TransCanyon Ski Jacob Lake to South Rim - continued

Day Four -- This is an easy morning. We break up the tents and haul everything to the Lodge for breakfast. A hot breakfast is an option, but last night was a large meal and it seems I have more than enough food, so maybe it’s better to eat some.

For the first part of today we'll have groomed recreational trails. Off we go... After a short distance, the trail curves up over a hill and several of us, mostly me and Nancy, think the lower part of the valley is more appealing, so we move off the trail and follow a track down the middle. Eventually, our diversion compels the rest of the group to follow. When Marshall catches us he announces, "There are two ways to do this, and this ain't one of them." This atypically direct statement from Marshall is absolutely correct, and so we break a trail across to join with another trail.

This trail goes up a fairly steep hill and I just can't make it. After struggling and sliding back again and again until the others are all gone, I have to take off my skis and tow the sled to the top before I can start again. Push on... snow starts to fall... can't see anyone... tracks leave the trail... follow in a blowing white-out. The grooves in the snow give me good assurance that I'm following the group. After a time, the snow stops for a little and I find the group has paused for some adjustments to gear.

Soon we arrive at the park entrance and make a lunch stop in the trees. Stopping for very long just gets cold, so we soon get moving again. We are on the park road now and it slopes down considerably. Snow starts blowing again straight into our faces. The going is not tough, but I am not as fast as the others. When the road curves and I loose sight of anyone, it's a relief not to feel compelled to chase and try to guess whether I'm gaining or losing. Two rangers pass going out on their snowmobile and make an easy track.

Snowfall starts and stops and now we are out of the main valley and sheltered from the wind. Travel is easier. Marshall waits for me a bit to check on me. I'm fine, but it must be a little cold for him, stopping and waiting. Eat something and move on... The road goes up, and, it amazes me... there's no way I can keep up with Marshall. The top of the hill is Robbers Roost. The downhill is enough to get a little glide with each step, but I still can't keep up. Well, maybe I could, but I would waste so much energy fighting my poor ski form that I would be exhausted shortly. As the road starts to level, I rejoin the group where they have decided to camp.

The snow is soft and still falling. Mike and I work to make a pad and pitch the tent. Marshall and Roger have quite a comfortable house. Kristen finds a spot in the trees to make a trench. Mary and Nancy are now friends like they have known each other for years. During the night I have to pop the snow off the top and walls several times. The big, soft, mushy flakes stick. The morning estimate is 6 inches.

Day Five -- It's the same old thing: I try to get going, but everything seems to take so much time. Marshall waits until I'm set and then we start. Soon he goes on ahead and disappears. Roger leaves notes carved in the snow relating his difficulties breaking trail. At the fork to Cape Royal, Mary and Nancy have stopped for a little. Here, the North Rim ranger, expecting us, has come out in his snowmobile to clear the way. The climb up toward the rim is fairly easy, even fun, and I can almost keep pace with Mary and Nancy. Soon we pass the Kaibab trailhead and then reach the campground entrance. Down this road we soon pass a phone booth. At the campground, "Blue," the North Rim ranger is chatting with the group. A few subtle hints are thrown for an invitation to watch the Superbowl tonight. Blue is diplomatic and evasive. A little sun from time-to-time cheers us all. A good joke is when Marshall asks whether I would rather be doing this or watching the Superbowl. An astute question: Marshall knows well how much I despise Superbowl Sunday, but this time I really can't decide where I would rather be. After setting up tents, everyone heads for the north rim overlook. I decide to try my snowshoes and tramp out behind the group, getting there when everyone else is turning back. The canyon is full of clouds and there is no view, but with luck it breaks for me and I can see a little bit of Zoroaster near Phantom Ranch. At the return, I call home on the pay phone and tell Deb I'm doing "OK" even if I can't say I'm having much fun. It seems disappointing to travel for so many days on foot and still have so much civilization. This is nothing like the "Lewis and Clark" experience I had envisioned. The word for this night is "uncomfortable." I should have had a cover for my pack. The snow has melted into it. Mittens are wet (hands are cold), socks are wet (feet are cold), sleeping bag liner is a little damp (not good)... it seems too much trouble to deal with the cold and go to the trouble to cook and eat anything. I try laying some of the damp items on my stomach to heat them and dry them out. It doesn't work very well.

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