In the summer of 2023, I took my newly turned 13-year-old son, Everett, on a “Rite of Passage to Manhood” journey as we hiked the Grand Canyon, Rim to Rim.
In Ohio, there’s just not the terrain you can train on that would mimic the Canyon, but we found the nearest large hill and began our 2-month training session. Armed with a backpack filled with an 18lb bag of dog food and a 10lb dumbbell, we traversed the nearest hill hundreds of times.
But, upon dropping into the Canyon, it turns out, we were ill-prepared for such a feat. The hike offered steps, rocks, stumps, roots, other hikers, scorching heat, donkeys, wildlife, critters, a 38-pound backpack, hiking poles, and an abundance of other items that made our training ‘hill’ look like mere child’s play.
On Day 1, we descended.
Our tour guide was in front, and the rest of us 4 suckers followed like clumsy sheep behind. We had met our other tour companions the night before and they stated that their training plan had been multiple flights of stairs in a stairwell of a local hospital in St. Louis where they were from. Between the 4 of us, we tripped and staggered behind our new friend and tour guide…Uphill Phil. Turns out that Uphill Phil was a free spirit, living mostly out of his van as he picked up gigs in major national parks being a guide. His dream someday, he shared, was to author a book. He proudly declared the title: “A Guide’s Guide to Guiding”. Catchy, I thought.
One of Uphill Phil’s encouragement to us as we struggled to not die on the Canyon trail on which there were no guardrails, was to look forward, not far.
The implication was that if we stared at the ground to get our footing, we’d miss the beauty of the hike. Yet, if we transfixed our eyes too far ahead, we’d certainly trip over something under foot. The key therefore, was to look forward and experience the beauty of the hike, while using your peripheral vision to note where your next step should be, while not looking too far or else you’d fall flat on your face, or worse yet, over the side of the Canyon wall. Thus, the hike proved to be both physically and mentally challenging.
While this encouragement seemed elementary, it did take some getting used to. I often found myself staring at the ground to find firm foundation for my next step. And, in so doing, I missed seeing all that the Canyon had to offer. Too, if I caught myself looking too far ahead at the grandeur of the landscape, I would most certainly trip over something and mentally generate a cuss word or 3. After a few Canyon miles, we all got the hang of it. Turns out his advice was not only helpful, but truly allowed us to experience the hike at a deeper level.
What about you? No, I’m not asking about your recent hike, I’m asking if you’ve ever stumbled because you were looking too far ahead? Not appreciating the moment right in front of you, not sensing the next firm step that should be taken, not enjoying the beauty right before your eyes. It’s so easy to get ahead of ourselves. Always wanting what’s next, what’s better, what’s bigger, what’s more exciting. Yet, there’s joy in the journey. There’s joy in this moment. There’s something about just looking at what’s right there, right within your grasp, to behold and enjoy in that time, in that moment.
Turns out, Uphill Phil had great advice. I remember it from time to time as I journey this path called Life. I encourage you to live by it too.
Look forward, not far.
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I check Amazon from time to time to see if Uphill Phil ever authored his book A Guide’s Guide to Guiding. He said he’d been a guide for Rim to Rim hikes for over 10 years, traversing the landscape literally hundreds of times. At the beginning of our hike, he stated that at 13, Everett would most certainly be the youngest finisher he’d ever had…that is, if he finished. Uphill Phil promised that if he ever did write his book, Everett would make it in his pages as his youngest finisher of his Rim to Rim guided tour. This provided Everett with a solid goal to achieve, and it made him work even harder to accomplish it. And…he did. We exited the Bright Angel Trailhead 4 days and 23.9 miles later. Indeed, the hardest thing I’ve ever done, and obviously the hardest thing that Everett had done. We look back at that journey often, and remember the lessons learned and the sweet victory of the finish. Most importantly, during our 4 grueling days in the belly of the Canyon, Everett left his boyhood behind, and rose out of the Canyon as a man. He overcame, he did hard things, he persevered. He embraced his purpose, he understood who God created him to be. He became a man.
