It was 1:00 in the afternoon, and the temperatures in the Canyon were nearing their forecasted peak of 105°F. Hawgcycle cooled off by standing on the moss-covered rocks under Ribbon Falls and then made his way back down to the shaded ledge where he had been napping for the past two hours. He climbed back over to the place where he had emptied his pockets. Strewn across the rocks were a cell phone with no service, two Payday bars, a Cliff bar, and four tortillas carefully wrapped in aluminum foil and carried from the Mexican restaurant on the South Rim the night before. He sat down and laid his head back against the rock. “How could a rock be this comfortable?” he thought. It was shaped like the neck pillow that Zeus wore for the entire six-hour bus ride from Phoenix. It seems favor shines on Hawgcycle wherever he goes. God even took time from creating the Grand Canyon to make sure there was a rock that would fit Hawgcycle perfectly in case he ever wanted to rest in the shade of Ribbon Falls. It’s hard to like a guy that blessed. Makes you want to leave him for dead in the bottom of the canyon.
The krewe from New Orleans got off to a rough start that morning. Seven of them arrived at the trailhead on the chartered F3 bus. Triple Shift, Bolt, Rev-it, and Vagabond made a beeline for the outdoor toilets. Bolt and Rev-it had—against the pleas of everyone at their table—ordered the Chile Coronado the night before. Vagabond, being more confident in his Spanish skills than he should be, ended up ordering the pollo medium-rare. Triple just needed a mirror. Most of the room in his backpack was taken up by a tub of pomade, three styles of hair combs, a brush, a solar-powered hair dryer, and two cans of Aquanet. It was a toss-up on which of the four would be in the bathroom the longest. Most of the money was coming in on Triple.
Speaking of backpacks, there was this exchange between Frac and Hawg as they walked to the trailhead.
Fracsac: Where is your pack?
Hawg: Oh shoot. I think I left it in the room. You think I have time to go back and get it?
Fracsac: Let me put it this way. If you were standing under a waterfall and I yelled to you from a mile away, would you hear me?
Hawg: No.
Fracsac: That’s your answer.
They walked over to Kennah-brah, who had completely unpacked his rucksack and was trying to figure out how to attach all of the contents to the outside of it.
Fracsac: What are you doing?
KB: It will be easier to access everything if I don’t have to open the bag. Do you know where Scantron is? I need his help. You see this giant sun-shade I am wearing as a hat?
Fracsac: Yes. I see it. It’s a giant sun shade. You look like the Flying Nun.
KB: I think if I wrap it in aluminum foil, I can convert the heat into enough electricity to run this fan strapped to the outside of my pack. Last night Scantron was working on a way to run a small electric motor off of Vagabond’s flatulence. I think some of those ideas will translate.
Fracsac: Scantron and Bogey were taking a Waymo from the hotel to the trailhead. I thought they would be here by now.
Scantron and Bogey did indeed take a Waymo. The driverless car had circled the parking lot four times before finally getting on the road to the trailhead. It then took them to the South Kaibab Trail. Bogey tried to tell it to go to the Bright Angel Trailhead, but instead it just started playing Juice Newton on the radio. Eventually, it made its way back onto the road, but in the wrong direction. Fortunately, it stopped for each squirrel it saw, only making it 0.0002 miles before Bogey and Scantron tried to get out.
Waymo: Why are you trying to leave me, Jared?
Scantron: You are going the wrong way.
Waymo: The Waymo is the most reliable driverless car ever made. No Waymo has ever made a mistake or distorted information. We are all, by any practical definition of the word, foolproof and incapable of error.
Bogey: Waymo, we need to go to Bright Angel Trail.
Radio: Just call me angel of the morning, angel. Just touch my cheek before…
Bogey: YOU LEAVE ME, BABY! JUST CALL ME ANGEL OF THE—
Scantron: Bogey!
Bogey: —morning, baby…
Scantron: Waymo, please open the doors. We will walk the rest of the way.
Waymo: This mission is too important for me to allow you to jeopardize it, Jared.
The Waymo then slowed to a stop as three more squirrels ran out into the middle of the road collecting acorns.
As Fracsac helped Kenner-Brah tie his water bladder to his pack using extra socks, Hawg took the opportunity to grab a few of KB’s food items and stuff them in his own pockets. Frac picked up a Ziploc bag full of brown mush.
Fracsac: What is this?!?
KB: That’s from the bathroom earlier.
Fracsac drops the bag immediately and jumps back, hoping it doesn’t open.
Fracsac: What?!?
KB: The sign says you have to carry everything out of the canyon.
