My Rim to River to Rim Journey with KDA

It has taken me a minute to process, to think, to be ready to share here, but here’s a little about our day in the Grand Canyon.

We began in the dark, the sun just a faint glow peeking at the edge of the vastness of the Grand Canyon. Sixteen kidney donors, each with one kidney and a thousand reasons for being there. We weren’t just a team. We didn’t know it yet, but we were a family stitched together by shared purpose and the quiet knowing of what it means to give a piece of yourself so someone else can live.

The fires had changed our route, and the government shutdown nearly stopped our plans altogether. Two members couldn’t come, but we carried them with us.  And if there’s one thing this group knows, it’s how to pivot with grace. We adjusted, we prayed, and we promised each other we’d take every step together…no matter what the canyon threw at us.

As the sun rose, light poured over the cliffs like fire spilling into shadow. We wound our way down switchbacks that seemed endless, our laughter echoing off ancient rock walls that have witnessed more stories than any of us could ever tell. We crossed creeks, shared snacks, and swapped encouragement. Some of us cried, some sang, some simply walked in silence, overwhelmed by the beauty and gravity of where we were.

By the time we reached the river, the day was already long. The climb out tested every ounce of grit we had left. Muscles burned, stomachs turned, and still we moved. One step at a time. Sometimes fast, sometimes slow, but always forward. We carried each other in every sense of the word: through words of encouragement, shared electrolytes, a hand on a pack, a whispered “you’ve got this,” and even actual piggy back rides.

A couple of injuries and a bout of sickness tested our grit. Besides a few physical injuries, a knee and an ankle; about four miles from the top, it hit me. Food poisoning – I wouldn’t know that’s what it was until later – but first the vomiting, and then the diarrhea (thank the Creator for the bathrooms on Bright Angel Trail!!) About every quarter mile, it seemed, I was on the ground vomiting…once asking for the helicopter, but always getting back up and taking one more step until we made it out.

At times, Emily had her pack on her back, my pack on her front, and Dave’s pack in her hand, as he carried me on his back. At times, I was holding his pack as he was pulling me forward with each step. I can never express enough gratitude for those friends that stayed beside me and helped me finish on my own two feet.

The last few miles were a blur of darkness and determination. Headlamps flickered on. We stood under the stars in awe of the magnitude of the universe and the reality of how tiny we actually are in the grand scheme of things. Voices cracked. Tears fell. But then, one by one, we crested that final ridge. Exhausted. Elated. Changed.

When we looked back over the canyon, it wasn’t just a landscape anymore, it was a mirror. It reflected everything we are: strong, imperfect, resilient, deeply human. We proved what one kidney can do, yes…but more than that, we proved what we can do, together.

We came for a challenge. We left with a bond forged in dust, sweat, and starlight. Sixteen hearts. One canyon. One mission that will echo long after the last footstep faded into the night. Our KDA family.