To read the trip report from these photos click here.

Kaiser and I get dropped off at the South Bass Trailhead around 11 am, we have left our exit vehicle at Hermit’s Rest. The thought dawns that neither of us has been shuttled to a trailhead before and we now have no choice but to complete our hike, since backing out or retreating would leave us here without a car. This thought looms large as we slip below the rim on the first few steps of thousands that we will take to cover the next 45+ miles in five days.

We stop briefly to inspect the Anasazi ruins above the Esplanade. Like I did about two years ago, Kaiser would have walked right by them without noticing if I hadn’t pointed them out.

Unbeknownst to us, it appears that this trip will be something of a test for our various gear items, as we encounter our first mishap. At a lunch break prelude to the Redwall descent, Kaiser discovers his 2.5 liter water pouch has sprung a leak. We quickly empty some of the remaining water into the limited capacity we have available, and then give the rest to one of four hikers we encounter on their way out.

Kaiser and I have opposite hiking strengths. Descending takes its toll on his body while I motor down the trail, but conversely he leaves me in the dust during ascents. The going is slow either way, our packs are heavily overburdened with water. We have both tried to haul enough to skip the water at Serpentine tomorrow morning, consumption of which can reputedly lead to digestive issues.

We reach the Tonto Trail junction and climb out of Bass Canyon to begin our long east trending traverse. Up on the Tonto platform at the use area boundary there is a suitable camp and we are exhausted, so we drop our packs with a shrug of relief that we’re done for the day.

There are great views nearby from the lip of the Inner Gorge. The last rays of sunlight illuminate Holy Grail Temple, and we can see Bass Rapids and three separate camps of River rats over 1,000 feet below.

Tonight is my 100th night of backpacking in The Canyon! I lament to Kaiser upon wishing I had brought something to celebrate, then completely surprise him with two cold Tecates from my pockets, beer never tasted better…until we’re finished and then I further shock Kaiser with yet two more cold ones. We enjoy and toast to the celebration, albeit now he’s a little suspicious of how much beer I really was stupid enough to carry down here (4 was all).

Despite this being a dry camp there are many biting bugs around that look like mosquitoes on steroids, and we are grateful for bug spray.

Day 2 – Tonto above Bass Canyon to Le Conte Plateau:

The gods of gear mishaps struck again during the night, Kaiser’s inflatable sleeping pad has sprung a leak. We are on the trail before 8 am, a decent start, but one that we would soon wish had occurred earlier.

There is trickling water upon our arrival at Serpentine Canyon, and it seems we have inadvertently stumbled upon an amphibious mating orgy. There are at least a half dozen pairs of toads in these pools, each pair consists of a smaller toad riding atop a slightly larger one. I’m no biologist but I think it’s safe to say these horny toads are the real deal.

As mentioned earlier, there have been hiker complaints about the quality of this water. I pumped two liters as a precaution and ended up dumping them near Ruby Canyon, but Kaiser did drink a couple filtered liters of this water with no ill effects.

Hiking the Gems between South Bass and Boucher is quite similar to any other stretch of Tonto, constantly contouring in and out of side canyons. At Emerald Canyon there is one small pool of water below the crossing that looks like it won’t last much longer. Continuing on it is getting downright hot as we approach a dry Quartz Canyon.

We hunker down here in the limited shade of a small Tapeats overhang for lunch and then trek on to Ruby Canyon. I stumble upon a very small kingsnake along the way, but it was too quick to get a decent picture. We are physically beat by the time we reach Ruby Canyon, so the sight and sound of flowing water here is a reassuring comfort.

We decide it’s just crazy to continue hiking in this heat and spend a few hours next to the creek, hydrating and waiting for cooler temperatures. After 5 pm enough of The Canyon is in shade to justify moving on, so we head out to Le Conte Plateau. There’s a good campsite near the west end of the plateau where we should have stopped, but instead we adjust to a marginal site further east.

Day 3 – Le Conte Plateau to Tonto above Agate Canyon:

Learning our lesson from yesterday, we are up drinking hot cocoa and coffee as a crescent moon rises at about 5 am. We are on the trail an hour later and thankful for the ease of cooler hiking. Sunrise gives way to another blessing, partly cloudy skies, and we blaze through Jade and Jasper Canyons (both dry).

Peering into the depths of Turquoise Canyon upon our approach is somewhat unsettling because it appears dry, but we discover two large potholes below the crossing. The water looks greenish after filtering but tastes fine.

Here we have a decision to make, as this could be our last watering hole before camp. Sapphire Canyon is almost 3 miles away, and a glance at my trip notes reveals that seasonal water is “possible” there. By this point we had hoped to cross paths with hikers doing the Gems from east to west and exchange water info, but we haven’t seen anybody. As wet as this winter and spring has been, I’m hunching on the reliability of Sapphire water, but is it worth the risk?

