Grand Canyon; Shimumo Creek/Tapeats Creek Loop, Spring 2009

[tshimko]

Circumambulation (almost) of the Powell Plateau, Grand Canyon March 31-April 14, 2009

Well folks, you missed a great one. Did a circumambulation of the Powell Plateau after the trip described in Steck’s Hiking Grand Canyon Loops. Steck starts this one at Swamp Point, down to Muav Saddle, down Saddle canyon to upper Tapeats Creek to the River, then up-river eventually to the North Bass trail and back to Muav Saddle. Because I could not get out to Swamp point in the Spring (snow), I started via the Bill Hall trail to Thunder River and Tapeats creek.

Had a partner cancel for health reasons, then another friend of mine decided to join me, but changed his mind in the days before we were to leave. I finally decided to solo it, but needed to wait a couple days before leaving, as we were having big storms over the Cascades which closed the passes, and I needed to get over Snoqualmie Pass to get from where I live, Tacoma WA, to the GC.

March 29, 30 Sun/Mon
Finally left Sunday morning around 11 am, uneventful day to somewhere in southern Idaho. Slept in car, up early Monday, was at Pipespring NM near Fredonia by 4 pm, got permit, headed south to trailhead. Deep snow on road had me choosing to stop about 3.5 miles short of Monument Pt trailhead. Other vehicles had gone past the snow, but my low clearance Honda civic was not up to it, and deeper snow seen further on the next day proved the choice wise. I pulled the car just off the road.

Slept nicely….it always surprises me now quiet this area can be. As darkness falls, the silence seems to deepen.

March 31, Tues
Up early the next day, got my stuff together, started hiking before sun-up, eventually came to overlooks of the GC. Hiked the 3.5 miles of road, now I’m at the Monument Pt trailhead, two vans (one with trailer), clearly some sort of organized group. Vans were higher clearance and 4WD. Headed along the rim to the place where the trail drops into the canyon. I have on this trip my very first digital camera (a neo-Luddite enters the 21st century!!), a Canon G10. Quickly discover that the many buttons that control all sorts of stuff are easily accidentally pushed while taking the thing in and out of the packstrap-mounted carrying case. Very quickly my first efforts are actually video…..Good Golly Miss Molly, this is way beyond me, and how do I get out of this mode !!!??? I had to stop and get out the manual, one of many times this needed to be done on the trip.

Eventually I’m back to taking regular pics, descend nicely to the esplanade, connect with the trail that comes from Indian Hollow. In about a mile I come to a small spring below the trail that I have relied upon and camped at before…and water was there again. While I do not need water, it’s good to know it’s still there. On to the descent to Surprise Valley, and then to Thunder River. The day is warming, but is still nicely cool, a pleasure at this time of year. I’ve been here now for the fourth time I think. Take in the view, note the Tapeats narrows above the confluence for a possible future trip (I’m not coming bacv to here, planning on exiting at Muav Saddle). It’s great to be back in the magnificence and power of the GC. It’s short romp down to Tapeats creek and my favorite site at creekside, there by 4 pm.

As is my usual routine, getting into water at the end of the day is the first order of business, and where better than Tapeats creek. Washing off the dirt and sweat allows the skin to breath properly, makes me feel brand new again. Setting up camp, I’m now reading the book I’ve brought, Gravity’s Rainbow by Thomas Pynchon. I can look up from my reading and see the walls of the canyon that Tapeats creek has cut through…and see again evidence of the fault here that likely got the creek started here in the first place, evidence that I will see many times again along this trip. Evening falls, I’m off to sleep just feet away from the wonderful sound of the creek.

April 1, Weds
Up early again. I have in recent years stopped bringing my MSR Whisperlite, now use an alcohol stove I made from Heineken beer cans. A half liter pot and lid, food bowl and lid, cup, stove and stovestand weigh under 9 ounces (and the cup is heavy duty polycarbonate, weighs 3 of those ounces, I’m sure I could easily cut total weight to under 7 ounces if I tried). Three fourths of an ounce of alcohol boils a half liter of water, just enough for my breakfast tea and oatmeal.

Start hiking down the west side of the creek. I’m looking for a crossing point that I recall from a previous trip that I’m certain must get me to a worn path that rises with the tilted layers, to a path that is on the edge of the plateau above the river.

