It seems as though every time I do something really macho, like hike to the River and back, or down the SK and across the Tonto to BA, no one asks me how far I've been.  But let us hike to Skeleton Point and back, and invariably everyone will ask, "So, are you coming from the bottom?"

Of course, there is nothing wrong with a little six mile and 2,000 foot jaunt.  And I could lie.  But I am not a facile liar.  I have to think things out in advance so I don't become confused.  It is easier, as someone once said, to tell the truth because then you don't have to remember what you said the first time.

Brad is good at dissembling.  He doesn't lie, per se, but he is a good prevaricator.  A bunch of Texans asked if we were climbing out from the bottom, and Brad said, "It's a great hike."  So it is, we just weren't doing it that particular day.  Or if they ask, "Been to the bottom?" I can answer truthfully, "Why, yes."   So I have, just not that day.

It reflects on me more than anything else that I don't want to admit that I am doing something less ambitious than an in-and-out.  Especially to people I don't know and will never see again, unless I catch them writing their names on the rocks, but then I don't care what they think

.  After all, when I see people I know, I  don't mind admitting that we only hiked halfway down.  Of course they know what Skeleton Point means, and these others usually don't.

Once though, I got my lie just right.  We were trudging out and a group of Boy Scouts nudged us off the trail (uphill has the right of way!).  They were chatting about all they were going to do on the North Rim, and they were less than halfway down the South Kaibab.

The leader asked, "Coming from the North Rim?"

Without evening thinking about it, I said, "Yep".

"What time did you start?"

"Five AM."  Which happened to be true.

He stared.  "Wow.  That's a good time."

"Yep."  I kept going and thought, "that will give them something to talk about on their way across."