En Route to Grand Canyon. Monday, May 21.

En route to Grand Canyon. Monday May 20. 

Moving Clouds

Dear Trail Friends,

This posting will probably be a patchwork of fragmentary entries throughout my day of travel. 

At the moment I am in the air between Seattle and Phoenix. I will be taking a shuttle from the Phoenix  “Sky Harbor” airport to Flagstaff, and then another to the south rim of the Canyon (it seems disrespectful to refer to it as just the “canyon” in lower case, don’t you think? In fact, the iPhone keeps trying to correct me and capitalize it - and for once I think the  iphone is right.)

As I look at my last post I realize I have left you behind in Taormina. So, let’s fast frame and make our way together back from Taormina Sicily to Orcas Island, Washington. 

Judy, Chris and I took an early morning taxi from our lovely Hotel Schuler to the Catania airport. We were so grateful that our guide/curmudgeon Stephen had suggested we cancel the rental car. We found it delightful not to be trying to navigate in the dark -  to sit back and be driven. 

We flew first to Rome where we faced the usual panic moments- as when the American Airlines counter rep could not find our reservations from Charlotte to Seattle in her computer, or when I threw away my immigration receipt after getting through customs (not realizing immigration was a separate step - or was that in Charlotte? Must have been. Oh well it’s all a blur now). There were a few other bumps and blips along the way, but we made it safely to our respective flights. To my great surprise I slept a little on the transcontinental flight and a lot on the Charlotte to Seattle flight. Chris slept even more than I did. We arrived in Seattle in the evening and uber-ed to the Seattle home of (daughter and daughter-in-law) Sandy and Betsy. 

The next morning - Wednesday May 16 - we drove north toward the Anacortes ferry. In Burlington, we picked up our car. (Our car, OSilver - named for the Lone Ranger’s horse rearing up as he leans forward and calls “hi ho Silver,” - or to my child ear “HiO Silver,” - had, as you may recall, tried in her youthful high spirits to hydroplane, bucking and spinning around gloriously out of control (not unlike the syntax of this sentence) on a wet freeway and ended up falling into a ditch on the side of the road. She came through almost intact, but with a leaky crank case seal that required major surgery - removal and dismantling of her engine - in order to reseal. We are hoping this will teach her to behave herself - but not of course break her beautiful wild spirit).  We also stopped at Burlington Costco just across the freeway to pick up my repaired hearing aid (which has thankfully stopped its constant squealing and whining. I’m sure the life of a hearing aid is no fun, but still...). We had lunch on the edge of the water in Anacortes, and caught the afternoon ferry home. 

Photo 1 is a coming home collage - the top photo is the view of Orcas as our ferry approaches the landing - and I hope it conveys a little of the sweet feeling of coming home to our beautiful little island. Lower left is a bunch of azalea bushes that show the vibrancy with which spring (after our unusually rainy April) has arrived in Seattle - this is taken at a park near Sandy’s home, where we walked with her and her dog Tracy. Lower middle is Chris on the living room sofa with Echo and Callisto - we love these cats so much and they are the heart of home for us. The right is the view from our bedroom - dangling - oh darn I lost the name of those pink flowers hanging from vines - Clematis!! - and beyond them, the lilac tree in full bloom. (Can you smell the lilacs? Chris picked some and put them in a vase, so our whole living room smelled of spring. )

As wonderful as it was to be home, the pace felt hectic and I was anxious about preparations for the Grand Canyon hike. Thursday we hosted a dinner for my dear friend Bonnie and her sister and their husbands who were visiting Orcas. A totally delightful evening which thanks to the really good company and the prosecco I managed to relax and enjoy. 

Friday I got my short “trail haircut” and went for bodywork. Body worker Rick found lots of reaction to both my fall in Sicily and OSilver’s little spin off the freeway, and I was very grateful to receive Rick’s deep healing touch before starting the trail. 