Previous trips have taken me all the way down to the river on the right (west) side, generally easy but with a place or two where the trail narrows and is pushed against a cliff, and slopes sideways as well, with significant exposure. This route eventually descends a steep gully just before the river, and requires crossing the creek (best done right at the mouth) to a very nice campsite right on the river at the mouth. From here upriver to Stone/Galloway requires working up the cliffs via a worn path, and then ascending about 75’ of very good but exposed class 3 climbing, to a bench, then a vertical step of about 12’ (easy class 4, done with pack on) to another bench, then another 12’ step with a 3’ rock to stand on for a start. I have always pushed my pack ahead of me onto small ledges, with a low 5th class move right at the top (starts awkward but as one pulls into it everything just keeps feeling better), and a short climb on modest terrain gets one to a worn path on the plateau. I once followed this path into the Tapeats drainage for a ways, but stopped as it crossed a gully with clearly much more to walk before the path might descend to Tapeats creek

Back to the current trip, I find the crossing of the Tapeats creek I recall (easy crossing), and after a couple of tries, find the right layer and the sometimes vague path, which improves as I continue. As I mentioned the rock layers slope up to the river, an emerging shelf of Bass limestone, so the path rises. As I approach the river, it becomes clear that I’m going to connect with the path on the plateau, and sure enough, as I turn a corner, I come to the gully I had stopped at on its other side on the previous trip. A short hike more and there I am on the plateau above the river and the confluence of Tapeats creek. I see a group of people gathered below, obviously getting ready to pick up packs (almost certainly the group with the vans parked at Monument Pt trailhead). I watch as the group finally starts on the route along the river over to Deer Creek (a route I have taken on previous trips)

But my trip takes me the other way, to Stone/Galloway today, and eventually to the North Bass trail, a long way from here, full of lots of new terrain that I have never traveled. The excitement of adventure and the unknown stirs within me.

I’ve done this route twice before with modest success at finding the route, but did spend some time off “trail”; I decide to look carefully this time to see if I can keep to the “route”. Sure enough, with good route-finding attention to detail, I see all the places where the “route” goes up or down, places I have missed before, and soon the route turns into and descends into the Stone creek drainage. There is a waterfall below; one enters Stone above the falls, crosses the creek and descends a short distance before picking up a worn path on creek left that works its way through the basalt layers to eventually drop to the creek bed at river level, a bit short of the river. One can go back up the creek for a nice shower in the falls, or turn to the river and do the short hike over to Galloway, and a very nice campsite I’ve spent a few nights at, above the Duebendorff rapids, right at riverside, nicely shaded by a large tamarisk. I’m there by 1 pm.

As is the custom, clothes are quickly off, into the river for the bodily renewal, and the air dry in the sun. Back in the shade of the tammies, it’s cool enough to want a light fleece top (Oh the joy of being coolish in the Canyon!). I had seen a couple of river trips pass on by during my hike over from Tapeats, and figured that was all for the day. However around 5 I saw a bunch of rafts come around the corner upriver. They gathered briefly just upriver, out of my sight now, and finally approached my camp (which is certainly the nicest camp in the area). The group clearly wanted to stay there, but as I was enjoying my solitude, I passed subtle messages that maybe they’d like to go on down to the camp below the rapids, after all that’s where the good water from Stone creek is. After a brief scout (and a beer they kindly offered me), they ran the rapids and pulled in below. Since I was heading upriver to Bedrock and beyond, and had already gotten my water from Stone, I was never going to see them again.

April 2, Thurs
Up early again, there is easy walking along the river, and cliffs eventually forced me slightly higher. I’m still in the shade. A lesson about to be learned soon has me rolling down the slope, a missed step causes me to get too involved with a cactus. I pull much of the pointy stuff out, but will keep finding more during the trip, and even after I return home. The lesson?….pay more attention to where my foot is going next, and stop whenever I want to be absorbed by the incredible views. Descend back to the river and eventually descend a ramp into Bedrock. The exit back up is from a ramp by the river. In about a half mile come across the next drainage with good flowing water, so stopped for lunch. Steck calls this Switch Level Canyon, as one enters on the Bass and leaves (via a bit of climbing) on the Tonto. It’s clear that this drainage encompasses a lot of area, and thus in part explains why there is a lot of water flowing. As I have traveled this day (and the next), I can view the layers of rock I’m on mirrored on the other side of the river…the Bass descends, and so does the Tonto (eventually dropping me back to the river past Fossil canyon). A short but stiff climb to the plateau earns me easy travel toward 128-mile canyon, the goal for the day. Steck says the way into 128-mile canyon is via the first side canyon about 0.5 mile to the north. He describes a pour-off that looks formidable until one looks over it. So I descend what looks like the first side canyon, see the potentially formidable pour-off, laughingly expect to see the descent route as I approach, and instead see a LOT of air below. There is a small ledge about 6’ down, I think maybe one needs to traverse a bit before descending, start to climb down, decide maybe it’s better without a pack first. Now on the ledge, I only see much MORE air below me. This cannot be the right way. Sure enough, the next drainage looks more promising, dropping quite a bit through talus to another pour-off, which thankfully is an easy descent to 128-mile canyon, and nice flowing water.

