June 20, 2001
Grand vacation test of abilities
This time next week I'll be cheating death. Strangely, this risk of life and limb is a paid vacation.
My entire adult working career I've never had the luxury of taking two weeks off. In light of this, I've decided to reward myself by hiking the most rugged terrain on earth -Arizona's Grand Canyon - in 100 degree heat. I can't wait.
Most of us have an ultimate 'to do' list we hope to complete before shuffling off this mortal coil. Although I haven't learned to surf, I will soon scratch off "see the Grand Canyon." That is if the condors haven't picked my carrion carcass clean.
For the past few years, my wife and I have spent part of the summer visiting her parent's "studio garage" in Colorado. While most people relax on vacation, we feel compelled to work up a sweat. Whether mountain biking in Telluride or wading in Ouray's hot springs, vacation means being on the go, go, go West young man. So it comes as no surprise that we are spending two days hiking 20 miles of the more than 1.2 million acres known as the Grand Canyon.
Although, I can't say we weren't warned.
Among the breathtaking brochures and spectacular scenery pamphlets, our travel mailings included a single yellow piece of paper. With a "War!" point size headline, the letter started off with three words: WARNING Heat Kills. Then came other sentences with ominous phrases like unique hazards, hikers lured, severe illness and - of course - injury and death.
Within its own framed box in the letter was this cheerful thought: The Grand Canyon is not a test of your physical ability, it is a test of your mental ability and your intelligence. So ... cheat death ... hike smart!
I assured my wife (and myself) that the National Park Service's threatening tone is to dissuade would-be hikers who gripe about having to walk 100 yards across the mall parking lot. Regardless, we have spent the past month preparing for what looks like a weekend with the Michigan Militia (minus the assault rifles). Since I doubt my mental ability for inutile culture references will help fight heat stroke, we are at least trying to pack intelligently.
Admittedly, my Achilles heel has been finding the proper footwear.
For nearly two weeks, I tried on every boot and trail shoe imaginable. I mulled over finite details like full nylon shanks and polyurethane midsoles which could make or break my metatarsal hiking experience. After all, failed upper leathers is an awful way to go off an 8,000 foot high trail.
Ranger Bob: If only he had worn something with greater arch support.
Ranger Ted: Yep.
While it may seem I'm being flippant in the face of death, I have serious concerns about being prepared. After all, as a Boy Scout, I had to eat raw hobo dinner because our patrol couldn't start a fire at a winter Jamboree. Sadly, I don't think even a page ripped from Jack London's "To Build a Fire" would have ignited our kindling.
Thankfully, freezing to death at the bottom of the Grand Canyon is not an option in June. Unfortunately, there are a lot of other choices.
This time next week I'll be standing on the South Rim of one of the seven natural wonders of the world. Over the next two days of our two week vacation, I'll be working up a serious sweat. After hiking some of the steepest and most rugged terrain on earth, I'll be searching for one thing - a postcard bearing the stamp "Mailed by Mule from the Bottom of the Canyon."
After all, how many times in life can you send a postcard with the words: "Having a great time cheating death ... wish you were here."
Grand Traverse Herald editor Garret Leiva can be reached at 933-1416 or e-mail gleiva@gtherald.com