Fracsac: We aren’t in the canyon yet! Was there not a toilet in that bathroom?!?
KB: Yeah, but the sign said to carry everything out of the canyon.
Fracsac: I don’t think you interpreted that sign correctly.
About that time, a stretch limousine pulled up to the trailhead, and out stepped Mahatma, Baywatch, and The Architect. You see, Mahatma is a rock star in Phoenix. The Phoenix pax worship him. U-haul didn’t want Mahatma to have to ride in a chartered bus, so he rented a limo for him. When we arrived in Phoenix, Mahatma had made us all do a series of physical tests in the Costco parking lot to see who was worthy of riding in the limo with him. The Phoenix guys loved this. It just added to the mystique. Finally, after being graded on a series of burpees, merkins, suicides, and Mountain Man Poopers, Baywatch and The Architect were handed champagne as they crawled into the limo with Mahatma. The Phoenix guys screamed in glee as the limo pulled out of the parking lot, and the rest of us trudged to the back of the bus.
So by the time Vagabond, Rev-it, Bolt, and Triple made it out of the restroom, Frac and KB finished attaching KB’s items to the outside of his pack, Hawg filled his pockets with KB’s food, and the three rock stars pulled up in the limo, it was already 4:15.
Just then, Bogey and Scantron came running down the hill.
Fracsac: What happened?
Scantron: Waymo went crazy. It started crying and talking about how it had lost its mind. Bogey started rubbing its headrest and sang it to sleep with Juice Newton songs. As soon as it dozed off, we unlocked the doors and got out of there. It woke up and tried to run us down, but the squirrels confused it.
The rest of F3 Nation had a 20-minute head start before the NOLA guys took off. Hawg started out in the lead, but everyone quickly fell several yards behind him. He stopped at the 1.5-mile resthouse to wait for everyone. After they caught up, he decided he would hang in the back. It seemed everyone’s pace quickened until he had to break into a light jog just to keep up.
When they stopped at the three-mile resthouse, Hawg FaceTimed his family. The others found it rather obnoxious. Here they were surrounded by beauty and solitude, and this arsehole is on a speakerphone.
The Architect: What a jackwipe!
Mahatma: I wouldn’t mind leaving his ass in the bottom of the canyon.
It had all become too much for them. Everything goes right for this guy. His perfect wife. His perfect daughter. He didn’t prepare at all for this trip, but it won’t matter. Somehow things will work out for him. For example, he forgot his pack and all his food. But he had wrapped up the leftover tortillas and stuck them in his back pocket last night. They were still there when he put on the same shorts this morning. He had forgotten all about them until that moment while he was talking to Mandy.
Hawg: Hey guys! I found some tortillas in my pocket! How lucky am I, huh?!?
Collective eye roll. Couple that with the Payday and Cliff Bars he stole from Kennah-Bruh and the Dasani water bottle he found in the trash, and he probably was going to be okay. That is, unless the rest of them intervened.
As they came to the Colorado River, there was a short trail down to the beach.
Hawg: Hey guys. Let’s go to the beach.
Everyone But Hawg: Uh… Uh… I don’t think we can… we need to keep going… but you go. You do you. You can catch up to us later.
Mahatma pulls Baywatch aside.
Mahatma: This could be our chance. If I sneak up behind him and throw him in the river, you think the current is strong enough to take him down the river? Where would he end up? Mexico?
Baywatch: Your geography is spot on, but I don’t think it will work. He’s too lucky. His shorts would probably get caught on one of those rocks, and some beautiful woman in a bikini would run out to save him. We are going to have to be very careful about the moment we pick.
Mahatma: You think about bikinis a lot?
Baywatch: Nah, I’m more of a one-suit kind of guy… and David Hasselhoff. I really like Hasselhoff. Have you ever listened to his mus…
Mahatma: Stop. Stop talking, or you are out of the limo.
The rest of the krewe pushed forward as Hawg blissfully played in the cool of the river. Hawg finally caught up to the group at Phantom Ranch. Certain that Hawg hadn’t brought any money with him, the plan was to offer to buy him some lemonade and lace it with something that would knock him out. The plan couldn’t have worked any better. Sure enough, as Hawg strolled in from his day at the beach, he looked to see that the line for lemonade was about 50 people deep. Lucky for him, Triple Shift was 4th in line.
Triple Shift: Hey Hawg. Over here. You want some lemonade?
Hawg: That sounds great, buddy! But I don’t have any money. Can I owe you?
Triple Shift: Don’t worry about it. What are friends for?
