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| no partners | | By the end of the first day I had descended 5,000 feet, struggled with the weight of extra water to cache, been stung twice by a scorpion, and realized that I might be in over my head.
Six of us had set out from Monument Point on the Bill Hall Trail to Deer Creek about 9:30 in the morning in early October. I was the oldest hiker at 75 and the only female. My son, Cliff, was the youngest at 45. We had spent the previous night at Jacob Lake Inn. Their pleasant rooms and restaurant made it a good jumping off point for our hike.
It took more time than we anticipated to cover the 9.5 miles to camp. We did not take long breaks, but I think I was the one who held us up. I am small and had trouble with the huge steps down. I believe short hikers are at a disadvantage on this entire loop. Where others are able to take long strides up and down the large rocks, short people have to climb up and down.
What surprised me about Surprise Valley was that the Red Wall break leading into the valley was fairly gentle - for the Red Wall. It was the large, broken blocks of the Muav Limestone and Bright Angel Shale formations on the descent into camp at Deer Creek that I found challenging. Surprise Canyon is nothing more than landslide rubble. The landslide occurred in the geologic past, but it looks as though it could have happened yesterday. My friends were patient with me, but dusk was falling before we reached camp.
The scorpion was in my tent. It was never found, which gave me something to think about over the four nights of the trip. My arm and finger throbbed during that first night, but I was so fatigued I was able to get enough sleep and was pleased I didn't experience more serious toxicity.
On day two we dropped our packs at the "patio" on the way to Deer Creek Falls on the Colorado River. We realized the temperatures were far warmer than had been predicted. The falls are impressive, but with at least 12 rafting groups gathered there, congenial though they all were, it wasn't much of a wilderness destination. I regretted that I had not waited for my group at the patio area where Deer Creek has carved lovely terraces in the Tapeats Sandstone.
Our traverse along the Colorado River to the camp at Lower Tapeats, via the "high route," was in full sun at 95 degrees; another long, hot day. The best part of this section are the fabulous river views. There is a steep descent towards the end of this traverse that looks worse than it actually is. The Colorado was carrying a lot of silt and was running chocolate brown - very dramatic.
As we set up camp at Lower Tapeats we spotted three bark scorpions, including one that ran across my knee as I knelt setting up the tent. I didn't need any more scorpion drama.
It is more fun to write about tribulations, but none of us, for even a moment, failed to enjoy and appreciate the beauty and glory of this hike. Being so immersed in the Grand Canyon is an indescribable joy. One member of our group, Nyal, is an Arizona geologist and was able to give us detailed and enthusiastic information on every aspect of Canyon geology.
And speaking of joy, the hike up Tapeats Creek on day three was a delight. It was still too hot and the climb too steep, but we enjoyed it. I was the only one who found the two crossings of Tapeats Creek any problem. Cliff, who had already taken my pack across the creek, rushed back to help when he realized I might be swept down. Again, being short was a disadvantage.
We enjoyed the spacious, shady campsites of the Upper Tapeats camp. Cliff had carried in fly fishing gear and was in fisherman's heaven in Tapeats Creek. He is a catch-and-release guy and that is what he did.
We noticed that Nate, ordinarily the strongest hiker, was lying down after we got into camp. He didn't say much, but we all realized he wasn't feeling well. By the next morning he had a high fever, rapid pulse and respiration, swollen lymph nodes in his neck, and was faint and light-headed. Damn.
We all hiked slowly that forth day between Upper Tapeats and the Esplanade, with Cliff pacing Nate who slept (passed out?) on our short breaks and for a bit longer at lunch. We were so concerned about getting Nate out that we did not linger at Thunder River Falls or give it our full attention. The falls are quite photogenic, however, and the photos we quickly snapped are dramatic. We topped off our water there and headed for the Esplanade. By mid-afternoon, when most of the others had gone ahead to find our water cache, I realized that Nate was swaying and about to go down. He recognized he had little choice and allowed me to take his pack. His brother Nyal carried his own pack and my lighter one and I carried Nate's. I had gotten my canyon legs under me by this time and was hiking easily.
Friends can be a mixed blessing; in camp, the others happily commented on Nate letting me carry his pack. Part of the fun was that Nate is usually the strongest, and most confident, hiker.
Our camp on the Esplanade was my favorite. I have always liked the Esplanade with its weird hoodoos. The eroded sandstone forms convenient benches and tables. We filtered water from potholes that remained from a rain about 8 days prior. We would have had adequate water anyway, but it was a luxury to have abundant water.
Perhaps it was the cooler temperatures of the Esplanade, but we were all ravenous that evening. We were also anxious to consume everything to avoid carrying it out. We shared most of our remaining meals. When someone would ask, "What about the stroganoff (or whatever), should we cook it?" we would all reply, "Sure, might as well."
We slept without tents that night. The stars were incredible and I stayed awake as long as I could to enjoy the Milky Way. It isn't only the beauty of the canyon that takes your breath away on this hike.
Nate was stoically silent the next morning as we divided up the contents of his pack four ways. I was the only one who did not share the load. We gave him his empty pack to carry and he and Rich headed out.
I had cached an additional liter of water near the base of the Coconino. When I went slightly off-trail to retrieve it I found a 4-foot, pink Grand Canyon rattlesnake was moving slowly about 18 inches from my foot. It was not coiled at that time so I didn't feel threatened, but it unnerves me to have a close encounter. I waited for John, Cliff, and Nyal to join me so they could see Pinkie. The snake never did rattle. Cliff informed us that this pink snake is found only at the Grand Canyon (and perhaps in Utah) and is pretty laid-back for a rattlesnake.
A few yards further up the trail we met a ranger coming down. As he checked our permit he reported that Nate was ill, but still climbing and was confident he would make it up through the Coconino and Toroweap. The ranger told us we were fortunate to see the pink rattlesnake as they are fairly common, but rarely spotted. He was going to look for it when he left us.
I was slow going up the Coconino, but we caught up with Rich and Nate before we topped out. The approximately half mile of trail along the rim, that was so short on the way in, seemed to go on and on and on. Thanks to Cliff's fancy, new cooler we had cold beers, sodas, and water waiting for us at the trailhead.
I would like to blame much of my difficulties on my small size, but Rich, who is not a great deal bigger than I am, and also in his 70s, had no problems at all. He is from Salt Lake City and was able to hike all summer. We Phoenix folks had a nasty summer and it was difficult to get in shape with the awful heat. Cliff trained hard anyway, but the rest of us, while in good shape, were not in top shape.
I find I am already forgetting the toil and remembering only the beauty. Don't forgo this hike because of your age or your size; do all the research, lighten your pack as much as possible, and get in the best shape you possibly can. If I had been in better condition I would have enjoyed the hike more and struggled less. Even without the heat, this is not a hike to take lightly. |
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