Got out of the corridor this weekend. Hiked down the Grandview with two friends and camped at Cottonwood Spring. The trail was uber icy. Scary, in fact. Of course the Grandview has always freaked me out, and with ice, well... Jesse had dislocated her shoulder and her physical therapist told her she could walk but not carry a pack, so she tied the pack onto one shoulder. I'm not sure that's what the PT meant, but she decided to only come for the one night.

The first night was COLD. In the morning, the water bottles were supercold. When I tried to pour water, the water froze in the bottle as I was pouring. This happens when the temperature is way below freezing. Our companions hiked out, leaving us to the ice age.

Lots of water at Cottonwood Spring. Lots of water at Grapevine. Very dead bobcat in Grapevine. Thought we saw a ruin in an overhang whilst hiking into Grapevine as well.

We loaded up with water at Boulder from a small pothole and camped out near the point figuring it would be warmer. It was. It barely got below freezing, and I didn't even tie up my sleeping bag hood until midnight. Found a lot of worked churt. Maybe a worksite for the Ancestral Puebloans. Found some beautiful cruciana tracks. That's trilobites, ya'll.

Lots of water in Lone Tree. None at Cremation, but when is there? Loaded up with water again to camp just outside the use area. Colder than night two: not as cold as night one.

Forgot what a pain it is to hike down and and out of two of the three branches of Cremation. It is steep and loose and just a whole lot of fun.

Hiking out from the tipoff we were just ahead of the mules. I can stay ahead of them as long as I don't stop, and I had to stop to put on clothes, put on crampons, put crampons on again when they fell off... so the mules were only about 5 minutes behind me at the very end. Glare ice in the Dark Side of O'Neil, just below Cedar Ridge, Poison Point, and of course in the last chute. Two hours 45 minutes from the Tipoff with full packs.

Met a young lady hiking down and I noticed two things. She was wearing sparkly, spangly tennis shoes, and I spared a piteous thought for how they will look when she is done. And she smelled of good perfume. I smelled of wet, dirty wool.

All during the hike we were thinking of the two runners who tried this route in one day in July. The woman died. No matter how strong you think you are, surely coming down the west side of Horseshoe Mesa would give you a clue that this is not good trail. Then it is so rough and narrow getting into Grapevine. And rough and interesting going in and out of some of the little drainages. By the time they could see the South Kaibab, they must have been running without water for hours. It is physically impossible to carry enough water to keep you alive in the full sun in summer down there. And they carried like a liter and a half... I would have turned around at Cottonwood, or maybe Grapevine, but then I am a wimp. A live wimp, but a wimp.