I am accompanied by the Brothers Steiner (hereafter referred to as BS1 and BS2, or as the BSers) and right from the start I can tell I may be spending much of my slower hiking time alone as they speed down the trail.  We begin our trek mid-morning to the frequent serenades of a canyon wren.  BS1 has the canyon wren ringtone and instinctively reaches for his cell phone.

We rest briefly at Stegosaurus Rock and then continue to the Redwall camp for lunch and to cache some water for our return.  BS1 spots a mountain short-horned lizard.  Two hikers on their way out stop to chat and take a break, turns out they are fellow Canyon nuts and four of us graduated from the same high school.

Below the Redwall things start to warm up a little.  It doesn’t matter how many times I descend Tanner, my least favorite section is always the never ending Dox traverse.  It’s just a steep, awkward slope with no shade and no good place to rest, but at least the scenery can’t get any better.

When the trail finally hits Canyon bottom to cross Tanner Wash I just detour down the wash and shortcut my way into camp ahead of the BSers.

The River is quite muddy and we have no luck fishing.  Strong winds make us contemplate moving camp east of the wash to more sheltered sites, but we choose to remain closer to The River.

At some point during the night I realize that inside my rain jacket pocket is part of an old unwrapped forgotten granola bar from some past trip.  I’m half asleep, my food is all packed up safe from varmints, the rain jacket is my pillow, and I don’t want critters poking around my head, so I just set the granola bar aside, by first light it is gone.

Day 2 – Tanner Beach to Palisades Creek:

Awake to an amazing display of sunrise cloud colors.  BS2 discovers that mice have raided some of his food he accidentally left out.  Today is a short hike, sort of a recovery day, so we leisurely pack up camp, chat with some hikers just arriving, then head north on the Beamer Trail.

There is a short climb to negotiate some cliffs immediately upon departing Tanner Beach.  Back on the sandy flats south of Comanche Creek, BS1 spots a striped whipsnake.  We take the low route past the island north of Espejo Creek again, so I still have no idea what the high route is like.

I find the Palisades beach camp I used about 18 months ago but there is one small problem – it’s under water.  That’s a shame it was a nice little beach, but there’s still enough room for camp in the tammies a little further from shore.

We spend some time alternately fishing and hiding in the shade.  Even with all this River silt I’m a little surprised the fishing gods are skunking us, especially considering how great this fishing hole was last time I passed through.

A monstrous commercial motor rig comes barreling down The River.  I’m not sure any of the passengers expected to see a full moon at Palisades during the middle of the day.

Last night I barely needed my sleeping bag.  Tonight is cold and windy, I use my rain fly as another blanket layer for wind shelter.

Day 3 – Palisades Creek to beach camp south of Little Colorado River confluence:

BS1 asks what I’ve been doing to protect my food from critters overnight.  I tell him I just sleep with my arm over it, kind of like sleeping with my old lady at home, except my food bag doesn’t elbow, kick, and steal the covers.

Continuing north on Beamer, cliffs force the trail up onto the Tonto platform.  More River rats float by below us.  After maybe a mile of hiking from Palisades we encounter the section of trail that has earned Beamer something of a bad reputation, at least with some.  Across from Carbon Canyon there is perhaps a 50 meter stretch where the narrow trail skirts dangerously close to towering cliffs.  I know people who hike this like it’s no big deal without any fear of the exposure, but a mistake here could be fatal.  I concentrate on tunnel visioning the trail but it’s hard to pretend there isn’t a deadly drop immediately to my left.

We all make it safe and sound to the next drainage north where the Beamer Trail splits yet again.  We take the high route this time, assuming it avoids further exposure lower down.  The two routes converge after a short distance where the Beamer Trail becomes a poor man’s Tonto Trail, contouring in and out of countless minor drainages.  We stop for a lunch break across from Temple Butte as more River rats float beneath us.

As we finally approach the Little Colorado River confluence yet even more River rats are swarming the waters.  I have never seen this many people (boaters or otherwise) in The Canyon outside of the corridor.

One of the boats is tied up at our beach camp south of the confluence.  Time to stroll over and see what’s going on.  After wading through the academic jargon, I learn many of these boats are teams of scientists surveying and mapping The River bottom.  They even have a little motorboat that is ferrying people and supplies up and down and back and forth all over The River.

Despite all the commotion we make the best of camp and siesta in the shade.  The fishing gods are still pitching a shutout.  I am starting to believe that the trout eradication measures taken by the Park Service to protect the endangered humpback chub are actually working!  Or at least that’s what I’m willing to blame our bad luck on.