The truth is I am anxious about this hike. First, will my feet be alright? Second, will my training (now a month out of date, interrupted by the trip to Sicily) be enough for the challenge? I know I lose training fast and I am also concerned about the heat at the canyon bottom ( it will be around 100 for my hike) and the elevation (8230 ft at North Rim - barely a hill by high Sierra standards but I have found myself increasingly sensitive to elevations - one of the reasons I was concerned about my heart). 

My anxiety was increased by the ways in which my memory problems complicated planning. I couldn’t remember anything I had done before Sicily,  and was terrified I was leaving something essential undone. Yesterday  -Sunday- morning before I left for the ferry Chris pointed out that I had not made an itinerary for her. In the past for longer hikes there has been a resupply plan (for her to mail my boxes) and I’ve embedded the itinerary in the resupply plan - but for this short hike both resupply boxes were already mailed, one by my friend Peter McC before we got back from Sicily (thank you dear friend) and one by me after we got back. But when hiking solo, as I do, leaving an itinerary is essential - not just for Chris and me to feel connected, but so they know where I am, or last was, if something unforeseen should happen.  So I spent my last hectic moments before heading for the ferry assembling that itinerary. 

Basically, fellow traveller, we will arrive tonight (Monday) and then spend Tuesday and Wednesday on the south rim. This gives us the chance to adjust to the elevation and try to obtain a better campsite in the canyon (to make for a safer and easier hike). 

Thursday we hike down the south rim. Friday we rest (at the present campsite) or hike halfway up (to wished for campsite). Saturday we hike to the north rim. It’s a very gentle hike for a thru hiker (if I get the campsite I want) but otherwise  it will be a challenge to hike the whole North Kaibab trail up to the north rim (14 miles and 5600 ft elevation gain, preceded by 2 miles and 1200 ft down from the campsite) in one 100-degree day. 

Sunday we will rest and thank the universe that we made it into and out of the canyon. And I hope I will be able to fully savor the beauty in retrospect with the anxiety mostly behind us. From the north rim it’s 76.5 miles to the Utah border (plus a 6 mile detour round trip for resupply) for which I’ve allowed a generous 7 days. The canyon (pardon me: Canyon) part is about 22 miles (plus a 4 Mile detour round trip to the campground, if I can’t get the campground I want). So the whole hike is under 100 miles, compared to the 700 I walked from Mexico last spring.  We should reach the Utah border June 3, camp nearby, and hitch, shuttle or be angel-ed back to Flagstaff Jun 4. We’ll rest there one day before flying home early June 6. 

I should mention that the less favored campground, Clear Creek, was an absolute peak experience during my hike last spring. I was blessed with total solitude in this tiny primitive campground with two tentsites - and as you know in the Grand Canyon trails and campgrounds are usually jam-packed with people. I watched sunset and sunrise in the quiet company of sky, rock, cactus, and the river below us. 

But - there is no shade there and I don’t relish the idea of a “rest” day in 100 degree weather. Two shorter hiking days and campgrounds with shade would be much better, never mind the crowds. Also if I can get those sites, I can make the side trip to Ribbon Falls, the sacred Zuni site where the Zuni People emerged from darkness into light, the sacred site I hoped visit last year, when the bridge was closed. I think the bridge has been repaired and reopened. 

Back to today’s journey. By the time I left home for the ferry (almost leaving my iPhone, which was frantically syncing to get the most up to date version of my plan, and the updated email list for the blog) I was way more anxious than excited. More depressed than happy. The whole hiking thing had begun to feel like an overwhelming ordeal, all in the service of a dream that had died but that I just couldn’t let go of. 

What do you suppose revived the spirit of this passionately solo - but temporarily miserably anxious and depressed - hiker? If I told you contact with people, would you believe it?

It started when Chris’s son Peter came to visit me in the ferry line to see me off. Peter was radiating joy about the Sicily trip and his sequel in the Dolomites - he shared photos and stories and his happiness was contagious. He also talked about how the tour group gave him a wonderful opportunity to practice his social skills (on Orcas he mainly sees old friends and rarely engages with new people).  That notion, of “practicing” social skills, of human engagement as an activity one might “train” for as I train for the trail, totally beguiled me. 