Later that day I went down-canyon a bit to see where the first “airy” pour-off was. It took me a while to identify it from below, because I could not believe that the place it had to be was actually where I had climbed down. The ledge was small and severely overhung, could not believe I had done that.

The 128-mile canyon was wonderful. Nicely flowing water, several gallons a minute, but the real feature was the numerous bathtub or larger-sized pools that ran in series, and a romp both down to the river and up to where the water flowed out of the side of that drainage showed easily 100+ of these large pools, and many more smaller ones.

I had arrived by 2 pm, first order of business was shade and dipping pools. A short hike up-canyon (maybe 200’) brought me to a bend and serious shade and clean rock and my choice of delightful dipping pools. Into the water, then air dried in the shade, spent a couple hours just leaning back and enjoying the coolness. Eventually started looking for flat spots for camping. Both Steck and another writer whose trip report I had said flat was at a serious premium. I walked a long ways up and down canyon, finally deciding that a spot just across from where I had descended (and just next to the obvious steep exit) would be good enough with a little improvement, probably the exact same spot Steck and the other author had used.

This place has frogs. They started up in the late afternoon, and by dusk the party was really rolling, up and down the canyon. My experience is that usually these frogs stop a couple hours after dark, but the party rolled on. Finally at about 1 a.m. there was blessed silence. And then after about 3 minutes, the frog in the pool just below me started up again, and they all joined in, the party continued. Talk about party animals, they finally let up as daylight approached. Unusual sounding frogs, more like dogs and crows, rather than the usual sheep-like sounds.

April 3, Fri
Learned last night that my encounter with the cactus had also meant that my ThermaRest had met the cactus spines as well. A plunge in one of the pools located several holes. Planned too make repairs later, but it rained, so did not get to it.

This area was so interesting I decided to take an extra day and explore, both up and down the canyon. Up took me past numerous pools and finally to the source of the water, out the side of the canyon, buried in bushes. By now the canyon had opened up significantly, could have walked nearly to the redwall, but only went on a bit, finding traces of water again, before heading back, down to the river. Below camp required some modest climbing. Some flattish spots along the way, and at the mouth, but the spot that I had improved was about the best.

The geology here was very interesting. The descent gully was there because of a significant fault at this site. Lots of serious bending of layers, lots of sheared fault lines. The rocks on the bottom of the drainage were all upturned layers, thus the lack of flat spots for camping. More and more as I spend time in the Canyon, I see incredible evidence of all sorts of interesting geologic events.

It started getting cloudy by early afternoon, and windy, and after another dip in the pool I lazed about camp, actually seeking sun when I could. I was tired from all the partying the frogs had done the night before so crawled into the tent for a nap, wakened by stronger wind and rain. Back to sleep, woke again as dusk settled, rain and wind. Around 7 as dark was setting in seriously (cloudy/windy/rainy) the party frog in the pool just below me twice did a series of three chirps…thankfully there was no response and there was no partying that night. The early darkness and rain kept the frogs in for the evening. It was quite windy most of the night, and rainy too.

April 4, Sat
Cool this morning, but mostly clear. Fresh snow just below the rim of the Canyon. Ascended steeply back to the Tonto, which then slowly descended to the river, where it eventually disappeared, with easy benches for travel along the river. Came to an area that both trip authors said was distinctly unpleasant, and about 1 mile of unpleasant and hot travertine talus travel took me about two hours to get past it, I was rewarded with sandy beaches after that. Soon camped at a nice sandy/grassy bench just above high-tide line. It got cloudy again, and cool, and despite that, did the usual dip in the water, this time the cold river. A particularly large dark cloud came by just afterwards which brought cooler air, and it took me a long time to re-warm myself; I put on much of my clothing. Eventually the evening, and I, both re-warmed. Up until now, my water had come from side streams, and certainly when I had taken a dip in the river at Galloway, the River was very cloudy. Now that my water had to come from the river, I noticed that I could see rocks underwater, that the river had cleared significantly. Curiously the author of the second trip report told of the same thing happening to them at the same spot.

