For a long time, one of the top items on my bucket list was to climb down into the Grand Canyon. It was love of first sight 12 years ago, when I first visited, and again three years ago. On those visits, I was able to see the Canyon from the South Rim and then from the North Rim. But looking down, I wanted to deepen my relationship with the Canyon. There is something spiritual about this place. It could be the verse Mimaamakim kra’aticha — one of the Penitential Psalms — “Out of the depth I called unto you Adonai. (Psalm 130)

There is nothing deeper in America than the Grand Canyon. Different nations or faiths satisfy the need for a pilgrimage in different ways and in different places. Americans use the Grand Canyon as a pilgrimage site. In Hebrew, the term pilgrimage is Aliya La’regel — ascent for the occasion — but regel also means foot. Something is incomplete in a spiritual ascent if it doesn’t involve a physical journey, as Abram and Sarai did before God awarded their names the letter H, thus becoming Abraham and Sarah. In fact, after the march with the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. in 1965 from Selma to Montgomery, Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel, said, “I felt like my feet were praying.”

What I knew for certain was that I couldn’t make the round trip in one day. I was hoping I could do it in two days, one climbing down and one climbing up. But to accomplish that required me to secure a place to spend the night at the bottom of the Canyon. This required booking at least two years in advance. The other option is to call the same morning and hope for a cancellation. And there was one.

I had a couple of hours to get ready and drive to the park. By the time I started the climb down the South Kaibab trail, it was already 2 p.m. I knew at that point I had only six hours to make it before dark. When it gets dark “in the depth,” it gets really dark. Since my days in the Israeli Army, I was used to long excursions up and down mountains, usually in the dark. Moreover, leading the pilgrimages to the Holy Land every year put me in the mindset of a walking expedition. But this was different. I was alone, and the territory was unfamiliar to me. I recited Psalm 23 — “…even if I walk in the valley of the shadow of death, I fear no harm because you are with me.” I was not afraid. It was not the first time I was alone with God.

Just after pitch dark, when no human or animal can be seen, I saw three glittering lights, like lightning bugs, coming down the mountain, followed by giggling voices. As they approached, I turned on my flashlight to signal my presence. I was leaning against a rock, letting my feet and my being rest. The lights and voices were three young women from New York City, of all places. At the time I was talking to God, he was already sending me his angels. Ki Malachaiv yetzave lach lishmorcha bechol derachecha — He [God] will charge His angels for you, to protect you in all your ways. The three “Charlie’s Angels” insisted on walking with me for the last hour, until I got to my room.

The next day, I started up a different trail —  The Bright Angel. There I met other angels. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to make it all the way up in one day. When I arrived at the midpoint, Indian Garden, I knew I would have to spend the night there. The park provided me with a tent and a mattress. But because I didn’t have a reservation, I would have to camp by myself in an outside section. A family I’d met earlier on the trail happened to camp there as well. When they saw me, they invited me to pitch my tent among them, and they offering me a warm-cooked  dinner.

On the third day, I tried to be someone else’s angel. It was to be an eight-hour climb in intense heat. I was not in a hurry. I had learned my lessons —  drink, snack, and rest intermittently. But I noticed a man who was struggling. I decided to accompany him the rest of the way, and we became a team. We would do it together, and together we finally made it. It was a victory — a victory of the body, the spirit, and the camaraderie. The Grand Canyon of angels.

—Rabbi Gadi Capela