For the first hour of hiking everyone seemed to feel pretty good. It was hot and getting hotter, but my pack felt o.k. and boots felt o.k. too. I believed that I had only the essentials in my pack, but it was still around 45 pounds including a gallon of water. Both the pack and the boots were new purchases, but I had spent some time breaking in the boots. I hadn't done any major training for this trip, but I had hit the gym off and on for a couple of months prior. Little did I know, but I should have been on the StairMaster for 14 hours a day while breathing through a straw, sleeping three hours a night, and eating only trail mix. You live...you learn.
About two hours in to the trip the pack was feeling heavier and the temperature was getting hotter. The trail was not easy. It was a steep constant downhill grade. The terrain was rough; lot's of softball sized rocks just waiting to twist an ankle. There were also some boulders which we had to climb down. Three hours in to the hike the pack felt more like 90 pounds and I was having a tough time catching my breath. I think it was around four hours in to the trip that I starting thinking, 'What the hell am I doing here!?' My muscles were burning. I was soaked in sweat and I couldn't catch my breath. I started realizing that the more I hiked, the further I was going from any source of help. What if I got down in the Canyon and couldn't make my way back up? That would really suck. I decided to voice my concerns to my friends, 'Uh, guys. Maybe we should turn this in to a day hike. Heh, heh.' Blank stares. 'I mean, we could go back up and camp next to the soccer mom mini van.' They thoughtfully considered the option, 'You get your ass down in that Canyon and like it!' Actually, I did voice my concerns that I might be in over my head and they were all very cool about it. Instead of looking at how it would affect the trip, they approached it more as a problem that needed to be solved. They suggested, and I agreed that it was probably a lot harder to return to the top than to continue on. Once we got down in the Canyon, the hiking should be easier and we would be able to recuperate that evening. We pressed on.
We had been hiking for about six hours when we hit the Cathedral Stairs. The Stairs were a grueling series of rock steps which would have anyone's quads burning. By the end of them I was moving very slowly. I felt like an old man and I'm sure I looked like one too. I could only take very small steps even using the walking stick to support most of my weight. We kept hiking and by this point the sun had gone down. Luckily it was a full moon which made it still fairly easy to see where we were going. The three brothers had head lamps on, but they really weren't necessary. It seemed like we had been hiking forever. Finally, I had to stop. I was totally out of breath and felt nauseous. I sat down on a rock and started vomiting. Since I hadn't been able to eat much, there wasn't a whole lot that came up. Then I got the cold sweats. I layed down on the trail and Tim gave me some clothes to cover up with. By the time I had stopped, Bill and Tom had hiked ahead a little ways. Andy was still with me and Tim and he decided to go catch up with Bill and Tom to let them know about my condition. It took Andy a while to return and when he did, he said that Tom was in the same condition.
Bill and Andy eventually returned with more water. The camp wasn't too far away, maybe about 3/4 of a mile, but it was a tricky hike. We would definitely stay put for the night. Tom and I were already laying in our sleeping bags and the rest of guys did likewise. The temperature had definitely dropped from the incredible heat during the day. It was now in the 70's with a nice breeze. I tried to get some sleep, but my heart was racing. I was lying completely still, but my heart was pumping as if I were jogging down the road. The only thing that I could figure was that my heart was trying to get more oxygen in to my blood.
Wednesday, 09/13/00
Monument Camp was beautiful. A huge rock monolith stood right in the middle of the area. A small stream bubbled down a series of rocks. There weren't any formal camp sites, but there was a solar composte commode. There was a solar powered fan that removed the moisture from the, well, crap. Every five years they haul the, well, crap, out and take it to a landfill. Kind of interesting, but man did it stink.
Andy was down filtering water, so Tim and I joined him and started filling up our water containers. We each had room to carry a gallon of water, except for Tim. He had an extra 2.5 gallon mammoth bladder. It ended up being a huge help, but man it must have added 20 pounds to the weight of Tim's pack. Tom and Bill made it down to the camp close to an hour later. They filled up their containers and we discussed our plan. We knew we couldn't walk in the heat for very long. That had been painfully obvious the previous day. So, instead we decided to hike until noon, find some shade and then rest and relax until later in the day when the sun wasn't so powerful.
As we were laying under the tarp, sweating our asses off, I took a look at my R.E.I. compass/thermometer. It read 110 degrees...IN THE SHADE!! I tried to sleep, but it was no use. I could only lay down for short periods of time because the ground was so hot, even laying on top of my sleeping bag. We talked some, but mainly just sat there and sweated. At one point, Tom got from under the tarp to get a snack. All of a sudden, in a loud voice, he says, "JESUS!" Bill asks him what the problem is and he looks up in the sky and exasperatingly says, "The fucking Sun!" It was such a pathetic situation that we all started cracking up. At least we could still laugh about it. Although we were using less water than if we were hiking, it sure didn't feel like we were regaining any energy. Around 4 p.m., Bill made some food. Ramen noodles, and some other pasta. I still wasn't hungry but I forced down a few spoonfulls after it had cooled.
Thursday, 09/14/00
Photo finish shots thanks to Tim who motored ahead.