April 5, Sun
Very cool in morning. Being a Pacific Northwesterner, I really appreciate the coolness. I had roamed around the large sandy area the evening before, and today saw fresh beaver tracks all over the place. Travel today was on beaches, then rocky benches which slowly rose above the river.

Early in the day saw a crew from Hatch River Guides. Two years ago on a trip from Nankoweap to Unkar, I was unable to get farther down-river from Unkar, and since it was very hot, did not want to do the high route over to Clear Creek. Had noted a raft trip pull in above Unkar that late afternoon, so went back upriver to see if I could get a ride across the river to connect with the trail system on the south side of the river (to get eventually to the bridge so as to pass Phantom Ranch, ascend to the North Rim, and get pack to my car at the lower Saddle Mtn trailhead (by Saddle Canyon…not the one by Muav Saddle)). It was the a Hatch River guide shakedown trip; as I approached, Steve Hatch said “You look like you need a beer’ as he tossed me a cold one. After introducing myself, asked for ride across, which was quickly offered, and then Steve asked if I wanted to go now, or join them for dinner. Since it was late, and dinner sounded good (grilled fish, veggies, rice, dessert) it took me mere nanoseconds to make the choice to stay. Steve’s dad, Ted Hatch (well known among river folk) was on the trip, and also a guy who was the former owner of the Cliff House at Marble Canyon, who was rowing a metal dory. Great dinner, more beer, good company, a nicely cool night sleeping on the sandbar, and a ride across the next morning from the guy with the metal dory made my day and the trip.

I had heard from another river trip that I had just missed the Hatch folks last year, and now here they were again. Steve Hatch, the same guy with the metal dory. They cruised on by, but I did chat with a guy in a kayak for about 5 minutes before he and I both needed to get on, in opposite directions.

As I approached Blacktail canyon, the goal for the day, I saw a large motorized rig pulled in below Blacktail, doing lunch. I’m sure I offered a bit of entertainment as I picked my way down the cliffs/talus to get to the river just below them, although I’m sure the clients had no idea what I was doing or where I had come from. But the guides sure were excited to talk with me, wondering what I was doing so far from civilization and trails. When I told them I had come from Thunder River and Tapeats creek, a long way back, and was going out the North Bass trail, a long way ahead, it all made sense to them. As I mentioned, I’m sure I was entertaining but the clients had no sense of where I had been or was going. Only one spoke with me; she had noticed my Tacoma Public Library ballcap, and she had gone to the UPS Law School in Tacoma years ago. They had mostly finished lunch, but there was enough left for me to put together a decent sandwich. They gave me a couple beers as well. Life was good.

I took myself over across the drainage and found nice shaded camping. Into the river as is the usual practice, and since I had been out a week or so, I also washed my hair in the river. I then wandered up Blacktail, which very quickly narrows, and shear walls rise quite high above me, with little light getting down in the canyon. Nicely cool as a result. The place looked familiar, as I thought I saw the Great Unconformity, and later learned that indeed I had been here in 1998 while on a private river trip. The guy I rode with then was geologist and made a point of stopping here.

Took the time to make repairs on the ThermaRest later in the afternoon. I used to work for Carcade Designs, makers of the ThermaRest, did product development for them. My very first job assignment with Cascade was to replace the SeamGrip adhesive in the ThermaRest repair kit with an adhesive with no flammable solvents. Thus the reactive hotmelt adhesive that I had named HotBond. Who better to make repairs, eh??

A nicely quiet evening, beautiful colors on the river as sun set. Had the place to myself.
Life was indeed good.

April 6, Mon
Clearly missed a hole in the ThermaRest yesterday. But today’s plan is to head up-river a bit to retrieve a food cache left there in February by a river trip. In less than 1.5 hours I’m at the cache. Take a look at the ascent route back to the Tonto. One starts left, which is the hardest climbing, then traverse right on an easy bench to the other gully, which looks pretty modest. The first move looks like the hardest, but I’m up there having placed my pack up first. The rest looks OK as far as climbing, but not without a now full pack, and I cannot see ledges that I can use to put the pack up first. I don’t see a way of doing this safely, and since I’m alone and in the middle of nowhere, I decide that the best choice is to go back to Blacktail and head up from there. I’d rather take an extra 3 hours than risk injury.

