The bonus of starting a trip from a car camp is cooking a big breakfast. After that we’re heading down the South Bass Trail at about 10 am. There are many slushy patches of snow, but thankfully no ice. It takes about an hour to reach the Esplanade and we stop for a short break at the Royal Arch Route junction. Mount Huethawali dominates the view to the north.

From here we trek west a few miles, making good time over the relatively level slickrock. I take a clumsy spill and bend one of my cheap trekking poles. We stop on Drummond Plateau, west of Seep Spring for lunch.

Now we head south and soon discover why this is a route and not a trail. Traversing the minor drainages between Toltec Point and Montezuma Point is tedious and demanding. The route is consistently obscure and we probably chose a path that was too low and steep. We pick, scramble, climb, and push our way forward. It is a relief to regain the Esplanade below Montezuma Point and we take a break. I’m exhausted, dehydrated, and cramping. I think those beers last night are catching up with me. Luckily we’re not planning to go much further.

Below Point Huitzil we drop into the east arm of Royal Arch Creek. I have read other trip descriptions that reported confusion about which tributary branch is the correct route. For us it’s fairly obvious we’re in the main drainage and there are timely cairns. We trek downstream to the west for maybe a quarter mile before reaching some pools where there is a workable campsite. With water close at hand we set Camp 1. All are tired and hit the sack before 9 pm.

Day 2 – East branch of Royal Arch Creek to Toltec Beach:

The hike continues downstream at about 9 am. A little late because Mantis’ water filter broke and we tried unsuccessfully to fix it (MSR should be ashamed; it’s only three months old with barely any usage). We quickly reach the impassable pour-off that has bypass routes on both sides. Mantis and I have done our homework, and we’re fairly certain this is the site of what many Canyoneers refer to as “the Ledge.” We investigate the left/south side and sure enough, the path pinches out at a ledge. It’s an exposed sideways shuffle, where any misstep would probably result in a fatal plunge. I’m not sure I would try to cross it sans rope, even without a pack.

We backtrack and attempt the right/northern route. It’s a rough detour but much safer option. There is a short section requiring a crawl underneath an overhang, and there are also two spots where we lower packs and down-climb. Then we’re back in the drainage and approaching the confluence with the main arm of Royal Arch Creek.

Our route turns north now and we encounter another drop-off. There is a bypass to the west, but this scramble looks like fun, so we lower packs and shimmy down a chute on the east side without incident. Pools of water start reappearing. At the narrowest section of the canyon there is a pool stretching from wall to wall. We remove our boots and wade through to the other side. Eventually we reach the junction where our route escapes this canyon through a notch that climbs out to the east.

The creek bed is dry here so we drop packs and wander downstream in search of water. There is a small waterfall into a pool where we stop to fill up water bottles. We’d love to spend time down at the arch that is this creek’s namesake, but we’re a little worried about our timing getting to Camp 2 at Toltec drainage.

The climb out to the northeast is steep but short. Views from up here are fabulous. Royal Arch is visible right below us, and we can see down River as far as Stephen Aisle. Our trek resumes eastward for about an hour until we reach “the Rappel.”

This is where the trip takes an interesting turn for me. Anyone with even the most basic climbing experience will agree this is a relatively easy twenty foot rappel. However, I have never rappelled in my life, or attempted any other kind of technical climbing maneuver involving rope.

For some reason I have chosen The Canyon as the site for my very first time rappelling ever. Call me Canyon crazy. I would discourage anyone from making this particular situation their first time, but I am in the very accomplished hands of Mantis, whom I trust completely.

Alex is an experienced climber and goes down first in a matter of seconds; he then retrieves the packs as we lower them. Mantis walks me through the basics and essentials of rappelling. Let’s hope the phrase “crash course” doesn’t literally apply here. I take another look over the edge where Alex is watching me from a narrow shelf. The drop beyond him is even further (note to self: don’t miss the landing spot!). My nerves are taking a beating, but before I can think myself out of this, I’m giving in to the relentless force of gravity and putting all my faith in rope barely thicker than a finger.

Per Mantis’ instruction, I keep a “death grip” on the rope with my right hand and lower myself at a snail’s pace. At one point I lose traction between my boots and the cliff face and spin about halfway around, then recover balance. Eons pass as I inch my way down until I’m back on terra firma shaking hands with Alex. I may have just set a new Canyon record for longest time ever spent negotiating “the Rappel.”

The beach at Toltec drainage is close but the route down is steep, and loose footing requires attention. A towering sand dune marks the last obstacle of our descent and we set up Camp 2 on the small beach. Five rafts drift by on a float trip. Their occupants wave and make camp across The River. I guess that means we’ll have to put up with extra company at Elves Chasm tomorrow.

Up the drainage there is the slightest trickle of seasonal water where I filter a couple quarts. I should have tried a sip first, this water tastes incredibly salty. Not like drinking the ocean, but annoying and distasteful nonetheless. Alex is a graduate student in geology and suspects the salty taste derives from leaching of alkaline or gypsum deposits.

Day 3 – Toltec Beach to Elves Chasm to Garnet Canyon:

After breakfast we shoulder day-packs and hike down River towards Elves Chasm. The best route tends to stay with high ground above The River for about 1.5 miles. Elves Chasm itself is appropriately named, looking like something from out of a Tolkien book. From below the arch, Royal Arch Creek cascades into a series of spectacular waterfalls, culminating at the confluence with The River.

