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Hiking | 12.28 Miles |
1,841 AEG |
| Hiking | 12.28 Miles | 7 Hrs 34 Mns | | 2.10 mph |
1,841 ft AEG | 1 Hour 43 Mns Break | | | |
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Partners |
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[ show ]
| partners | | Yeah, so.
I hadn't been to Fossil since the Backbone Fire of 2021, and somehow Karl had never been anywhere near here ever. Making a loop of the flume, Bob Bear, and 708 seemed to be an awful lot of boring road walking, and I wondered if it wouldn't be more fun to head up flume and make an off-trail route along the creek from the dam back down to the waterfall. The off-trail is only about 2.5 miles after all.
Out of the 12,000 fossil area triplogs on HAZ, there was only a single one that reported having done this before. Over a decade ago, toddak reported having canyoneered downstream from the dam. His post seemed to provide evidence of survival.
Except for the technical things, some of the higher mileage things, the cycling, or climbing Eagletail Peak, I'm usually comfortable doing things that toddak has done. But I still messaged a handful of the more adventurous people I know to ask if anybody knows why it seems to be so infrequently traveled. After all, who doesn't like following the watery rim canyons in Arizona? Sycamore, West Fork, Woods, Wet Beaver, West Clear, East Verde, Real Verde, Tonto, Haigler, Canyon, etc. They all have ample detailed reports of passage. But not Fossil.
So we set off on a lovely late-November day. The last time I hiked the flume road there was an actual flume here. Seeing how nicely APS crews had dismantled and removed this historic infrastructure was simultaneously impressive and a little sad. I'm glad I got to see it 20 years ago when it was still in use. It probably would have burned 3 years ago anyway.
We made quick time to the dam and I took Karl on a tour of some highlights in the spring area. A handful of people were hanging out at the dam, the only others we encountered today.
My map recon led me to believe that the best route to head downstream would be on the south side of the creek, so I knew we would want to cross somewhere early in our adventure. This is where the day took a turn.
There are no easy routes to reach the creek. It is surrounded by some of the most dense flora that I've encountered in Arizona. There are the intertwined thickets of thorny shrub that literally cannot be penetrated short of leading with electric hedge trimmers. Then there are the forests of reeds. These can sort of be pushed through by a determined soul with some serious effort, and indicate shallower water as they tend to grow on the travertine dams or shorelines.
Speaking of travertine dams, they're very cool. And high. And what that means is that they create some impressively deep pools behind them. These are all mandatory swimmers. There is no shallow wading here. And these dams are beautiful living gardens, untouched by the feet of visitors like they are far downstream. So they're difficult to see and cross. And there are treacherous mysteries and surprise plunge pools waiting at every turn. But the water is crystal clear with a touch of aqua. Visibility to the sandy bottom a dozen feet down is really special.
I found a thicket of something partially penetrable on the opposite shore where I was somehow able to fight through to dry ground. I had lost Karl along the way. After a few minutes we made shouting contact and I spent the next 10 minutes trying to direct him through the mess to get to me. There was crawling involved.
Finally across the creek it was time to turn downstream. In under 50 yards pushing through the shoreline hell we got cliffed out. There was no way we would turn around and attempt to cross back over.
The only option was up. And it was awful. After what was apparently less than 200 feet of near-vertical scree, dirt, ash, and locust we found ourselves on a high slope above the creek. All of this is just 3 years out of the Backbone burn so the locust and other shrub was reasonably avoidable with a pinball maze of routefinding. We headed back down toward the lower bench immediately above the creek hoping to find some wildlife routes that might be typical in similar terrain elsewhere in the state.
Nope. That wasn't to be. More locust. Occasional bonus catclaw, and not a chance in hell of dropping down the final 20 feet to the creekside wall of not-gonna-get-through-it. So we headed back up again, figuring our route downstream would have to stay up 100+ feet above the creek in the burned former juniper range.
This seemed to be going ok until we reached a drainage that was barely visible on topo but looked a lot like Grapevine Creek or any of the other Grand Canyon side drainages that the Tonto Trail goes around. There was no crossing it. So we started heading up canyon to get around it. And then we stopped.
This is just stupid. What the hell are we doing?
The flume road was nicely visible just across the valley and we decided getting to it was the best option. We knew it would suck to get to it. And it did. From when we decided to bail, it took 55 minutes to move 500 feet.
Along the way, Karl took a 25 foot tumble down a 60 degree slope, stopped by the boulders at the bottom of a ravine. The button almost got pushed. Somehow the things that hurt all still worked the way they were supposed to and we got back to making our way toward the creek -- and the flume road on the other side.
Have I mentioned Arizona Grape yet? At least it's not thorny. But those vines will grab you for miles. There is no pushing through them. We found a pool with a boulder on the opposite shore. Finally a possible landing on the other side of the creek. No attempts at staying dry were made. It was a thankfully pleasant day and we knew the flume road would have plenty of afternoon sun, so in we went. The boulder gave us a chance to regroup for the next 10 yards which would take its toll before pushing out into delightful burned desert scrub. Cockleburs and catclaw and whatever that grass crap is that will never come out of my socks have never been so welcomed. The road was only a 50 foot climb above us.
Karl wasn't complaining too bad, and I was surprised that I was able to convince him to take the LPtrekkinEagleJoe route down to the creek near the waterfall. After all he'd never been here before. He HAD to see the waterfall, right?
It was almost dark. There was nobody else in the canyon anymore. We enjoyed a beer. It was EARNED! Amazingly it hadn't exploded during the fall or other pumpkintery today. It was nice to be on the very-well traveled Dixon trail as daylight waned. It got cold. It probably would have helped if I wasn't soaking wet from getting in the water at the falls. #doinitforthegram ;)
Oh, and the road back to the 260 is currently in the most miserable washboard shape I have recently experienced. 14 miles of bone-jarring vibrations. It would have destroyed a bobblehead mounted to the dash.
So. In review: No. You can't hike downstream from the dam to the waterfall. Don't bother trying.
* It might be fun to attempt a swim/float/paddle in warmer months. But I think you would be in the water 90% of the time. |
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Autumn Foliage Observation Moderate
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I'm not sure what my spirit animal is, but I'm confident it has rabies. |
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