It’s quite early, and the raft trips I saw yesterday were in the morning. I’m feeling lazy and so decide to go to a large sandbar just down-river and see if I can catch a ride. After about a half hour I try behavior that might bring a raft. Peeing? No raft. I know, the smoked cheese has developed some mold spots, I’ll open it up and clean it. Dig the cheese out, get the majority of the mold off, and just as I’m starting the fine clean-up, sure enough, a large raft comes down the rapid just up-river from me. Then another. They pull in just below the rapid, as if maybe doing lunch, but it’s only 11 a.m. So I pick up my stuff and start to head over; in a minute one of the rafts starts motoring over to the sandbar, so I turn around. It’s an NPS raft, I ask for a ride to Blacktail, and the ranger is OK with that. Gets me aboard, has me in a PFD right off, and as we motor back he asks to see my permit. Gets my name and writes notes in his notebook, that done we get on to pleasantries. It’s an NPS archeological trip, a whole bunch of archeologists are visiting a few sites where relics have been reported; they want to either save the relics, or secure them. They will be spending 3 days at Blacktail. We motor on down, I get invited to lunch. They have a cook on the trip!! I help them unload (they camp on river left just below the rapid, will “commute” across to the work). This puts their camp in the shade much day, good, since the heat is back. This is a deluxe trip. They all have cots. Lunch is great, especially for a backpacker in the middle of nowhere.

Load up the boats with gear, they are carrying lots of shovels and such and TWO wheelbarrows. Start across the river, maybe 100 yards, the raft loses power, more correctly, forward power. We spin around a bit in the eddy below the rapid, finally get the attention of the other boatman and boat, get pushed over to the south side. Some repairs made, start again, only to lose all power, need yet another rescue, this time it’s way more interesting as we almost get flushed down-river. Finally pushed up against south side again, tied off. Big time repair this time, apparently the connection from the control lever (forward/reverse) to the transmission is way off. Finally fixed again, we are off to the other side. I’m back at my shady campsite, planning on fixing my Thermarest (again), taking the day as rest, and getting an early start tomorrow. Water is somewhat sketchy between here and Hakatai canyon, so no use setting out late in day.

Many of the holes that I repaired on the ThermaRest were in pairs, the cactus needle went all the way through the mat, so holes in pairs, top and bottom. I missed a small hole that was part of a top/bottom pair. The pairs were in groups about 9 inches apart, I’m betting one turn of the rolled mat, probably only 2 cactus spines made all those holes. Make repair again, test for leaks, all looks good. We’ll see tonight. More lazing about camp, reading, resting, another dip in the river, another tour of Blacktail, chatting with the NPS geologists.

Late afternoon a river trip pulls above rapids. Some have canoes!!. Go over to visit. They are from the South and East, nice enough but not with that welcoming warmness that most western outdoors type folks show.

In the evening I check out the route up to the Tonto, a series of easy ledges about 100 yards up-river.

April 7, Tues
Success, repairs on ThermaRest were complete, no problems last night. Good news. I pack the pad inside pack from now on. Early start, get up to Tonto easily, it’s mostly benches with worn path. Eventually forced higher, but travel is generally easy. Water from here to Hakatai is less certain. Steck talks of Key Spring in Granite Gorge, but my other trip report from Fall 2002 said the spring was dry. There are reports of occasional places where one can down climb to the river. I quickly learn that the water situation is better than expected. Many of the side canyons have water pockets, some very large. First pocket was about a mile up-river (mile 119), then came to top of gully above the food cache (mile 118.5); nice flat rock areas to camp and several deep water tanks, could easily have immersed myself (along with many others). Another very large pocket in about half mile (just south of mile 118); it’s shaded and huge, big enough to hold perhaps 10-15 people as a soaking tub.

As Steck mentions, the Tonto rises in two steps as one goes south from Blacktail – the Monument Fold. I can see this mirrored on the wall of other side of the river. Travel gets slightly more difficult, and as I turn the corner south and west of Explorer’s Monument, I see Elves Chasm below; I’ve been there twice before, on my two river trips. There’s a crowd there already and as I watch two more trips pull in, one needing to pull in below the rapid and walk back. So crowded down there, so solitary and isolated up here. It’s getting hotter and I seek the shade of a large rock for a break. I work easterly now, sometimes finding worn paths (Steck calls these “burro paths”, I wonder if they in fact are, or just the result of the passage of people like me). Come to the Monument fault ravine, wander up to look for water (none) but plenty of good shade. I rest from about 2-4 p.m.; it’s hot. I hear voices, sometimes sound quite close, sound like climbers. I look around, see no one. Finally one says “up rope” quite distinctly, so I head down the fault/drainage to look. Just before a pour-off I find first a small, then a medium size pocket of water, the lower one fairly clean. This makes my day; I can pack up plenty of water, wait till the sun goes down a bit, and head on over to see if Key Spring is running. Never do see anyone, but later in the evening, looking at the map, I note that the 20’ rappel on the Royal Arch route on the other side of the river is just across across the river from the pour-off. I had also seen a group of people camped just up-river from there as I got going after the break from the heat.