Day 4 – Day hike up the Little Colorado River gorge:

We are all happy to be trekking sans heavy packs for our day-hike up the Little Colorado River.  At the confluence there is a stark contrast between the greenish River and muddy brown LCR.  These waters clearly do not mix well.

In under an hour we’re at the Beamer cabin.  This prospector dwelling was built into the base of an overhanging Tapeats cliff over a hundred years ago.  The cabin is still in great shape with some interesting relics inside, but there’s also pack rat shit everywhere so we don’t linger long.  These ledges were certainly occupied by Anasazi as well, but the artifacts have been mostly picked clean.

We make it another few miles further up the LCR gorge then stop for a snack.  Before continuing I start doing the math in my head.  It’s midday, hot, my foot is hurting some, and if I want to make it all the way to our intended destination and back to camp I will have to hike almost 7 miles on 1 quart of water (I would prefer to only drink LCR water as a last resort).

With some regret I decide to call it a day here while the BSers continue ahead.  They eventually cross the LCR and make it to our goal for the day-hike.  On their return BS2 takes a nasty spill and gets some fairly severe cuts on his leg.

On my way back I try staying closer to the LCR, which leads to some bushwacking here and there, eventually stumbling upon some more scientific equipment I’m assuming is used for humpback chub research.  Back at the confluence I encounter a hiking couple looking for a way to cross the LCR and The River.  They are doing Grandview to Nankoweap, an ambitious hike for most, but even more impressive when I learn they are on about week 7 of their through hike along the Arizona Trail!  What an adventure.

Back in camp the fishing gods continue their shutout, in fact at this point they are working on a no-hitter.

Day 5 – Beach camp south of Little Colorado River confluence to Comanche Creek:

For a couple days now BS1 has been teasing us that he will hitchhike on the 1^st boat back to Palisades.  Only minutes after we ascend from our beach camp more River rats float by, they appear to have plenty of room for all of us.  Too late now.

Cloudy skies bless the hike back down Beamer, a welcome relief from some hot temps of the last 2 days.  We opt for the high route again where the trail splits.  Interestingly, there is a small rock barricade discouraging southerly travel on the low route, but there was/is no such barricade at the trail split coming from the opposite way.

The BSers have waited for me back at the exposed section of trail.  They proceed as a terrible wind whips across the exposed trail, forcing the BSers to lean down towards the uphill “safe” side of the trail.  The wind relents briefly, BSers continue around the bend out of sight, then yet another brutal gust of April wind threatens our balance.  Within seconds the BSers are hustling back towards me.  Apparently BS1 asked BS2 how things were looking, the wind came blasting through again, and he said “we need to turn around…now.”

In anticipation of any wind today, I had eyeballed a route to bypass this tricky section back on day 3, so that’s what we decide to do.  The bypass is easy and safe, we simply go up and over the ridge immediately east of the exposed section.  Parts of this bypass route are cairned so we obviously aren’t the first to avoid that sketchy stretch.

We stop at Palisades to retrieve a food cache and have lunch, then continue down to the Comanche Creek area where we find a nice beach camp.  A storm has been following and threatening us all day, so BS2 sets up his tent.  I only have my rainfly and am quite thankful he had extra stakes, the fly would just not hold up in the wind without being anchored.

Figuring it’s our last chance we try our luck fishing again.  Within minutes it is raining steadily.  So I guess it’s official, the fishing gods went from shutout to no-hitter to pitching a perfect game.

The science boaters are all over the place again.  The motorboat cruises up River then slows and beckons us over to shore.  I walk down and he just wants to apologize for any inconvenience they’ve been imposing on our wilderness experience.  I tell him it’s no problem, then he asks if there’s anything we need.  This is my chance.  I tell him if he can scare up a few cold beers that would be great.  He says he’ll be passing by the kitchen and he’ll see what he can do, then motors off again.

The wait seems forever and of course it starts raining harder.  BS2 jumps in his tent to stay dry, I would do the same but for my fear of missing the beer boat.  Standing there drenched I get to thinking.  Why on Earth did I say “cold” beer?  At this point we could care less what temperature the beer is as long as we have some.

I hear a faint motor through the rain.  My heart skips a beat.  The beer boat is returning.  BS1 asks me to check if the boater will take out his backpacking detritus so I grab his trash bag and hustle down to the boat.  This is a historical Yermo moment.  I am handing a River rat a bag of trash and in return he hands me a bag of beers!  I know of no other place where such a transaction would be considered normal.

