I began to overheat under the weight of seven liters of water, plus food, shelter, and supplies for eight days of backpacking under the intense Arizona sun. Blisters were already forming, and I had 97 miles left to hike until the South Rim of the Grand Canyon alongside someone I had barely seen in 10 years.
Hours earlier, Sarah and I had been dropped off at the wrong trailhead on the Utah border by Glen, a shuttle driver who lived just south of the Grand Canyon. He regaled us with stories of his cockroach farm, venomous snakes, eight children, and sizable arsenal. He had also brought one of his eight children along for the ride. His son couldn’t have been older than seven, yet he was proud to recite each caliber of gun he had already fired as his dad looked on with pride. Sarah and I laughed uneasily, pondering how the next four hours in Glen’s minivan would go.