Other Worldy: A 250 Mile Race on the Grand Canyon North Rim

I set out for the Grand Canyon XP this year with the solid intention of riding all five days. What a difference it makes in life to set an intention rather than to let things unfold. And what a difference a year makes – both red horses are now becoming more seasoned: Redford well into his second year and Far celebrating his one year anniversary of competition. It is very comforting to know the horses you are riding have a base.

My departure from Scottsdale was later than planned – as usual, but the drive is not too bad, taking not much over seven hours to get to the base camp on the north rim. As I turned off the main road and started to head up towards Jacob Lake, I was comforted to see a neighbor appear in the rear view mirror. Convoys are good comfort indeed.

I pulled into base camp just after 3 PM and immediately saw the familiar faces of Jim and Clydea Hastie and Julia Lynn-Elias. I pulled in across from them and began to set up a pen and the two spring ties. As well as the two red horses, I had Jack for Rusty to ride later in the week. It was to be Jack’s second 50 – exciting to do on a horse we have had at the barn for four years – starting when he was an awkward stud colt.

I got the boys set up, the fridge working, made sure the furnace worked and began to prepare tack for the morning. I heard there had been ice on the buckets the night before, so I got the heavy winter blankets out for the desert rat horses and extra clothes for myself.

The ride meeting before Day 1 - the anticipation is palpable!

Day 1
My long-term goal had been to ride Redford Day 1, 3 and 5 and Far on the alternate days. Somehow Red ended up doing fewer rides this year than Far and I figured this would be a good way to even out the balance a little. Red is always such an easy horse to ride, and this ride start would be no exception. It was so cold that I decided to hand-walk out for the first mile or so – most people in the back half seemed to be doing the same. Jenny Powers hooked up with me and I mounted the horse as we jumped from sunny spot to sunny spot, trying to find some sensation in my frozen hands and feet.

Before long, we were in an easy trot – a pace we would keep all day – being passed by familiar faces as they rode by, and then passing them again throughout the day as the effect of different pacing strategies evened out the pack. The colors of the spruce and aspen set against the contrast of the deep blue pollution-free sky was breathtaking all day. The aspen were at the perfect point in fall colors – the leaves were crisp and brittle, like chinese paper; the sun refracting through their harvest golden color. Everything was crisp and fresh and unspoiled. It was perfect.

First view of the Grand Canyon

We would roll along the countryside, with very little change in elevation, through high mountain meadows, along single track forest paths and even a little time on forest service roads that were still somewhat soft from the rain earlier in the week. Then we poured out onto the trail that wound its way along the north rim – the infamous Rainbow Trail. The views were endless and humbling; the colors always changing and the enjoyment never waning. As we wound our way along the bluffs we would encounter some mountain bikers – mostly in pairs – and mostly rather surprised to see other forms of human and equine life in the remotest reaches of the north rim.

The views get better and better

We pulled into the lunch vet check, found a sunny spot, covered the horses’ hinds with blankets and let them spend the full hour eating hay, then beet pulp, then grain. Steve was there to help us with sandwiches and iced tea and candy bars. We caught up with old friends, made jokes at their expense and then saddled up to continue our scenic route along the rim before cutting back in to find our grassy meadows full of good eating for the horses. Our even pace got us back to base camp in just under nine hours of riding – it was still warm enough to sponge off the trail dust and dried sweat from the horses, wrap their legs and get our crew bags ready for Day 2. It could not have been a more perfect day.



Day 2
The anticipation of riding Far always gets my adrenaline flowing. He is a lot of horse with a bottomless pit of energy and no threshold for pain. It is like driving a TVR on a wet track – easy to lose control and hard to get it back. As he gets fitter, I have experimented with letting him move out in the beginning, rather than holding him back in a fruitless effort to pace him. Jim and Clydea were kind enough to offer for me to ride with them. I took my heart in my mouth, jumped on Board the fiery mount and within moments we were at the front of the pack heading down the trail at a healthy working trot, feeling invincible, excited and exuberant. Far was having fun and so was I – as we went along twisty forested trails, along old logging road covered in lush grass and across brooks. Sharon and Crokett were just ahead of us – and Sharon came apart from her horse when a deer jumped from a hill to the side of her – right across her path. The horse stopped short and Sharon kept going. But she was only off for a moment: her lovely mare stopped and waited for her; she got back on and we were off again at a 9.5 MPH working trot.



