“I can’t do this. I really can’t. I’m done,” I somewhat coherently muttered to myself. The temperatures were soaring. I had run out of water and energy bars a few hours before. I was bent over with my hands clutching my dusty knees, swaying back and forth as I couldn’t seem to find balance. I noticed my shirt was almost dry and I had stopped sweating. At that moment, with less than a mile to go, I would have paid any cost and dealt with the ridicule sure to follow if I could have quit. But I hadn’t seen any pack animals for quite some time. And there was no way a helicopter would come for me this close to the top of the South Rim.
I would have to continue. But I couldn’t. At that moment, a friend of mine named Jim Holder who had joined us on the hike, was coming up the trail and offered me his water and a Cliff Bar. “Just rest for a few minutes,” he said. “It’s not like we can leave without you.” Maybe he was right I thought. So I took some of his water and ate a little; although nothing tasted very good at the moment.