We enjoy our frothy beverages with a hearty cheers.  Warm PBR never tasted better.  The rain eventually chases us back to our shelters, where I cook up a meal and finish the beer.  The storm remains fairly intense throughout most of the night.

Day 6 – Comanche Creek to upper Tanner Canyon:

At first light I peek my head out the rainfly, the sky is mostly clear.  A relief for sure, I hate packing up in the rain.  Also, last night we discussed hiking all the way out today if it was still stormy, but we seem to have scored one more night in The Canyon.

Apparently I fared the driest.  The BSers squeezed into that little tent, which proved to be something far less than waterproof, and awoke drenched.  Any sleep they did get was in puddles of water.

We give the sun a chance to dry us out some and then hit the trail back to Tanner Beach to pump plenty of water for our dry camp tonight.  It seems some jackass brought their dog down here since we left as there are tracks everywhere.

Before departing we see 2 seagulls (yes, seagulls, I have never seen them in The Canyon before and suspect they are making their way up from the Lake Havasu area?) soaring low over The River.  Heading back up Tanner there has been an explosion of blooming wildflowers since we passed through 5 days ago.

Above the Tapeats boulder field a large group passes by on their way down.  Mostly youngtsers, a few of them seem beat up and perhaps ill prepared (i.e. jeans, behemoth packs, and dog-tired faces).  We skip the Redwall camp, sacrificing those views for more wind shelter in the small bay northeast of Cardenas Butte.

After we get settled and hide out some minor rain sprinkles, a Ranger strolls into camp.  In dozens of trips outside the corridor this is the first time I have ever been checked for permit legitimacy.  We chat for awhile and she tells us a Canadian couple got ticketed at the rim for bringing that dog down.  She also encountered that large group we saw earlier and said they were mostly beat up from the hike and had to change their aggressive itinerary.

I run out of stove fuel exactly after cooking my last dinner, and I would love to take credit for planning on being that lucky.  BS1 decides to try sleeping under a boulder overhang, it only takes a couple pack rat runs across his body to move his sleeping pad up closer to us.

Day 7 – Upper Tanner Canyon to Lipan Point:

On our way out it starts snowing above 75-mile saddle.  This is starting to feel like more than coincidence perhaps, but every time I have ascended Tanner it has been snowing.  Not sure if the BSers were taking it easy on me but the trek out only takes about 2 hours and I’m at the rim right behind them.

To see more photos from this trip click here.

To see more about BS1 and his wanderings through Arizona click here.

To see the trip report for these photos click here.

To read the trip report from these photos click here.

A real pain in the back.

This is my first return to Tanner Trail, the beginning of my original backpack in The Canyon, over five years ago. This time I’m traveling with D.K. and Buster. If I’m honest, I reluctantly start this hike with concerns about a pinched nerve in my lower back.

We quickly switch-back our way below the saddle at 75-Mile Canyon to a good water cache spot below Escalante Butte where we stop for lunch. During the Redwall descent, Buster is slowed by shaky knees. This is a common condition in The Canyon, where every downward step is jittery from bracing against the weight of a pack, and it can be especially difficult for rookies such as Buster. He stumbles a few times, cutting his hand in the process, and starts slowing way down as The Canyon pounds yet another first-timer.

For the duration of the hike down D.K. is well in the lead while I’m a few steps behind Buster, trying to motivate a faster pace and fewer breaks. By the time we hit the bed of Tanner we’ve been hiking for six hours, and the prolonged weight on my back has seriously inflamed my pinched nerve. The only way I’m semi-painless is hunched over a bit and I probably look like Quasimodo right now. My hope is that an extended cocktail hour will help ease the pain.

Day 2 – Layover at Tanner Beach:

Back out on Beamer.

Slept shitty and wake up with ridiculous back pain. Any chance now at making it to the Little Colorado River confluence is out of the question. Buster is beat up from yesterday as well, so it’s the smart group choice to change our plan. That sucks but we’re all still happy to be down here.

D.K. and Buster are off to fish up River while I struggle to wake up in any sort of painless fashion. They stop a quarter mile away where cliff walls prevent further passage at River level. Shooting pains in my back, like repeated knife stabbings, allow me the ability to cover that distance in the lightning quick time of thirty minutes, only stopping to keel over in pain every ten steps or so. We fish the morning with no luck and return to base camp for lunch.

Buster and D.K. go down River in the afternoon while I nap. A solitary goose honking on its flight overhead wakes me feeling a little better, then I meet up with them returning from a half mile away; along the way notice some pottery shards. After returning to camp the weather turns quite cold after sundown. Heavy gusts mixed with some scattered showers prevail through the night.