We decide not based on my conservative nature when it comes to water and refill everything at Turquoise. So of course, three much warmer miles later we encounter plenty of clear, flowing water in Sapphire. This is the perfect place for lunch and a siesta. Sapphire sports excellent views of Scorpion Ridge across The River, and also two large ponderosa pines that have no business taking up root way down here at around 3,000 feet of elevation, thousands of feet below their customary rim area strongholds.

After a few hours The Canyon has once again cooled to a hike-able temperature and we resume our trek. Passing through Agate Canyon, someone has placed part of a desert bighorn ram horn atop a boulder, unfortunately other than occasional droppings this will be the only trace of bighorn activity we see on this trip.

The West Tonto Trail through the Gems is easy to lose in places due to multiple trailing, game tracks, and the like, but it is typically just as easy to find again with rudimentary route finding skills. While waiting for Kaiser a few times during this trip he would eventually arrive at my destination from a slightly different route than I had taken.

Near the end of our hike today we lost the trail again in what proved to be a stroke of good fortune as we made our way to the lip of the Tonto northwest of Geikie Peak where there is a fabulous campsite. The stunning full circle views include a down River shot of Agate and Sapphire Rapids.

Day 4 – Tonto above Agate Canyon to Boucher Creek:

If we “lost” the trail yesterday it wasn’t by much as we’re trekking eastward again at about 6 am this morning, right after a round of hot drinks and another predawn crescent moonrise. By Tonto standards, sections of the trail contouring around Scylla Butte seem somewhat tedious.

Our approach into Slate Canyon reminds me of a poor man’s Grapevine Canyon as it sinks in how long this side canyon will take to hike around. I am certain of finding water here but when we reach the crossing there is only one measly pothole. Realizing we may have to search for water, subtle hydration anxiety creeps in as I wait for Kaiser, and wonder how much water we can scrounge from that slimy pool. I was making so much noise between shedding my pack and tacking off my boots it took me a couple moments of near silence to hear flowing water just upstream of the crossing.

As we filter that water and have a few snacks a pair of California condors soars over the mouth of Slate Canyon, and then pick their way up-canyon along the western Redwall cliffs. We enjoy their aerial show for a good fifteen minutes.

It is a long haul from Slate to Boucher and things are getting warm again. I know that any shady spot between here and there is unlikely for a meal break, so we push for Boucher Creek. When it finally comes into view below there’s no question of stopping before we get down to that cool water.

So while our lunch stop was a little later than usual today, we have already arrived at our intended destination. Neither of us can recall ever hiking ten miles before lunch. We set up camp above the creek near the junction with Topaz Canyon, and lounge around for a bit.

With so much time on our hands now, we stroll down the creek a mile or so to Boucher Rapids. The River is muddy, swollen, and the boiling rapids look intimidating. To us these rapids appear slightly less formidable than Hermit Rapids just up-River, but that’s based on our memories from over two years ago. Either way, it’s an impressive sight.

We had hoped to catch some River rats in action but after about an hour we decide to leisurely walk back alongside Boucher Creek. It’s nice to be near the creek and have a wet camp for the first time on this trip, and we enjoy the extra water with some cocktails.

Day 5 – Boucher Creek to overlook below Yuma Point:

This morning was rough on me. At first light I fly out of my tent and scramble up the hill away from the creek for an urgent intestinal requirement. The deed done I am dismayed to discover that in my hasty quest for relief I have forgotten my TP supply. Hope some of these rocks are smoother than they look…Back in camp recovering, one of those steroid juiced mosquitoes bites me on the forehead. I ask Kaiser how it looks and he laughs as the bite area has swollen to the size of a quarter, my own personal unwanted third eye. As we pump water for the hike up, my filter’s intake valve fails, something I could fix with time and patience but Kaiser’s filter is working fine. Finally ready to strap up and go, but then the zipper breaks on my backpack’s top pouch. So, yeah, I’ve had better backcountry mornings.

Most of the hiking we have left is uphill so I tell Kaiser to take the lead, telling him to be sure and turn right at the Tonto junction. A bit later I look up to see him heading north on the Tonto away from Boucher Trail. He took a left at the junction. I holler him back to where he missed the turn and onto the correct trail.

Early into the Redwall ascent we pass a foursome of a 12 year old kid, his parents, and an older guy in good shape who appears to be “leading” them. From first glance the parents look perhaps overmatched for Boucher and are literally inching up the trail. At least it’s shady now, but they got a late start for their hiking speed. I ask the father if they’re going all the way out today, he responds, “we’re gonna try.”

Further up I accidentally sidetrack onto a spur trail but correct my error quickly. Looking back I see some guy running up the trail. In our short chat as he whizzes by me I learn he’s just doing a day-hike from Hermit. Oh sure, just a leisurely 22 mile run through The Canyon along trails that receive little to no maintenance. One final note on the ascent out of Boucher Canyon, we are unaware of any names for the upper portion of that Redwall ascent, but Satan’s Staircase seems appropriate for all of the “step-ups.”

We pass over into Travertine Canyon and take a long lunch break in the shade at the base of the Supai ascent. Eventually the foursome from earlier passes us but we quickly overtake them again where they are resting about halfway up the ascent. The parents look exhausted and we can’t tell how heavy the kid’s pack is, but it looks big.