Eventually the first of many groups of River rats stop by for a visit. Too many people so we climb above the first waterfall. Mantis and Alex take the adventurous east route, while I take the safer west option. A short break and Mantis decides to try the more difficult climb above the second waterfall. Alex and I defer out of a cautious respect for the inevitable exposed down-climb.

Mantis gets back and says the third waterfall is smaller and there’s a way above it also, but we still have a lot of trekking today so he turned around. Out of the hordes below only two other people have the spirit to climb up to our level where we have lunch.

In order to avoid drinking any more of that shitty water at Toltec drainage we climb down and maximize our supply from Royal Arch Creek. As we’re preparing to leave the sun finally crests south of us, warming things so quickly that staying for a short swim is a temptation. But we must keep moving.

The route between here and Camp 2 is much easier to follow going down River. Returning in the opposite direction we take several wrong turns as a result of misleading paths. Back at Toltec we pack quickly and depart eastward along The River. It’s a tough scramble and there are some nasty sections involving the so called “carnivorous” rock with knife blade edges.

Where the upstream course of The River turns north, so does the route. We are slowly regaining the Tonto platform and the going gets easier. Above the crossing of Garnet Canyon there are campsites and seasonal water. Alex hikes up the Tapeats to check the potential terrain ahead, but it’s getting late and this is clearly our best option for Camp 3.

The water here is also brackish and we have no choice but to use some of it for drinks and meals. Fortunately the salinity level is not as bad as the Toltec drainage water. The first substantial clouds of this trip roll in and obscure our moonlit camp. Is a storm eminent?

Day 4 – Garnet Canyon to Copper Canyon:

Under very cloudy and cold conditions we pack up and head north along the Tonto. There are great views of Walthenberg Rapids where the trail turns and starts trending eastward. At the unnamed side canyon northwest of Spencer Terrace we stop for lunch, anxious about the weather. Storms are closing in all around us. Mantis points our attention across the Inner Gorge. Heavy snowfall is visibly moving our way, and within minutes my winter Canyon streak of nineteen consecutive days sans precipitation ends.

We scramble to get ourselves and gear under a few available Tapeats overhangs. Alex and I crawl underneath a slab of sandstone as the Tonto platform is transformed into a winter wonderland. This is definitely one of the more uncomfortable meals I’ve had in the backcountry, but at least we’re staying dry. The snowfall continues nearly unabated for the next four hours until we reach camp in Copper Canyon.

We all begin setting up our tents immediately after reaching camp, but not nearly quick enough. The snow starts falling even heavier now without the slightest letup, and doesn’t stop for another six hours. Mantis and Alex tough it out beneath a small overhang and manage to stay mostly dry. Wet already, I set up shop in my tent reading, journalizing, cooking, whiskeying, etc. Slightly cabin feverish but I take advantage of my vestibule and keep half a flap open to track the outside world; it’s actually a fun change of pace with enough to keep busy.

That’s a good thing, because except for a five minute break saying hello to the guys (during which we heard a small rockslide a quarter mile up canyon), I spend fifteen consecutive hours in my tent, a new personal record. At one point we seriously discuss cutting the trip short by hiking out in one long day tomorrow if the weather doesn’t clear. Wait and see but we’ll get an early start tomorrow morning to be safe.

Day 5 – Copper Canyon to Bass Canyon:

Cloudy at first light but sunrise eventually burns off a foggy inner Canyon. What a relief. Classic Canyon weather, one day after a massive storm it is too warm to hike in more than a short sleeve shirt. This trip shan’t be cut short.

Hit the trail then stop to dry out our stuff and eat lunch at an impressive viewpoint across from Shinumo Creek. As I flick another tick off my pack it occurs to me we’ve each had at least one encounter with these bastards every day of this trip. Ticks are not a new Canyon experience for me, but one or two per trip has been the norm, as opposed to per day.

We eventually swing around into Bass Canyon and find some rain pools downstream from the creek junction to refill on water. These pools are small and very dirty; I have to clean my pump filter twice because it’s doing double duty. Our first goal for camp was here but there are still many hours of daylight so we decide to push for the base of the Redwall and make a decision there.

The next couple miles are steep hiking up the drainage and my ass gets kicked as I’ve got some rare toe blisters that start burning and stabbing. Camp sites in upper Bass Canyon are very limited for a group larger than one, but we make do at a spot just short of the Redwall, with a perfect snapshot to the north of the inner Canyon.

Day 6 – Bass Canyon to South Bass Trailhead:

Knowing I’m the usual holdup I get a twenty minute head start on the dudes but they pass me before the Redwall ascent is complete. They break above at the Esplanade, I join them briefly and then set out first again. If given another chance I would love to camp here, this stretch of Esplanade along the South Bass Trail between the top of the Redwall and Royal Arch junction is beautiful.

The storm two days ago deposited a few fresh inches of snow and a couple icy stretches. No matter, the ascent through the Coconino is slow going either way. After being passed yet again, I hike out in a feel good time of only ten minutes behind Mantis. So either I was feeling better or he was feeling worse than usual. Alex greets me at the rim with an ice cold Tecate.