From the fault, first east then turn the corner heading north now. I thankfully head into shade as late afternoon passes to early evening. I’m looking for flat spots, and hopefully water. Several minor drainages are dry, including one that I think Key Spring used to flow in; no water here. Finally come to a small drainage with water pockets (just north of mile114), one big enough to get into. That’s right, a quick dip in the lower, larger one makes my day complete. It feels so good to slip into the sleeping bag with a clean, sweat and dirt-free body. It’s getting on toward evening as I set up camp and nibble on dinner. First mosquitoes on trip!! And plenty of water for tomorrow.

April 8, Weds
Up early, travel is easy here, come across a bit of barely flowing water (just south of mile 113), just above route, which collects in a very small pool and then fades into the ground. More water pockets along way (one very large just north of mile 113) in the side canyons, at least one of which Steck says provides easy access to the river. Finally to Walthernberg canyon. It’s every bit as tedious as both trip reports say it is. There’s some small water pockets just past where one finally crosses the drainage, and the way back to the river is a bit shorter and easier.

Finally above Hakatai. I see flowing water below, and start searching for the way down. I keep heading along the cliffs above the drainage finding no way down. Now looking without my pack, I finally climb down to a place where, if I can get down the 20-30’ to a talus slope, it’s easy all the way down. It’s a vertical crack-like chimney. Perhaps if I lower my pack I can downclimb? I get to the point where I have my pack there with the rope out. Too scary. I climb back up, pull out both route descriptions and re-read carefully, hoping to find some key piece of information I have missed. I eventually read from the 2002 trip report (thanks Mike!!) “The route to the bottom was an old trail that began on a ramp just downstream from the mouth (italics mine) of the canyon”. I see now…hopefully I have been looking in the wrong place. It is getting late, I do need to get to water (the last water is back about an hour) and I do need to get down to proceed. I return to the river, look downstream and there is a small drainage that heads to the river. Dropping my pack, I explore and as I come to the edge, I’m on a well-worn path, heading down, first east, then north. I follow it enough to assure that it just keeps going down. I return and get my pack and quite nicely descend into Hakatai, arrive just across from the obvious ascent gully, and right to a nice campsite next to a large rock, just above the creek bed. No water right here, but a short walk downstream has water flowing in the gravel. No dipping pools here, but small pools that I can fill water containers in and pour over myself. Close enough. Sometime here I notice that I’ve injured my ankle. It’s a bit of a climb down past a huge rock in the streambed to get to the flowing water I saw from above (and to the river), so I decide to stay here. And take a rest day tomorrow.

April 9, Thurs
Rest day. I find that so long as I’m wearing my boots, I can walk with no pain. That’s good as it’s a long way out. Readiing, resting, eating, sleeping.

April 10, Fri
It’s almost 1000’ up the gully to get back to the plateau. Took 2 hours. Included a 25’ climb past a pour-off. The very last move is the hardest and most exposed, past a slight overhang. I trailed a rope and then dragged the pack up. Now pretty easy travel to Burro canyon, the key in Steck’s directions, “…down a small ramp under a cliff and along a wide place between the 3360 and 3440 contours about 0.7 mile southeast of Fan Island”. No water where I cross Burro then up and over a shoulder to views of Shimuno Creek complete with water to rival Tapeats creek, cottonwoods, and a TRAIL. I had wondered if I might see people. On a rest day camped at Bass rapids, people do hike over to the old Bass Historic site. Sure enough I as I am working my way over and then down, see a group of 5-6 people. As I get to the creek I’m on a trail and the people are trying to cross at that same point. Too difficult for some, they turn around, find an easier crossing, we meet up at a place where we need to cross back. It’s incredible traveling on a trail….so easy. We finally gather at the Bass Historic Site. The group is a private trip, mostly from WA, Bellinham and E. WA. We’re practically neighbors. They head on, I’m slower with pack. Eventually meet up with a group from AZ River Runners, a guide try-out trip. I work my way slowly up Shimumo, several crossings, eventually end on the north side, come to a large flat area, has been used for camping, complete with makeshift benches. I’m tired, it’s time to stop. Into Shinumo for clean-up. It’s cloudy, I decide to set up the tent. Sure enough it starts raining around 10 pm.