Atop the Supai we sprawl out on a large boulder, comfortably shirtless to let our sweat dry in the warm sun. An hour later it’s snowing in a freak windstorm! Here’s how it went down – Just before reaching the camp at the overlook below Yuma Point it started sprinkling and getting a little windy. As we hustle to set up tents, fearsome winds simply take over our camp. We can barely hold our tents in place to secure them, I gather about six large rocks in my tent, each weighing about ten pounds. The wind blows so hard the tent bottom picks up and literally flips these rocks over. Kaiser similarly puts rocks in his tent and still the wind power alone moves his tent three feet closer to the abyss.

Each of us get in our tents and brace against the wind with packs and bodies. Though our tents are very close to each other we must yell to communicate, then it starts raining hard. My rain fly is not secured so I brave the elements for a couple minutes to frantically keep my tent dry. The rain has turned to snow and it is blowing crazy sideways. We endure these conditions for about an hour with the rain/snow mix letting up more than the gusts, both of us agreeing instantly that we’ve never seen or felt more severe winds.

The storm lets up enough to invite Kaiser over to my tent for a cocktail, just as we’re getting comfy it looks all clear outside so we venture out hoping the worst is over. It’s a short but welcome respite as the views of all the snow topped buttes throughout The Canyon are astounding. We’re treated to a half hour of visual bliss before snowfall circles back in and chases us to our tents.

Later another short storm break after nightfall allows us just enough time to prepare hot drinks and meals outside. The timing was perfect, as dinner ends the storm resumes and remains throughout the night.

Day 6 – Overlook below Yuma Point to Hermit’s Rest:

We emerge from our tents in the morning to a frosty, icy, April Canyon winterland. Though we don’t need it, every pothole around is filled with water. Unwilling to escape The Canyon just yet, we soak up some sunrise and delay departure.

Kaiser is concerned about the foursome of hikers we passed yesterday. Forced to spend so much time in our tents we have no idea if they hunkered down for that storm or passed us by and hiked through it. Perhaps we could have hiked back to look for them, but without knowing if they had already passed by, how far back should we hike? One thing is for certain, if they continued trekking through that storm, the wind could have made it very dangerous.

The hike out passes without incident, except noting that there are no footsteps from the four hikers. We learn why at Hermit’s Rest. A Ranger is stationed at the trailhead parking area and reports that the foursome is an overdue group. We give him all the information we can – last sighting, time of sighting, descriptions, etc. and hope for the best.

Kaiser would later phone the SAR coordinator and discover they had hunkered down along the trail for the storm. Shortly after we exited, some Rangers descended the trail to eventually find the group successfully and assist in hauling out them and their gear.

To see more photos from this trip click here.

To read the trip report from these photos click here.

The drive out to Pasture Wash is as long as remembered, but we also luck out twice. Road conditions are the best I’ve seen and there is nobody manning the Havasupai tribal gate for the $25 fee. I stop briefly at South Bass Trailhead to inspect things, and there are way more cars here than last year. We hop back into the truck and head over to Signal Hill and Ruby Point.

The ranger at the backcountry office gave us the option of either camp. There’s a truck parked at the Signal Hill site so we continue down the road to Ruby Point. The camp here is unsigned but obvious; it’s just south of a couple downed trees blocking the road. Those trees appear to have been dragged across the road to discourage vehicles from traveling out to Havasupai Point, presumably by the Park Service.

As I set up camp, three Texans are returning from down the road and remove the tree barriers. They pick up the truck we saw parked and then drive out to Havasupai Point to camp.

Day 2 – Dayhike from Ruby Point:

I’m up early and we decide to hike out to Havasupai Point. The Texans pass me in their truck on the way out. It’s about 1.5 miles to the point and well worth the hike. From here the views of The Canyon are among the finest I’ve seen from any named point.

She decides to lounge at the point for awhile, but there’s too much daylight left for me not to sneak in another day-hike. Fossil Mountain is almost due west of here and looks pretty steep, but certainly not technical.

Following a series of drainages, I end up east of the saddle below the rim, marking the base of the mountain. This area gets a lot of game traffic and there are elk droppings everywhere. The route up to the summit is very steep, but straightforward. A few talus stretches slow the ascent on account of loose footing. The entire hike to the top from the point takes less than an hour. Mount Huethawali dominates the foreground to the west. Powell Plateau and Holy Grail Temple command the northerly views. Havasupai Point blocks most of The Canyon sights to the east. This summit is appropriately named, as there are many fossils littered about. On the way back I follow the rim more closely, it takes a little longer due to additional steep sections.

Back at Havasupai Point, we enjoy cocktail hour before sunset. Although she can only handle a few minutes just above the abyss, and has to sit down some feet further away.

Day 3 – South Bass Trail dayhike:

Pack up the truck and head back to the South Bass Trail for a day-hike down to the Esplanade and back.

To see more photos from this trip click here.

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.