On an intensely hot day in July of 1959, teenager John Owens and two companions hiked down Tanner Trail.  Due to a lethal combination of heat exhaustion, dehydration, and failing judgment his two hiking partners died; one from falling off a cliff and the other from heat stroke.  At Tanner Beach, Owens built a crude driftwood raft and floated down the Colorado River for the next 4 days, ending up on a sandbar near Neville Rapids.  Owens survived for the next few days on cactus pulp and mesquite beans, meanwhile constructing a massive stone landmark that aerial searchers spotted.  He was rescued barely alive by helicopter.

2.  Woman Takes Wrong Turn in Havasu Canyon

Linda Fortney decided to visit the famous waterfalls of Havasu Canyon on a scorching summer day in 1975.  She took a wrong turn and began hiking in the opposite direction of the falls up Cataract Canyon, more than ten miles from the falls and the village of Supai.  Luckily, she found an ephemeral spring with just barely enough flow to avoid dehydration.  Lost, scared, and unwilling to venture far from the spring, she survived for 18 days until Havasupai Indians tracked and rescued her.

3.  Airmen Bail Out of Plane Over GC

During World War II, three air force crewmen were forced to bail out of a plane in flight over Grand Canyon.  The pilot ordered the evacuation on a false alarm and eventually landed safely, but the crew parachuted into the area of Tuna Creek, a remote side canyon.  At the time virtually no known route existed to reach Tuna Creek within the labyrinth of Grand Canyon.  The injured airmen survived on airdrop rations for a week before searchers finally forged a route in and rescued them.

4.  Two Men Swim the Colorado River Through GC

In 1955, Bill Beer and John Daggett dreamed up the idea of being the first people to swim the Colorado River through Grand Canyon.  Their dream, albeit illegal, became a reality.  Outfitted with swimming fins, wetsuits, and waterproof gear sacks they survived the entire run; taking 26 days to complete such a dramatic and trying ordeal.  Bill Beer chronicled their gutsy journey in his book, “We Swam the Grand Canyon:  the True Story of a Cheap Vacation That Got a Little Out of Hand”.

5.  Failed Shortcut Nearly Fatal

Like many young men of his generation, Charles Myers, a college student from New York, turned his back on the east coast throngs and headed west in 1975, eventually arriving at Grand Canyon.  He chose to backpack the Hermit Trail during the hottest time of the year, and did so decidedly unprepared.  When his supply of food ran out on the 1^st day he tried to hike out using an off-trail shortcut, falling off a ledge in the process resulting in severe injuries.  After burning his clothes and possessions in a futile attempt to secure help, Myers spent 10 painful days stumbling around Hermit Creek Canyon before he was found and rescued.

6.  GC Hiking Legend’s Near Escape

Harvey Butchart, the undisputed all-time king of Grand Canyon backcountry hiking, got himself into a fair share of close calls and precarious situations during his decades of experience below the rim.  Perhaps none were more serious than his attempt to rope climb back up a cliff in the Saddle Canyon area.  Butchart, at over 60 years of age, became stuck upside down while still attached to the rope.  After a lengthy struggle he finally freed himself from the rope, only to face more than 30 straight hours of winter hiking in near freezing temperatures to return to his vehicle.

7.  The Powell Expedition

The Powell Expedition of 1869 was the first group of Americans to boat through the Grand Canyon on the Colorado River.  They encountered innumerable near-disasters and unbelievable hardships.  While three men who abandoned the expedition tragically died, the remaining explorers survived an unprecedented journey that lasted for over 3 months, under the most strenuous conditions imaginable.

Length:

Water: Except for occasional post-storm potholes, the Colorado River is the only reliable water source along this route.  The River water can be notoriously silty, we recommend using a lightweight, collapsible bucket that will allow the sediment to settle at the bottom.  Just be sure to fill the bucket as soon as you reach camp or a resting spot, as the settling process can take some time.

Campsites: From east to west, the Escalante Route extends through the Tanner, Escalante, and Red Canyon use areas.  All of which are designated for at-large camping.  Certain sites like the sand dunes above Tanner Rapids are restricted so know the regulations before you go.  While marginal dry sites exist along this route away from The River, they should be unnecessary if you plan smartly, as there are a number of great beach camps to take advantage of.  Our favorite camps here include Tanner Beach, Cardenas Creek, Neville Rapids, and Hance Rapids.

Reflections and Attractions: The Escalante Route is a great introduction to route travel in GC for Canyoneers who have gained the appropriate trail experience. Hilltop Ruin is a fine side hike. Camping in flash prone 75-Mile Canyon during a rainstorm is a bit nerve wracking and not recommended. Depending on your perspective and skill level, the Papago Slide and the Papago Wall can be interesting or intimidating. Regardless of your experience, one thing is certain, the views along this route will blow you away.

Warnings and Musings: A young, fit member of the Yermo team tackled this route as part of his first ever GC hike and got physically ass-whooped, temporarily lost, and flirted with hypothermia. In other words, be fully prepared for this hike. Routefinding skills may be required on this trek, especially in the Escalante Creek area.

Water: Unless you’re lucky enough to be hiking right after a storm (and even then, potholes are few and far between), the only available water is at the Colorado River.

Campsites: The Tanner Trail use area is at-large camping. There are several sites starting near the saddle at 75-Mile Canyon and through the Supai. There is a great site atop the Redwall and another at its base. A couple marginal sites exist between here and The River, but seem pointless given the plentiful sites at Tanner Beach.

Reflections and Attractions: Being the first of the day to cut the trail and ascend the Toroweap and Coconino layers in a fresh blizzard is an interesting experience. Great views from 75-Mile saddle and Stegosaurus Rock. The Supai campsite below Escalante Butte has a large overhanging boulder providing perfect shelter during a storm, if you don’t mind packrats. The Redwall camp has incredible views and is a good place to cache water for return trip. Descending the Dox layer is long, awkwardly slanted, and shadeless. Tanner Beach area is wonderful for lounging, exploring, fishing, etc.

Warnings and Musings: Tanner Trail is long and brutal during the hot season. Get some easier GC experience under your belt before trying this one, we’ve personally witnessed 3 first-timers get their butts kicked on this trail.

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.

“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.