Day 3 – Dayhike from Tanner Beach to Comanche Creek:

Canyon wildlife abounds on an unsuccessful Comanche raid.

Our limited view of the South Rim reveals fresh snow this morning. Buster made a Canyon rookie mistake last night. His backpack was hanging in a tree, but some of the food was in an open compartment. It appears mice have enjoyed much of his favorite candy bar.

Our goal today is to day-hike the Beamer Trail in search of more promising fishing grounds. We trek up River to the beach at Comanche Creek. Even that short section of the trail has a little exposure worth mentioning, one slip or slide at the wrong place could send you flailing down into the River a couple hundred feet below. I try not to look down too much and fail.

Today is a good day for Canyon wildlife sightings. D.K. spooks a single mule deer out of a mesquite thicket. There is a pair of mallards lounging in an eddy, and watching us nervously. A California condor soars overhead. Despite our efforts, the only angling action we get is one rainbow trout chasing my spinner.

Day 4 – Tanner Beach to upper Tanner Canyon:

Backpacking in a winter Canyonland.

Time to climb at least halfway out, thankfully my back is feeling better. Win the psychological battle. Don’t think about the entire length, just put one foot in front of the other; look to the next switchback instead of the heights above.

We make it to below the Redwall ascent with intermittent snow flurries in our now regular trekking order: D.K. staying five to ten minutes ahead of us while I am constantly pushing at Buster’s heels. Have a short lunch and then crank out the climb in good time.

While approaching our intended camp and the water cache between Escalante and Cardenas Buttes, the snow continues falling with greater density. Our site is a flat clearing next to a very large boulder, underneath which is a cave-like depression just big enough for two small tents, or three dudes and their gear.

While Buster and D.K. are deciding how to arrange their tents in there I quickly set mine further away under the welcome shelter of a large juniper tree. They end up setting tents next to mine, somewhat exposed to the snow but out from underneath the slight danger of a crumbling boulder; beneath which was the added nuisance of pack rat shit everywhere.

D.K. and Buster remain in their tents trying to dry clothing and stay warm while I huddle underneath the boulder. The snowstorm doesn’t appear to be letting up anytime soon, and I’m getting cold. Amongst the pack rat detritus there is some dry timber and it’s tempting to build a small fire. The presence of charcoal indicates someone recently acted on that temptation.

After dinner Buster bolts for the warmth of his tent (not to emerge for fourteen consecutive hours). D.K. generously assists me in consuming the rest of our whiskey supply. I luck out on a dumb-ass move, my tent door has been open for nearly three hours, but thankfully the juniper kept most of the snow out.

Day 5 – Upper Tanner Canyon to Lipan Point:

“Where’s the ski lift?”

Wake up and it’s still snowing. Buster and D.K. get stirring early; coffee does the meanest things to people. I’m fortunate my dozen odd vices don’t include the coffee bean. I convince D.K. to bring me hot water for oatmeal in bed, and don’t leave my tent until I’m packed and ready to go.

There is some significant snow accumulation that slows our ascent. We are the first people to cut the trail this morning and some sections have snowdrifts over a foot high. Above the 75-Mile saddle there are a few places where the snow is so evenly distributed we are forced to take extra time making sure of the right track. Reaching Lipan Point feels like completing an epic winter trek. On the drive home a javelina crosses Desert View Drive right in front of us.

To see more photos from this trip click here.

“A Beginners Introduction to The Canyon” or “A New Way to Enjoy Kicking Your Own Ass.”

My first Canyon backpacking trip. Ricky from Chicago, an NAU friend, invites me on this spring break trip after we had done some backpacking in the Sedona area previously. I owe him a debt of gratitude for lighting the original fire under my Canyon loving ass. His friends Dan and Jeff come along, and I invite King Tut also to round out our crew.

We hit Tanner Trail late morning. Keeping my telescopic rod fastened outside of the pack is a mistake. The limited remainder of fishing line gets hopelessly tangled about the reel, officially ending any hopes for a supplemental trout meal on this trek.

Like any Canyon rookie I underestimate the physical challenge and have no experience to understand the psychological battle of Canyon hiking. So naturally the hike kicks my butt. King Tut and I show up last at Tanner Beach, after sunset, completely worn out.

Ricky has decided that we shall cook group meals for the trip, so King Tut and I have tonight’s shift. I cook red beans, rice, and sausage for everyone. Unfortunately Ricky neglected to mention Jeff’s a vegan, so there’s extra food for the rest of us.

