Back in August 1972 I attempted to reach the bottom from the South Rim.
My friend and I left the south rim at 7am. We had two full canteen. Nick and I ran out of water around Skeleton Point.
The Colorado looked so inviting, but we were parched by the summer sun and quit our quest.
Near the top I ran into someone from my hometown. Moon Marco, who had bullied me incessantly with Joe Tully.
He was friendly and remarked how strange it was that we ran into each in the West. I
agreed and after he departed carrying two gallon bottles of water, I related the connection to Nick, who pointed to Moon and asked, "I didn't hear him say sorry."
Punches, kicks, and slaps.
Never knowing why.
Throwing or rolling rocks or other items down hillsides or mountainsides, into valleys or canyons, or inside caves was prohibited by the National Park Service.
Moon was still within striking range.
"Me, neither." so I rolled a rock down the slope at Moon.
The bully ran for cover, as I rained more boulders at him.
After I stopped, Nick asked, "Are you feeling better?" "Yes, and about a lot of things." We got in Nick's BMW and continued west to California.
It wasn't very far away from Arizona.