Grand Canyon National Park, Arizona - Backpacking Trip

Over the years, we had the good fortune of backpacking to the bottom of the Grand Canyon six times. We had started with the popular and relatively easy "tourist" trails and progressed to steadily more challenging routes each time. One reason was the sense of adventure. Another was that as the park became ever more popular and crowded, you had to get far out in the backcountry to experience "real" wilderness. And perhaps most important was the fascination with the world's most sublime natural place. When you go below the rim it's a "world apart". For some people, it gets in their blood, and the urge to return is very powerful.

For our seventh and, to date, last trip we planned a true expedition. Our week-long, sixty mile walk would include secondary trails, routes, and trailless cross country. This would be our most challenging trip into Grand Canyon National Park.

There were some risks. We had not done a serious backpack in several years. The available literature describing the less traveled places was pretty sparse. On previous trips we knew exactly what we were getting into. Not so this time. The rangers always warn hikers not to overestimate themselves or underestimate the power of the canyon and its rugged environment. If a hiker gets in trouble on the crowded tourist trails, the worst that usually happens is severe discomfort. If it happens in the wilderness the result is a "Death March" or a "Grand Adventure", depending on how you look at it.

Shown above, our starting point at Indian Hollow Campground (point #1 on map below). This friendly, wooded place gave no inkling to what would follow.

Right, a look into the canyon from the Sowats Point trail (just past point 3 on the map). The trail switchbacks down to the Esplanade (the first terrace below the rim) on the sand dune in the lower right corner, very strenuous walking.

We had reached Sowats Point going crosscountry (point 2) from the campground. The biggest challenge was getting past the barbed wire fences left by ranchers.

The first inkling of trouble came in the late afternoon on the Esplanade (point 4) when we lost the very faint trail. We had taken this roundabout trail because there was a sure source of spring water in Sowats Canyon (point 5). With the temperature over 90°F, you must be sure of getting water. We decide to make a dry camp on the Esplanade and broke out the map and compass. It is a slightly uncomfortable feeling when you are running low on water. However we navigated correctly and found the route through the cliff into Sowats Canyon early the next morning. And, sure enough, there was plentiful water at Mountain Sheep Spring.

Pictured left, a view up Jumpup Canyon a short distance downstream from the confluence with Sowats Canyon (point 6). The canyon had a small, intermittent stream which allowed for some trees and shade, making it quite pleasant. (Many desert streams will flow in some places, then go underground or peter out, leaving a dry bed.)

The photo right is the Jumpup Creek Narrows (point 7) just above the confluence with Kanab Creek. When a stream flows through vertical sections of cliff, it is called a "Narrows". Such areas are always very fascinating and photogenic and can be difficult if water is flowing. However the creek was dry here and the walking easy.

Left, the site of our second night camp on Kanab Creek (just past point 8). This part of the creek was fairly easy to walk. However as the day wore on, the canyon narrowed and progress became more difficult. We were faced with more stream crossings, boulders, and obstacles. Backpacks had to be removed a couple times to scramble down steep dropoffs. Late in the afternoon, I slipped on a loose rock crossing the stream, spraining my ankle horribly, and flipping headfirst into a pool of quicksand with my backpack pinning my face half in the mud (point 9, picture right was nearby). Anxious moments ensued while Gerry yanked the pack off of my head.

We had to stop here for the night, and the next morning I couldn't walk. This was my first moment of real fear during an outdoor experience. Rescue would take days at this place; a helicopter could not possibly land in this narrow canyon. After much discussion, we decided it best to continue downstream to the Colorado River where help could be sought from the passing rafters.

Binding my ankle and using my walking stick as a cane we pushed on. Luckily, as the day warmed, the ankle loosened up, and I could walk with a slow, painful limp. Unfortunately, the canyon became quite difficult (point 10) with many boulder-strewn stream crossings. What would have been strenuous in any case became excruciating. In the early afternoon, Gerry goes down the same way, badly spraining his ankle on a loose rock (point 11). We decide we'd better keep moving before his ankle stiffens up.

Fortunately, the canyon starts to widen and become less rocky. We pass a spring area (photo, left) offering coolness and shade. We spend more time wading in the creek to bathe the injured ankles in the cool water.

The more comfortable environment has a positive effect. We find a good camp site for the fourth night a few miles short of the Colorado River, and feel more confident that we can make it through despite the injuries.

The photo right is Kanab Creek, just above the confluence with the Colorado River (point 12).

We reach the Colorado River (point 12) early the next morning feeling pretty good about things. Our thought is that the walk along the river to Deer Creek would be one day. From there, we would take the relatively easy secondary trails out of the canyon and back to the campground.

However as we rounded the bend out of Kanab Creek we faced a sight from a nightmare: a gigantic boulder field hundreds of feet high extending as far as the eye could see (point 13). There was no trail or path. We were faced with miles of boulder hopping on bad legs.

Here is where we paid the price for incomplete preparedness. We did not know about the boulder field. We had only light weight canvas boots (with little ankle support) for wading in Kanab Creek. This kind of hiking required strong leather boots even without bad ankles. The air temperature was over 90°F. There was no shade. The rocks were burning hot to the touch. We did not know to bring gloves. Within a couple hours the tips of ALL my fingers AND toes were burned.

For good measure, there were rattlesnakes in the area, usually in the shady spaces between rocks. The few clusters of trees offering shade were occupied by the snakes. You had to watch every step. Progress was agonizingly slow, less than a mile per hour.

The photo (above left) is our only one from this segment of the trip. It shows the Colorado River just below our fifth night camp. We came upon a small sand dune late in the afternoon, and in shade, that made a delightful (and totally private) campsite. We had to drink river water which is safe if you disinfect it heavily but not very tasty. (Also, freeze-dried food gets pretty tiresome after five days of it.)

The boulder fields finally end after a couple more hours walking the next morning. Just past Fishtail Canyon (point 14) the bluffs crowd against the river, and the route climbs up and around the cliffs. The difficult hand-to-foot, sometimes exposed scramble (you have to crawl or use your hands) seemed a relief after the boulders. Plus, at the top of the bluff there was a nice lunch spot in a shady side canyon with a very lush spring.

After returning to the river side there was a couple more hours of dreary boulder hopping before reaching Deer Creek Falls (point 15, shown right). The 100 foot high falls with lush greenery and delightful pools at its bottom is one of the great oases in the Grand Canyon, a joy after the hardships of the past two days.

Since this area is heavily visited there are designated camping areas, in this case along Deer Creek above the cliffs. We are too exhausted to continue and camp by the falls after everyone leaves.

The remainder of the trip would be a strenuous climb out of the canyon but on real dirt trails without any complications. It was too shady to get photos of the spectacular Deer Creek Narrows above the falls. The trail was on a narrow ledge high above the roaring creek. A slip here would be fatal. The effect was like a catwalk in a tunnel.

Shown left, we're ascending the colorful Red Wall on the Thunder River trail (point 16). At right is our seventh and final camp site on the Esplanade (point 17). (I had camped at this spot once before and had a horrifying experience. While squatting to go to the bathroom, a rattlesnake came coiling out of the brush directly beneath my exposed private areas, a couple seconds of total surprise and terror!)

The final day provided the easiest walking of the entire trip (point 18). Even the final ascent to the rim was easier than most other trails. Below, I take one last look at the canyon from the trailhead at the rim, a few short minutes from my vehicle. My feelings of accomplishment were mixed with doubts about my sanity. "Death March" or "Grand Adventure"? It depends on how you look at it.