur against the red rock as the South Kaibab trail descended before them into the belly of a fiery serpent. The 3am start allowed for a calm, and collected 7 hour jaunt across the canyon to the North Rim, interrupted only by one runners yelp over a cramp – a yelp as dramatic as the canyon itself. The North Rim held 10 or so other runners, relaxing, refilling water, and preparing to set off on the return leg of the journey. The descent began without fanfare, making good time down the North Rim, yet as the sun climbed higher, our runners struggled through the box, a narrow corridor serving as the canyons digestive tract – amplifying heat and consuming those without the ardor to battle on. Thinking themselves in the clear, our runners passed safely through the box, onto Phantom Ranch, and were faced with a decision. 10 miles up the lesser grade of Bright Angel trail? Or 8 miles up the steeper South Kaibab, and closer to the car. Both trails forlorn of any water. Thinking themselves stout, our runners opted for South Kaibab, yet just two miles in, one runner began to falter, sweat pouring down his face as his vision blurred and legs turned to lead. The views of the canyon at once beautiful, were now relentless and menacing. With the heat pressing down like a furnace, the other rallied, lifting her teammate, urging him on through the suffocating air, dowsing him with the sweet, sweet Tailwind that once had been reserved strictly for consumption. 90 seconds, rest. 90 seconds, rest. 90 seconds, rest. Their voices and effort dwarfed by the immensity of the canyon, a reminder that in some places, human error still means death. As they neared the top of the South rim, the runners stumbled out of the Canyon, exhausted, but not defeated — they had pushed their bodies to the edge, and together, they survive; more mediocre miles lay ahead.