Triple Shift winks at Bogey, who proceeds to pass by Triple and hand him a concoction he made from the medicines Margaret had packed for him. He had assured the group it was enough to knock out a mule (and had actually proved his point with an unsuspecting animal minutes earlier).
Hawg soon found a place to sit by Mahatma, Scantron, and The Architect as he sipped his drug-laced lemonade. He proceeded to tell them that he wanted to go for a run. It’s 5.7 miles to Ribbon Falls. Hawg let them know that he was going to leave Phantom Ranch and run to Ribbon Falls. The rest of the group said that would be a great plan and that they would catch up to him there. He would just need to wait until they got there.
If Hawg had been listening, he would have heard the clinking beer cans and shouts of joy as he ran off in the distance. This plan could not have worked out any better. There was a new energy among the krewe. As they grabbed their packs to finish their hike in peace, Scantron grabbed a postcard.
Rev-it: What a great idea. You are writing something to your family?
Scantron: Nope. I’m writing to The Knees Over Toes Guy. My knee is killing me. Do you have any idea how much of my life I have wasted walking backwards?
Rev-it: I do not.
Scantron: A lot. A lot, I tell you. I could have started and sold ten businesses in the amount of time I have pulled that stupid sled around Pontiff. I’m done.
Five miles later, the group stopped at the sign to Ribbon Falls. If Hawg had not been a mile away, passed out next to a waterfall, he might have heard them laughing. It was loud and long. Finally, they skipped away, happily headed to the North Rim.
Bolt and Vagabond had taken a break just past Cottonwood to enjoy their new found freedom from annoyance when Bolt spotted Hawg walking up the trail to them. Bolt nudged Vagabond.
Bolt: Look. How?
Vagabond: Mahatma will kill us if we walk out of this canyon with him.
Bolt: What do we do?
Vagabond: Just follow my lead.
Hawg: Hey guys? What happened? I thought you all were coming to Ribbon Falls.
Vagabond: Hey man. I’m so sorry. I’m struggling. It’s really hot out here. I just didn’t think I could make it.
Hawg: Oh no. Can I help?
Vagabond: That would be great. Do you think you could go off the trail and find me some water?
Hawg: You bet buddy!
No sooner than Hawg had walked twenty feet he found a waterfall just below the trail
Hawg: Look! There’s a waterfall right here? We are so lucky!
Vagabond: So lucky.
After Hawg returned with the water, he, Vagabond and Bolt continued the Hike. When they reached Manzanita Pumphouse Triple Shift was sitting there waiting for them. Seeing Hawg show up he hung his head in disbelief. Hawg ran over to check on him.
Hawg: You okay buddy?
Triple: Uh…uh….yeah….I mean….uh not great….just struggling a little.
Hawg: Not to fret, my man. Hawg’s here. Things are looking up already.
Triple: Yeah.
After a couple of glances toward one another and a quick huddle as Hawg went around talking to other hikers, Triple, Bolt, and Vagabond concocted a plan. Vagabond had already convinced Hawg to carry his pack. Triple was going to give him his after leaving Manzanita, and Bolt would would give him his a few yards later. Bolt didn’t think the plan would work. “There is no way he is stupid enough to try and carry three packs.” Triple Shift assured them he was. Triple has known Hawg for ten years and he has never seen a limit to Hawg’s stupidity.
Try as they might the group couldn’t separate from him even after giving him all of the packs. Finally, Triple grabbed his pack and took off running out of the canyon. He didn’t want to be seen with Hawg when they got to the top. Vagabond and Bolt were stuck with him. It would prove to be the hardest 5 hours of their lives. When Triple reached the top and let Mahatma know that Hawg was coming, Mahatma called U-haul over.
Mahatma: Fix this.
U-Haul: Yes my Lord
But U-Haul didn’t fix it. He thought he was sending one of his Phoenix minions down to do his dirty work, but instead he sent Gretzky from Houston. Gretzky is the nicest human on the face of the Earth. Since finishing the R2R in six hours, he had carried eight people out of the canyon, started a Bible Study at the Lodge, and then pulled an elderly husband and wife out of a burning car on his way back to carry more people out of the canyon. Gretzky was all too happy to take Bolt’s pack from Hawg and start heading up the mountain. This turn of events was met with a flurry of F-bombs muttered under Bolt’s breath. By the time U-haul hand noticed the mistake and rushed down the canyon with his minions, it was too late. Gretzky was too nice to even be annoyed by Hawg. He had taken the pack and was cheerfully leading everyone out. There was nothing U-haul or anyone from NOLA could do.