April 11, Sat
It’s overcast but dry in the morning. It’s not entirely clear which I go from here. A bit of mapwork and exploration last night had me convinced that I needed to go upstream a bit more before turning north up White creek, bypassing a dry gully that headed north just past the camp area, despite a large rock cairn up the gully. This morning I walked past that gully, went perhaps 200’ on a worn path, and then decided that the gully was correct after all. In any case it did take me up to an eventual connection with Bass’s old trail. I could see remnants of the old trail, which went over to Hakatai. My path is now well traveled, and the valley opens up, travel is easy on wide open land. Eventually I join White creek, and travel generally right in the drainage. Cairns usually mark the turns, but one place at a junction with a campsite, I missed a turn, instead followed the other drainage, which looked pretty good, was about ¼ mile of flat rocky walking, like an 8 foot wide sidewalk, before I started questioning my choice….no cairns. Went back to campsite, spotted a small cairn in the other direction, made large cairn improvements to make turn more obvious. It was raining lightly some of the morning. Walked along or in the creek, saw campsite now and again. Finally came to a place where I left the drainage and started working my way up through the Redwall. The terrain above looked like there might be the possibility of overhangs. It’s 2 pm, I’m tired, it’s a bit wet, I hope to find a flat spot under a dry overhang to stop for the day. There is a nice flat spot perched on a minor ridge just feet off the trail, an excellent campsite with views everywhere, but out in the open, no overhang. I want someplace where I can hang out in dryness. Minutes later, just past a benchmark at 4571’, I spy an overhang about 200’ off the trail. Dropping the pack, I check it out. Sure enough, someone has improved the site a bit, and with minimal work, it fits my little tent. Bring the pack back, set up tent without fly (it’s going to be cold tonight), laze about reading, then napping, get wakened by hail hitting the edge of the tent, so on with the fly on the outside of the ledge, back to napping. Later go back down for water….no dipping tonight, it’s cold. During the afternoon it rains, hails, snows. I watch from my dry perch. Life is pretty good. It’s much colder tonight, pulled the fly mostly over the tent for warmth.

This is the 7th anniversary of my having arranged to get laid-off from my last employment, and the beginning of my venture into self-employment. It’s been a great 7 years. I have often celebrated this anniversary here in the Canyon. Life is good.

April 12, Sun
It was cold last night, fresh snow up higher, but sky is clearing, it’s going to be a great day. Finished the ascent of the Redwall, drop back into the drainage at times, finally one last bit of drainage to 5692’ benchmark (aka 5697’ or 5691’) that marks the place where the trail leaves the drainage for good. Steck says to carefully look for this place. I figured the nicely built set of stone steps leaving the drainage to the right was also a good sign I was in the right place. There is a cool breeze, mostly sunny as I ascend to Muav saddle. Right near the saddle see the remains of a small stone structure I think must be Teddy’s cabin (wrong) and the spring a few feet farther. Now at the saddle, I go up a bit to find flat ground, and seeing none, look down to see a very nicely built cabin, yes, Teddy’s cabin after all. It has two rooms, windows, good floor and roof, and the tightness of the construction tells me that the usual critters one finds in such cabins are not able to get in if the door is closed properly. Back to the spring for water and pouring bottles of water over myself, I spend a delightful afternoon eating, reading the logbook/register from the cabin, staring into space. It’s cool and breezy but warm in the sun. I sit outside, in the sun, leaned against one of the posts holding up the rim beams of the cabin. It’s been a great trip, full of adventure. I feel privileged to have been able to experience it all. As darkness approaches, I hang out side for a while, but the coolness and the plan to be up early soon have me in the bag. A critter makes attempts to enter, scratching first from the ceiling, then from near the floor, but eventually gives up and goes elsewhere. The cabin is critter tight.

My original plan was to drop off Muav saddle back to the esplanade and head north, ascending near Crazy Jug Pt. But the idea of having to ascend more at the end loses appeal with the bad ankle, and so I have looked at the road system and have decided that although the road walking is longer, it’s flat and will require little routefinding and could even be done in the dark if need be.

