FIXIN’ TO DIE

“Feelin' funny in my mind Lord, I believe I'm fixin' to die
Feelin' funny in my mind Lord, I believe I'm fixin' to die
Well I don't mind dyin' but I hate to leave my children cryin'

Well I'm walkin' kinda funny Lord, I believe I'm fixin' to die, fixin' to die
Yes I'm walkin' kinda funny Lord, I believe I'm fixin' to die
Fixin' to die, fixin' to die
Well I don't mind dyin' but I hate to leave my children cryin'”

From “Fixin’ to Die” by Bob Dylan

We had a lot of great adventures planned during our 3 week trip, but I was most excited about a solo backpacking trip in the Grand Canyon. It would be a three day trip from the North Rim down to Thunder River, Tapeats Creek, Deer Creek, and the Colorado River. The hike promised an abundance of waterfalls and swimming holes in the middle of one of the harshest deserts in the country. Thunder River is one of the main attractions. The river erupts out of a series of caves in the side of a cliff and immediately roars over a massive waterfall. The river keeps dropping from there, falling over countless waterfalls and cascades as it drops 1,200’ over 1/2 mile to its confluence with Tapeats Creek. The next valley to the west, Deer Creek, is magical, too. Deer Creek Springs features a stream emerging from a cave and freefalling into the middle of a beautiful redrock chamber. Downstream it carves a spectacular slot canyon full of waterfalls. Deer Creek ends in dramatic fashion, as it erupts from its slot canyon to freefall 180’ into the Colorado River.

Deer Creek Falls is a popular stop on commercial rafting trips down the Colorado River. Some of those trips even offer guided hikes up to the slot canyon, Deer Creek Springs, and even Thunder River. However, it is a lightly traveled area in general, particularly in the heat of midsummer. I figured I would enjoy a lot of solitude during my adventure.

The Park Rangers were less enthusiastic about my plans. My initial backcountry permit request resulted in a series of emails. They strongly encouraged me to reschedule my hike for the Fall, or the following Spring. They warned me that temperatures in the inner canyon frequently exceeded 120 degrees on afternoons in June. I actually had to send them a resume detailing my experience with solo backpacking and desert backpacking. Eventually my permit was grudgingly approved. At the end, the rangers basically told me that I was probably going to die. This is what was printed on the permit:

Warning: Hiking solo means you have nobody to help should you run into trouble. AGGRESSIVE ITINERARY! HIKER INSISTED ON ITINERARY.

The rangers had a point. The hikes from the North Rim to both Thunder River and Deer Creek are completely dry and shadeless. Both destinations are more than 10 miles from the North Rim, on rocky, rarely maintained trails. Early starts would be mandatory to ensure that I reached the relative safety of those streams. Even with an early start, there were no guarantees. What if I sprained an ankle or got bit by a rattlesnake in the middle of the desert? It would be impossible to survive for long in the heat, with only the water I was able to carry.

I seriously considered switching to a less risky trip. Ultimately though, the lure of one of the wildest and most scenic corners of the Grand Canyon was too strong to overcome. I decided to go for it. I came up with a solid plan:

Night 0 (the night before I started the hike): Christy and I would car camp at Indian Hollow Campground, which is just a short walk from the trailhead. That would enable me to get started before first light, and it would allow Christy to sleep in.

Day 1: Backpack from the North Rim to Surprise Valley, Thunder River, and Upper Tapeats Creek Campsite. Listed at 11.6 miles, though that is understated. The actual distance is probably closer to 13 miles. The descent would be 3,850’. Start before first light and arrive before noon.

Night 1: Upper Tapeats Creek Campsite

Day 2: Backpack from Upper Tapeats Creek Campsite back up to Surprise Valley and then down to Deer Creek and the Colorado River. Start early and spend the afternoon at Deer Creek and the Colorado River. That evening after it cools off, backpack up to Surprise Valley. 8-9 miles, with elevation gain of 2,850’.

Night 2: Camp in Surprise Valley.

Day 3: Backpack from Surprise Valley back up to the North Rim, leaving at first light and arriving before noon. 10 miles, elevation gain of 2,650’.

While I was backpacking, Christy would be car camping at Sand Hollow State Park near Hurricane, Utah. She was going to spend a couple of days mountain biking.

We left Escalante, Utah late Monday afternoon. Our plan had been to drive to Indian Hollow Campground and cook dinner there. We were behind schedule as usual though, so we stopped in Kanab, Utah at a Mexican Restaurant. We picked it mainly because Mexican Restaurants are always fast. This one wasn’t. It worked out ok though, as the drive from Kanab to Indian Hollow was much faster than what Google Maps predicted. Most of that drive was down a (mostly) decent dirt road. We averaged a little better than the 10mph that Google Maps anticipated. The only challenge was dodging the dozens of jackrabbits that were running across the road.

