Another Grand Canyon Backpack Trip - Late February, 2008

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Back to Index Page Written by Big John, dedicated to Amnon of Israel

Day One, or "Icing on the Cake"

Imagine a calendars' pages go fluttering offscreen, one by one, stopping at last on February 24th 2008. That date has a big red circle around the words "Grand Canyon." Woohoo!

For this particular backpack trip I've managed to corral a diverse six-pack of fearless foot soldiers for a shared sojourn down within the confines of the big ditch, for a full week yet! Last time around I went solo, and this time I want to retrace that fine route for the benefit of my friends. However, Mother Nature can be a "mean mother" and has had other ideas.

We arrive in the morning on the South Rim after a long dark drive thru drizzles and deep snowy fields, fetching up at the Backcountry Office where we're informed that the Hermit Trail is unreachable due to fresh unplowed snow on the eleven mile rim road. Over the last twenty four hours a major winter storm has dumped about eight inches of the white stuff here, on top of four inches from earlier in the week. Very untypical for such a dry climate, but sometimes you get lucky.

The Park Rangers are very helpful and agree to alter our itinerary so we can proceed down Bright Angel Trail, the primary corridor trail to the river and just an easy half-mile walk from the BC office. Well, it would be easy without all that wet glazed ice on the roads and sidewalks, but at least there's a strong south wind propelling us along toward the rim edge a few blocks away.

Sliding to a halt, we pose at the trailhead and then enter what looks more like a toboggan run than a major foot trail. There hasn't been time for the hiker and mule traffic to do more than create a partial trench thru the smooth white curves atop the trail ledge. That's real good tho because otherwise attempting to find the actual treadway would be interesting.

In such a predicament one might just choose to hug the inside line, but that's where all the drifts are piled up deeply, not fun. On the other hand the outside edge features potientially fatal dropoffs for most of the first two miles, so wandering out from the proper line isn't a viable option either. Occasionally we see a deep posthole in the snow where some mule's stepped over the true trail edge and found no useful hoofhold. Once or twice I nearly experience a 'sinking' feeling myself. Treking poles are great, but no substitute for quadrupalism!

As we pass well below the rim, the wind suddenly stops. Most eerie! We all mince delicately along in the muffled quiet, trying to avoid becoming statistics. This isn't helped by rare periods of brilliant sunshine down into the gorge before us. Most distracting. Soon we're getting down into the slush zone and rock-tops start appearing on the trail, making it a lot harder to stay upright. Indeed, several of the party do find themselves base-over-apex before we reach the dryer ground far below.

Ray is the worst casualty when he somehow falls on his beautifully carved walking stick, snapping it right across two boulders. It's a real shame, but Ray hardly mentions it and will continue to hike without apparent effort despite being rendered poleless. Personally I would greatly dread descending the slush with a pack and no poles; it's that difficult.

Once past the worst slush the trail rapidly improves and the final two miles to Indian Garden Camp are very easy. As expected Jasmine's knee is painful, but we plan to stay here tonight so she'll have a nice rest. All that sliding around under big packs has taxed the whole group and we don't mind a short 4.5 mile first day.

Descending the nine mile Hermit Trail would've been plenty rough even without snow, and it's quite likely we'd have been the first on the new powder, slogging knee-deep for two miles. Uh, yah. To be honest, I'm starting to see the Hermit Trail plan as a bone-headed move, and Mother Nature as my kind benefactor. Thanks Mom!

There's some extra energy sloshing around after the short descent so Mike, Jasmine, Ken and I walk out the mile and a half to Plateau point to take in the evening show. Unfortunately it's still sprinkling on and off and sunset will come soon. The sun does manage to break thru for a few moments, forming widely spaced celestial spotlights roaming across all that upright landscaping. Superb, even with moisture tinkling down. Eventually a stygian gloom settles into the Canyon and we return to camp, not sated at all but only hungering for more.

So far the trip ain't what I planned, but it ain't bad! :-)

Day Two, or Here Comes the Sun

This day dawns clear and calm. Perfecto. We all load up and proceed along down the trail to Phantom Ranch at our own paces, oogling the outrageous scenery. The rising sun glances off the heavy south rim snowpack above us and below is the promise of depth and the warmth that goes along with it.

No untoward events occur and we collectivize in a nice pair of sites at Bright Angel Campground. Actually we're supposed to squeeze into a single site, but more than half the sites are empty. We need two! If the camp were closer to full we might have faced the wrath of the rangers, but as it is, the rules fall by the wayside and we ooze casually into two adjacent sites. Muahaha!

To kill time, Ray and I try climbing the nearby Banzai Route that goes almost straight up from the campground to Utah Flats, 1000 feet above. It's pretty tiring even without packs, but we do reach the halfway point and get some neat views for our trouble. There seems to be a lot of tiny bugs flying around our heads up here. Odd. I guess Spring arrives early in these parts.

