To know a person's character you sometimes have to spend considerable time with them, or go through a difficult situation that brings out the true character that we are made of. Our hike today tested the very core of each of us.
The North Kaibab trail from Cottonwood to the backpack camping area at the top of the North Rim is 8.2 miles. The rise in elevation from the bottom to the top is almost one mile straight up of steep switchbacks. The beginning of the trail follows the cascading crystal water of Bright Angel Creek as it falls toward the bottom of the canyon, eventually to make its way to the Colorado River. The water flows against the sand colored rocks that make up the stream bottom and create a gurgling symphony that reverberates against the canyon walls. The North Rim has a distinctively different look than the South Rim. Cactus and scrub pines are now mixed in with cottonwoods and aspens. The golden leaves of the aspen trees shimmer in the breeze blowing downward from the top of the canyon. The song birds that live within these trees add their own chorus to the canyon symphony.
By 7 am we had broken down our camp at Cottonwood and were on the trail heading North. With 50 lb. packs we developed a slow, measured pace as we climbed steadily uphill. Usually, there is little humidity in the desert, but today was an exception. Within the first mile of the hike we were sweating almost faster than we could replace the fluids back into our bodies. It was, I now know, a sign by nature of what was to later come.
Along the way we encountered a solo woman hiker named Karen that we had met the day before at Ribbon Falls. She told us that her husband, who was not able to make the hike, was waiting for her at the North Rim parking lot. As we climbed the wind grew stronger and cooler and the blue sky of the early morning gave way to low gray clouds that swept the top of the canyon. When I climbed to the top of the North Rim a year ago it was later in the month of October and the lodge at the top had been closed for the winter. I was looking forward this year to seeing the lodge open.
As the trail winds it's way toward the top it often clings to the face of sheer cliffs that drop away to the bottom of the canyon far below. About half way up we heard the sound of thunder and shortly afterward the rain began. Strong gust of wind whipped through the canyon and the air began to get cold. We had been trying to take short breaks every hour but discontinued that practice as we developed a sense of urgency to get to the top. I could feel myself running out of energy and knew that we still had about two hours of the most difficult part of the hike ahead of us. The rain created a stream of water that flowed down the middle of the trail and turned the red dirt into mud. With each step I could feel my pack become heavier and the energy flow from my body as though it was being pulled back into the canyon.
Mistakes fall into two categories; those that are avoidable and those that are unavoidable. Today I made an avoidable mistake that I learned from in a painful way. I do not believe I ate enough last night to sustain the energy output of the climb. It is the small elements that matter in life and in the canyon they matter even more. It is a life lesson that ultimately I am appreciative of.
It was a punishing hike. In the canyon, everything is further away than it looks. When you think you are near the top you are often actually some distance away. On several occasions rocks, loosened by the steady rain, fell away to go crashing and bouncing toward the bottom of the canyon. I was hiking in the lead position and at one point a softball sized rock fell onto the trail from above and landed about five feet in front of me. It was another lesson, this time about the random possibility of unavoidable accidents in life.
When we arrived at the top of the North Rim at around 3:30 we had each been tested and we had endured. It was an exhausting, triumphant moment. The character of my hiking partners was never more nakedly apparent then during today's climb. They hiked strongly, and most importantly supportively, and I have come to know them as people I would like to be around in both the best and worst of life's circumstances. They each are people that can be counted on.
At the trailhead parking lot we met Karen and her husband. We had speculated on the trail that Karen might be either an artist, a schoolteacher, or a nurse, as judged by her personality. We found out that Karen owns a VW repair business in Seattle. Another of life's interesting lessons learned. From the parking lot we hiked the 1 mile to the campsite and set up our tents. The campground had a hot shower and laundry area where we dried our clothes and took what we each agreed was one of the best showers ever.
After we cleaned up and dried out we hiked the 1.2 miles from the campground to the North Rim Lodge, arriving there just as the sun was setting. We ate at the lodge cafeteria and made our way back to the campsite where our tents were set up under some towering lodge pole pines about 50 yards from the rim. The wind has increased and is literally howling through the pine forest that we are in. The forecast tomorrow is for continuous rain turning into snow, and we are concerned about the hike back down into the canyon.
Veterans Day puts a face to the freedoms we enjoy in this country. It puts a face to those men and women who sacrifice so much for the freedoms large and small that we all too often take for granted. The faces of American veterans are those images of our grandparents and parents, our brothers and sisters, our children and grandchildren. They are all too often the gentle faces of young men and women who have volunteered to protect us with their very lives. 