In fact I believe Peter’s fresh angle on social skills helped me both to find my misplaced adventurous spirit, and to apply that spirit of adventure to hiking the “social trail” and not only solo hiking on wilderness trails. 

I noticed the shift in how I felt even more after I reached Seattle when Sandy and I were walking with her dog Tracy. I just walked along, feeling present, finding simple happiness in the flowers, in the walking, in Tracy on her back wriggling through the downhill grass with the agility of a lizard. 

When I had a surprise opportunity to share dinner with granddaughter Sara (though I had thought that I felt more inclined toward a solo evening with trail food) I was able to let it be a small adventure - I ordered two of Sara’s favorite gluten-free personal pizzas to be delivered, and had fun googling the current customs for tipping pizza delivery people, and also interacting with the delivery man - and Sara and I had a sweet conversation. Including that I learned that Sara frequently needs solitude and time-off from people, just as I do.  

Sara starts college next year and I liked being with  her -  on the threshold of such an enormous life change and adventure - and remembering that time in my own life (as well as the not so long ago time - from my perspective - when Sara arrived into this world as an infant on Christmas Day.)

Meanwhile I have been exchanging texts with two people I “met” on the Arizona Trail Class of 2018 Facebook page, both of whom will be arriving at the South Rim today also and who may actually share my campsite, if there is room. I enjoyed texting them and the contact lifted my spirits, a very welcome feeling of pleasure in contact, and very different from the sense of being overwhelmed and overstimulated by human interactions that I often feel along with the familiar longing for the peace and quiet of solitude. 

It was as if I already felt rooted to the ground under my feet and sheltered by the sky, both held safe and set free by the expansive vistas around me the way I do on the trail. I was able to experience the “social trail” with calm and curiosity. What a gift. Maybe the dream isn’t dead yet after all? It sure can be hard at times, though, to persevere through that kind of self-doubt. 

Anyway - photo 2 is a collage meant to celebrate my sense social adventure - with Peter visiting me in the ferry line (left), Sara’s pizza (upper right - yum - I just finished the last piece)  and Sara (lower right) 

This timing is perfect! We’re about to land at Sky Harbor. See you on the ground. 

     *     *     *

Now we are on the Arizona shuttle headed toward Flagstaff. Two minor episodes - spilled my water bottle in the paper bag I was carrying my stuff in so I had to discard it (but had a plastic bag that will suffice until I’m ready to take the protective plastic bag off my backpack and load it up, filling the side pockets in ways that don’t seem secure for the flight and shuttle rides.) And as I walked into the Arizona sunshine I realized that I had not brought any sunglasses. If I had to forget something this is a fairly good thing to forget. I hope I can pick up a pair at the Amtrak station in Flagstaff while I wait for the second shuttle. 

     *     *     *

Now at Flagstaff Amtrak/visitor center. A great place to wait for the next shuttle and just a five minute walk from the hostel I will stay in at the end of the hike. I am imagining how I may spend my last day exploring Flagstaff. 

Riding the shuttle I became enchanted by the sky. The clouds were amazing shapes, full of motion, and seemed to mirror and celebrate my own sense of movement and possibility. As on the trail I feel as if I am “spilling” myself into a larger world, becoming part of a larger magical and mysterious flow. Photo 3 collages sky photos taken from the shuttle. 

Maybe this is a good time to sign off. By the time I walk to Mather Canpground, find my site, pitch my tent, eat my supper, and unpack I will probably be ready to hit the air mattress. 

Thanks as always for walking with me. 

Wait! I forgot to tell you about Adam. He sat beside me on the shuttle. He’s a college student at Auburn headed for the South Rim to work in a kitchen and lead tours. His eyes were shining so brightly.  I love that his summer will be such an adventure. Photo 4 is Adam. 

And now I am on the shuttle heading for the Grand Canyon. I can hardly wait to get to my campsite, pitch my tent, and tuck myself in. 

See you tomorrow - not yet on the trail - but on the trail to the trail.