Day 2 – Tanner Beach to 75-Mile Canyon:

Escalante Route – A Spanish phrase roughly translating to, “a damn long hike, fraught with near mishap, and flash flood fears.”

Wake up early and sore, we have a long day ahead of us along the Escalante Route. We put some morning miles behind us and then take a short break across The River from Furnace Flats to admire the view. The trek resumes as intermittent rain falls and we contour above the drainage west of Cardenas Creek. In the traverse around Escalante Creek our route choice is probably a mistake and there are some sketchy talus slopes to negotiate. An idea for lunch break to regroup is seconded by all.

Apparently there is a steep shortcut down to Neville Rapids, but we end up on the high route at the crossing of 75-Mile Canyon, just south of The River. At this point we’re all tired and have covered about ten miles. Our correct path lies down this slot canyon, and is cairned. But the high route also continues west around the point. There is a discussion about which way to go.

Ricky is the trip leader and only hiker in our group with Canyon experience. He decides we should stay on the upper route instead of going down 75-Mile Canyon. Dan and Jeff are the strongest hikers in our group, and eager to get into camp so they move on while Ricky and I wait for King Tut. When we finally round the point towards Papago Creek it is getting dark. Dan and Jeff are way ahead of us and gaining significant elevation. This can’t be right.

There is a photocopied description of the route Ricky got somewhere, so I stop him to take a look. Given the length of our hiking day, and based on the blurry map and route description, I believe we have just passed 75-Mile Canyon and our access to The River. I convince Ricky I’m right and we yell out for Dan and Jeff to come back. Luckily they are still barely within earshot and return.

Back at the crossing of 75-Mile Canyon it is now dark and we have another decision to make. There is a down-climb to a narrow depression with just enough room for two tents. We should probably make sure this side canyon deposits us at The River, but we do have plenty of water still to make camp. It’s put to a vote and the tired guys win out, we’re staying here. Dan and Jeff are probably right about continuing, but the prospect of navigating this slot canyon with only a couple flashlights is not inviting.

During the night it starts raining hard. Ricky has been sleeping outside, and suddenly barges into the tent, forcing King Tut and I to the sides where the water is actually puddling. I am cold and wet all night. Choosing this camp was a stupid decision; if this slot canyon flashes we will be shit out of luck.

Day 3 – 75 Mile Canyon to Horseshoe Mesa:

Vishnu preserved & a near recipe for hypothermia.

Ricky has a talent for pointing out the blatantly obvious. Everything is damp or wet, and we’re on limited sleep, trudging around packing up when he says to me, “Hey, your tent isn’t waterproof.” Brilliant deduction considering our drenched state.

There is one more down-climb where we lower packs before reaching The River at Neville Rapids. Thankfully my gut instinct proved out, we are on the correct route. Our first view of the South Rim today reveals a blanket of fresh snow. It’s still cloudy, but not rainy, so we set out some things to dry and pump water.

At Papago Creek we encounter a group of River rats taking a day hike. They tell us we are doing The Canyon the hard way. Easy for them to say. On the west side of Papago Creek there are a series of ledges that require some focus climbing. At Hance Rapids we link up with the Tonto Trail, and continue west; taking the upper bypass to avoid the ledge into Mineral Canyon. We take a long break next to Hance Creek.

Probably a little too long. As we fill up water for the final time at Page Spring, the last rays of sunlight frame Vishnu Temple in a perfect silhouette.

We will not make it atop Horseshoe Mesa before darkness. Ricky takes a wrong turn and we are scrambling on all fours up a steep talus slope for a hundred feet. It’s slippery as hell and I burn a lot of energy fighting gravity until we link back up with the trail. We tighten up our formation, with flashlights at the front and rear, and struggle up the remaining Redwall ascent until we make camp on top of Horseshoe Mesa.

Now I learn an important rookie Canyon lesson. All of my warm clothing is sweat drenched and I have no beanie. The temperature is below freezing and I cannot stop shivering. I am so cold that I wrap my head in Ricky’s spare long johns, skip dinner completely, and jump in the sleeping bag to warm up until I finally tremble asleep.

Day 4 – Horseshoe Mesa to Grandview Point:

May the snow angels lift thee up.

I wake up surprisingly refreshed after that minor flirtation with hypothermia last night. Just don’t forget to bring a beanie on winter trips. There is a lot of snow on the Grandview Trail as we ascend, all of it deposited from the storms over the last few days.

King Tut is the last to reach Grandview Point and promptly drops his pack, collapses to the ground on his back, and muscles out some exhausted snow angels.