It took us just over an hour to find the first water stop – I hopped off, and as much as Far and I were enjoying our romp through the woods, I decided to back off a couple of mph: I don’t really train at that speed; the day was young and I still planned to do two days on Far. I thought conservation would be a good thing. Far did not agree – I had to hand walk him for almost 30 minutes while he threw a fit and I tried to stay calm and patient. After a few groups had passed, hopped back on and we set off. The Day 2 vet check was back in camp, and Far ate and drank like a trooper in the company of his herd buddies at the trailer.



I spent most of the day riding alone – at a pace that was faster than I would have chosen to ride and slower than Far really wanted. But we did succeed on that day in agreeing to compromise and for 90 % of the time, Far was a running machine with boundless energy and a floating trot. He is an exceptional animal – we finished in 11th place in just over 6.5 hours, his energy did not even begin to let up and he was strong and happy at the end of the ride. My big blunder was to have left the nylon strap from my pommel bag under the saddle pad. It was draped across his wither, and had rubbed him down to the bone. Yikes. By morning it would be the size of a large grapefruit and I would spend the next three days agonizing over whether or not to throw a saddle on him and ride him in his blemished state.

Day 3
Day 3 was the previous year’s Day 4 – a trail I knew fairly well. Redford was, as usual, the perfect gentleman. I mounted at the trailer and walked out. The wind had been blowing for three days without stopping and we were cold and weary. The cold in the air overnight made the metal on the spring ties squeak and the wind made the hay bags rub and whine against the side of the trailer. My sleep was intermittent but the horses behaved well – each of them had been getting one 12-hour stint in the corral after the other. The hot water heater in the shower was not working, so bathing had to take place while the sun was still up and the water not too unbearably cold.




As the trail unfolded in front of us, we walked and trotted and walked the gradual climb. Friends came and left and we just moved on in our even pace up the hill and out to the rim. It would be 30 miles before lunch, and I was ready for the hot food and hot chocolate that awaited us at the vet check with a plunging view onto the Grand Canyon. Red did not lift his head from the food, and after lunch we set into a wonderful trip home through the high alpine meadows stretching endlessly and beautifully before us. Red was gentle and supple and forward and easy.

Day 4
Far’s wither seemed not to be improving so I made the decision to ride Redford again, rather than giving him a day of rest before his third 50 in one week. It would be cold again that morning – and it would be the last day of the incessant wind.



I set off with the best riding partner : Julia is always considerate and interesting and willing. I just love riding with her. There was a fair amount of road with a fair amount of rock, so we stopped about five miles into the ride for me to put on a pair of Size 2 Easyboots on Redford’s fronts. I’ve never used Size 2 Easyboots on any horse! Redford seemed happier on the rough stuff, and we would climb our way up and over a rocky forest service road before dropping down and snaking our way along a valley of pasture and cow trails.



It was a delight to find Rusty waiting for us at the vet check – a short 30 minute stop – we were almost in last place. We climbed back up and along the valley before climbing a nice hill and starting the never-ending combination of rocky roads that just went on and on an on and on. I got bored and I know Red did too. It might have been Day 4 blahs, but the riders around me had them too. It might have been the fact that we were not within sight of the canyon. I was pleased to get home and begin the weighing process of whether or not to ride Far on Day 5.

Spot the ice on the side of the trailer

Day 5
I went to bed having decided to ride Far and that the swelling on his wither would decrease and that he would be OK. I woke up the next morning to a chilly 8 degrees and decided to leave him at camp. Julia had offered for me to ride Mr. Freckles – Michael’s high-spirited horse. He was the right color and had the right attitude. And Day 5 was to be a return to the north rim, with views for days and days and days. Rusty was riding Jack, who was a little – urgh – light in the front end at the start.

Jack gets into his groove

Julia was delightful and let me lead and laugh my way down the trail. Mr. F. was an unusually fun horse – always asking for more and always asking in such a way that I could not refuse him. Julia laughed, too, knowing I would be less eager to indulge him after lunch.

Jack in his post-binge coma

20 miles short of 250: sweet

We got to the lunch vet check with a view and laughed some more over Jack and his binge-style eating. Rusty was proud of his little guy on his second 50 and I was just waiting for the horse to choke. We set off for home after all the food had been consumed, and I spent the next four hours negotiating constantly with Mr. Freckles who thought we were going entirely too slowly. What an incredible horse.

Summing It Up
There is nothing to compare to 250 miles on horseback in five days. It was my first experience of doing so since the Owyhee Five-Day in Idaho in 2002. Five days in the wilderness with nothing to focus on but the trail ahead of you is good for the mind (and not bad for the body either). It changes the way you think and the way you act. It gives a sheen to life that simply cannot be created in any other way.



Try it: you’ll like it. Make sure you make it to an XP ride. It will put things back in line.

See you out there!

Kevin