April 13, Mon
Start just as light approaches, up to the trailhead in 45 minutes. See fresh cat and bison tracks on the trail. It’s easy walking until the road gets higher and snow covers the road. It’s about 6-7 miles east to where the road turns north for another 2-3 mile. Snow covers more of the road. As I get to the point where I need to turn west, things turn bad and I won’t even know that they have for at least 3 more hours. I see what I’m sure are fresh quadrunner tracks in the snow, and look at the map tells me that they can only come from where I want to go. And (I learn later) my old map does not correctly show the key road that I need to travel on has literally been moved. So I spend 3+ more hours merrily ignoring the fact that all of a sudden, the reality does not match with the map. Finally I come to a fence with an NPS sign for a camp area, seems add but the road continues, and in about ¾ mile the road ends at the edge of the canyon. Quick map work and looking at the terrain tells me that that’s Steamboat Mtn across from me and I’m at Fire Point. After 9 hours and 16-18 miles of travel, I am now 1.5 miles away from where I started this morning. While the quadrunner tracks disappeared with the snow a while ago, there are tracks in the dirt. Were those tracks in the snow actually from last fall that are now melting out? Do tracks in the dirt still look quite fresh after being covered with snow all winter?

It’s 3:30, I know from the weather radio last night that a storm is coming in tomorrow, and I’m still a very long way from my car. And my food is running out. I turn and start walking back in frustration as it’s the only thing to do. Thoughts of little food, storm, needing to be rescued, all pass by. Soon I stomp out my name and an arrow in the snow, pointing back east in case it gets to a search. As I walk I think and look at the map. Now knowing where I am, the road I want can be gotten to by walking back 5-6 miles and then a short ¼ mile cross-country descent. I realize that I can make things right, I can at least be on the right road, before dark. I plod on and keep thinking and looking at the map (oh, right, NOW he thinks AND looks at the map). In about 2.5 hours I’m close to where I want to head off-road…the terrain matches the map. The descent is on a north-facing slope, deep snow, to the valley below. I cannot actually see the road, but it sure looks like there ought to be one there. Down to the drainage, I climb back up a few feet and sure enough, there’s the road. It’s about 6:30 now. I walk on past Quaking Aspen spring, and stop where the road turns north and up. A quick “dinner” brings me to near darkness; I (unwisely) decide to walk a bit more, the road is steep, snow choked, the long day coupled with the uphill has my ankle complaining loudly. Finally the terrain levels in about ¼ mile, tent up, in the bag. It’s been a hard day, and I’m tired. But I’m pleased that I have turned a potentially serious situation into something workable. I’m now on the right road and only 12-14 miles from the car. Quiet night.

April 14, Tues
Up early start hiking at first light, and very quickly note that the terrain matches the map. Roads come and go as expected. The sky is overcast but not threatening. The sun filters through the clouds now and then. Life is good. Food is short, and around 9 find part of a Clif bar I had forgotten about. Breakfast after all!! The travel finally gets easy as the rest of the snow disappears. Just keep on hiking and paying attention to the terrain and map. Around 11:30 come to the junction with the 425 road, the road my car is on, and about 45 minutes later, there is the car. It’s good to be back, and yet there is a sadness that the adventure has ended. This truly was a GREAT trip, the best hiking trip ever in the GC, and one of my best hiking trips of all time.

On the drive out to Fredonia, listening to NPR, Terry Gross interviewing Drew Barrymore (was a great interview by the way), I see many deer, wild turkeys and TWO bobcats or lynx run across the road, one stops and looks back at me before running on. That image is burned into my memory.

Life is Good

Showered at the campground by Pipespring NM, started driving around 2 or 3. The storm came in later in the evening, made it all the way to southern Idaho before stopping at the first rest area in Idaho. Lots of snow in the morning, but warming, had much more snow (plows, icy roads, 50 mph only for a while) and when the snow disappeared, the headwind started. At times I could not get up to 55 mph against the wind. Home in Tacoma by 7 pm.

Tom
May 2009

[desertgirl]

Tom -- Great trip report. Pictures ?
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Photos: http://www.pbase.com/desertgirl/galleries
Life is but a dream ...there is no end to what you can dream!

[tshimko]

pics will come as soon as I get a computer that can handle them, and I learn how to post them....remember I'm still a virgin here

pics are good though, I have seen them

maybe in a week

[mikehikes]

Hey Tom.

Great to see your trip report. It had been busy couple weeks for me so I hadn't gotten around to answering your email with additional questions about this area. Then my just younger sister suddenly died of a heart attack on the eleventh. I have been in Chapel Hill NC since helping her 21-year-old son get through this. I'm flying home tomorrow.
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Mike Coltrin
Tucson