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Down the North Kaibab

One evening in the spring of 2021, we were at a friend’s house when she told us about her upcoming Grand Canyon Rim-to-Rim hike in October. She didn’t want to hike it alone and was looking for a hiking partner.

Never in a million years did I think I would consider a hike of this magnitude. I loved hiking in the mountains and deserts of Arizona, but my typical hikes covered only 3–5 miles round trip.

By the end of the evening, she had talked me into joining her. I left feeling excited, scared, uncertain, and anxious—all at the same time. But, I had only about six months to prepare.

I trained whenever my schedule allowed and watched countless YouTube videos from people who had completed the hike. I studied the trail, listened to their advice, and tried to prepare myself for what lay ahead.

Let me just say: nothing can truly prepare you for a Rim-to-Rim hike.

Grand Canyon Lodge Cabins

We arrived at the North Rim a couple of days before the hike to give ourselves time to acclimate to the 8,500-foot elevation. We rented a cozy little cabin and spent the next couple of days hiking around the North Rim. The night before our big adventure, we enjoyed a campfire-cooked spaghetti dinner right at the edge of the canyon—a little carb-loading to fuel us for the hike ahead.

Sadly, several of these cabins, along with the Grand Canyon Lodge, burned in the Dragon Bravo Fire on July 12–13, 2025.

On the third morning, our alarms went off at 3:30 a.m. as we prepared for our 4:30 departure. The North Rim greeted us with a chilly 35 degrees, so layering up with Under Armour was a necessity. We knew we’d warm up quickly once we started hiking, but at that hour, we were grateful for every layer.

The Hike – Day 1

Day 1 Destination: The Colorado River

We arrived at the North Rim trailhead ahead of schedule, around 4:15, said goodbye to our hubbies, and started the journey.

The first thing you can’t help but notice on this trail is the overabundance of mule shit and pools of urine scattered everywhere. In some spots, the stench hits you so hard you just want to vomit. The good news? We only had to endure it until we reached the tunnel, which marks the turnaround point for the mules. The bad news? The tunnel sits 1.7 miles down the trail.

We had about two hours of hiking in the dark ahead of us. You might think 14½ miles downhill would make for an easy hike, but it’s far from a stroll in the park. Almost immediately, we tackled a series of switchbacks packed with steps—some short, some tall, and some VERY tall. My short legs did not appreciate those tall ones one bit.

Apparently, giants built this trail.

On to Phantom Ranch

We reached the bottom of the Canyon after crisscrossing Bright Angel Creek seven times when a thunderstorm started moving in overhead. I felt a little nervous that the storm might turn intense, but it turned out to be nothing more than a nice passing rain shower that cooled us down.

The bottom of the Canyon is stunningly beautiful. The trail weaves in and out of side canyons, bringing you up close and personal with rocks that date back 1.8 billion years. We finally arrived at Phantom Ranch around 6:30 p.m.

My goal was to cross the Colorado River while it was still light so I could capture some good GoPro footage, but it wasn’t meant to be. We still had about a mile to go before reaching the river, and darkness had already settled in. So we pulled up a bench in the amphitheater, kicked back, and rested for a few hours.

Of course, we had to try the obligatory Phantom Ranch lemonade. Honestly, I don’t see what all the hype is about—I’ve had better lemonade! After our little refreshment, we tried to catch a few hours of sleep.

The next challenge awaited us: a long, steep climb up the South Kaibab Trail—7½ miles from Phantom Ranch with a grueling 4,700-foot elevation gain.

Day 2: Up the South Kaibab to the South Rim

Day 2 destination: the South Rim. Around midnight, we packed up and headed out. The South Kaibab Trail has no water, so we filled our CamelBaks and spare water bottles and stocked up as much as we could. All that water added plenty of weight, and with my legs and back already sore, every step felt slower.

We crossed the Colorado River in the darkness, walking over a bridge that seemed to stretch on forever. Then we started the dreaded ascent.

Up ahead, we could see a few trail runners heading down the trail, their headlamps glowing like lightning bugs in the darkness. Meanwhile, we faced mile after mile of climbing.

I can describe the South Kaibab Trail in three words: steep, switchbacks, and stairs.

At one point, I seriously asked my hiking partner how much a helicopter ride to the top would cost. Yes, I had my credit card with me! She kindly encouraged me to keep going instead. LOL. One of the many times during this adventure when a little encouragement kept me moving forward.

The Tipoff

I needed frequent rest stops, which slowed our progress even more. Three miles up, we finally reached our first rest stop, the Tip-Off. It was still dark, but we welcomed the chance to sit down, catch our breath, and take a load off for a few minutes.

The most grueling part of the trail still lay ahead: 1½ miles of seemingly endless switchbacks and stairs climbing the canyon wall. Up and up we climbed, one step at a time.

At the 4½-mile mark, we finally reached Skeleton Point. Hallelujah! We had conquered the last of the switchbacks and stairs, at least for a while. The south rim was getting closer. My water supply held out well, but I felt tired, sore, and hot. As I sat there catching my breath, I couldn’t help thinking, I know why they call it Skeleton Point. I felt like I could curl up and die right there.

It was time for a snack and a good rest. Only three more miles to the top. I can do this.

What we didn’t know at the time was that our hubbies stood at the top of the canyon at Yaki Point, watching us climb the trail and cheering us on. They yelled down into the canyon, but the distance swallowed their voices. We never heard them.