This route is well-known among the more serious canyon hikers and I've been developing a big fat itch to use it, but not this trip. Too many things can go wrong heading into a trackless area that large and wild with a mixed group. These things must be approached cautiously to avoid adventures.

The artic explorer Steffanson was said to have been asked to describe some of his "adventures" after a supposedly dry lecture on exploring, and he replied "Adventures, Madam? Adventures are a sign of incompetence!" Words to live by.

Later after dinner some of us mosey on up to the ranch saloon and partake ourselves of an unassuming-but-available table wine, discussing the next day's plans. We'll be heading along the old Clear Creek Trail just as I did last year on my solo hike.

Some may wonder, "Why a repeat?", but only Ray and I among the six have been to Clear Creek before. Besides, hiking here does not easily pall on one, not if you like to hike.

Still, next time around I'll be geared-up for heavy duty x-county travelling, regardless of the risk or difficulty. Hah! After all, testing of one's mettle does not take place on comfy old trails, no no! Crossing Echo Col last summer in the High Sierra has given me a taste for the raw places, and this immense canyon complex is mostly track-free, due to progress-inhibiting cliffs that crop up everywhere. Sheer perfection!

Day Three, or Clear Creek Redux

Next morning dawns clear and the sun shines brightly (up on the rim anyway). Eventually we all gear-up and head along the old trail to Clear Creek. Bright Angel Campground tends to stay in darkness quite late in winter so this "getting up" task is a bit of a struggle.

The 1000 foot climb up is shaded and cool, but once on the Tonto Platform the warm sunshine suffuses everyone with go-energy and the trail miles just melt away under our boots. By late afternoon we all collect at our new camp, having bonded with the Big Space all day long. Down in the Inner Gorge the sight-lines are fairly restricted but when walking along the Tonto the views are always vast and uplifting. It's my favorite place to be!

Camp is pitched in the knowledge that tomorrow is a "rest" day. No one has to do any hard work for a while, but we all know what that really means, don't we? ;-)

Day Four, or "At Loose Ends"

Today the others have their plans and I have mine. Mike, Jasmine and Ray will attempt to reach the river four miles down the canyon. Ken and I will explore up-creek separately, and Amnon (the only smart one) will remain in camp and hang about.

Soon I'm off, leaving Ken in my dust. I had planned to go the five miles up to Cheyava Falls but the darned snow just hasn't had time to melt and a hiker yesterday informed us that the falls is just a trickle. Oh well, another day...

After mucking about in the wet gorge for a while I feel the need for space, and nearby there's a likely looking slope leading right up from the creek to the Tonto Platform 300 feet above. Altho firm it's very steep, and then it gets even steeper as I rock-climb over the hard rocks capping the cliff. Finally the huge Ottoman Ampitheater comes into Full Stereographic View. Wow.

Okay, snap out of it, John! Time to begin doing the ruff stuff, just like my hero Harvey Buchart. I figure it'll be possible to travel leftward on the Tonto several miles until it reaches the trail we arrived on yesterday, just where the trail begins the plunge to the camp.

Unfortunately much of the route isn't in Harvey's writings, so I'll have to take a small chance. The first step is to cross upper Obi Creek, located inconveniently deep in a slot for a considerable distance back into the upper canyon. Eventually the slot shallows enough to get across, but now I have no "platform" at all to speak of, just a loose boulder-covered and very steep slope stretched between the impassable cliffs above above and the slot below.

It's only a mile of sideways scrambling to where the slope flattens out again, but what a mile! Boulder after boulder, and all of them loose to some degree. The granite ones in the Sierra tend to be firmly locked in place, but here the slabby broken rock and loose soil keeps me on high alert every second. My respect for old Harvey B. just shot WAY up.

Having reached the point between Obi Creek and its sister creek next door, the camp is more or less below my feet. Huh, might as well be in another world, what with all the cliffs and terraces and depth still between us.

The remainder of the hike is more fun, working on down to the next creek crossing and then on out to the trail.

Back at camp I feel all worn out from the short hike. That mile of steep traverse was what did it, yup. Kicked my butt. I can see that heavy training would be required for any serious exploration around the Canyon beyond the trail system. All my rose-colored plans for following in Harvey's footsteps are now exposed to harsh reality. Oh well, anything worth doing is worth doing right, right? Right.

Days Five, Six and Seven (in retrospect)

I would enjoy relating all the neat stuff that happened on these days, but frankly I can't. Every day was near perfect and no unusual events occured. Just fine vacationing in the Grand Canyon, nothing to see here folks, move along.

Okay, stuff did happen, but it can all be condensed into one big "Wow!". You really had to be there. Thus I won't bore you with a lot more chatter. Instead I'll let the pictures speak for themselves and just say "Until next time..."     :)

Special Thanks

Kudos to my brother Mike for taking the majority of these great pics. Thanks Mike!

Big John
March 2008