We arrived at Indian Hollow well after dark. The campground is a bit confusing, particularly in the dark. Apparently there are only 2 or 3 actual campsites there. One was occupied by an RV. We eventually found a vacant site and pitched the tent. It was actually a little chilly up on the North Rim, above 6,000’. After several days hiking in the desert it felt pretty good.

The campground features the usual amenities (fire pit with grill, picnic table, outhouse), but it is free. Of course there is no water, but the same campground in Colorado would have been at least $20.

We were setting up the tent when our neighbor in the RV walked over and asked if we were camping. That was….odd. What else would we be doing exactly?

I was completely disorganized, and it was after 11pm when I finished loading my pack. That wasn’t ideal, since I would be getting up before first light the next morning. I slept well though, thanks to the cool evening.

THUNDERSTRUCK

The alarm went off at 5am (Mountain Daylight Time. A reminder – we ignored Arizona Time on this trip, even when we were in Arizona.) Fortunately I didn’t have much to pack. I wasn’t brining the tent, my sleeping bag, or my pad. I was pretty sure I could get by with a hammock and a lightweight sheet (actually a soft shower curtain). Other than that, I was carrying the essentials, plus a fair bit of food and a lot of water. I didn’t even bring a stove or fuel on this trip. Water is heavy, but not optional. So my strategy was to compensate for the water weight by skimping pretty much everywhere else.

I slipped out of the tent without waking Christy, shouldered my pack, turned on my headlamp, and started down the road. It was perhaps a ½ mile to the end of the road and the trailhead. I picked up the trail there, and climbed briefly to the rim of the Grand Canyon. The trail followed the rim for a good distance, which was a nice way to start the hike. The sky was just beginning to brighten, allowing for a dim view of the canyons below. It was a spectacular way to start the adventure, as the morning gradually lightened and views expanded to encompass the enormity of the Grand Canyon. It was nice to be able to see where I was walking without my headlamp, too. Still, while I appreciated the light, I knew that the sun was not my friend on this trip. I found myself hoping that it would stay behind the cliffs to the east for as long as possible.

The initial descent was steep and rocky and hard on the knees. There were lots of tight switchbacks, but some were littered with rockfall, which made for difficult footing. It was a relief when the grade finally eased. However, there was no rest for the weary. The next several miles looked easy on the map. The trail contours around numerous gullies and ridges, maintaining roughly the same elevation all the way to the junction with the Bill Hall Trail. The Bill Hall Trail offers a shorter, but much steeper approach. Unfortunately this stretch of trail is crowded with scraggy bushes that tore at my bare legs and arms. This trail doesn’t get much use or maintenance, as the Bill Hall approach is more popular. As a result, those damn bushes have grown over long stretches of the trail. On more than one occasion I got into a fight with a particularly evil bush. By the time I left 3 days later, there were a lot of mangled bushes and one mangled trekking pole.

This part of the trail is on the Esplande, a plateau between the rim and the inner canyon. Aside from the overgrown sections, the Esplande offers a delightful hike, with relatively easy walking on slickrock and continuous views. After a couple of miles I stopped on a particularly dramatic cliff for a breakfast of cold granola cereal. A bit later I passed a big rock with a shady chamber underneath. It was an ideal spot to cache some water for the hike back up. I left a bottle there, which lightened up my pack a bit.

It was another mile or so to the Bill Hall Trail junction. When I arrived I was nearly an hour behind schedule. How could that be? This was alarming, as I needed to stay on pace to make it down to the Thunder River before the heat became excessive. My information stated that the hike to the Bill Hall Trail junction was 5 miles, but my GPS showed that I had already hiked more than 6 miles. I suspect that the other distances are longer than advertised, too. However, I stopped recording my GPS track early on the first day, as I didn’t want to deplete my phone’s battery. If you are planning a hike here, I would just add 15% to all of the advertised distances to get an accurate estimate.

The next part of the hike on the Esplande really was delightful. It was mostly a pleasant stroll along slickrock benches with expansive views. That eventually ended though, and the next descent began. A steep, rocky section of trail lead down into Surprise Valley. I’m not sure what the actual surprise is. Probably it is the fact that you find yourself down in a waterless, shadeless bowl, surrounded by boulders, ridges and cliffs, despite being nearly 2000’ above the Colorado River. It is, quite literally, an oven. And I arrived there a solid hour behind schedule, thanks to understated distances and scraggly bushes.

It was hot in the oven. Really hot. And to be honest, heat doesn’t really bother me as much as it bothers most people. But this was most definitely unpleasant.

I hunted around a bit for a place to cache more water. That was my original plan – cache water on the way down and pick it up on the hike out. However, I had second thoughts. I had plenty, but it was really hot. On the spur of the moment, I changed plans. I could carry plenty up with me the next morning from Thunder River. And it would be cold. I decided to hold onto what I had. You know, just in case I needed it.

I didn’t need the surplus for drinking, but I dumped a pint over my head several times over the next couple of miles. I climbed out of Surprise Valley to the east and descended towards Thunder River. Before long I heard a distant roar. The sound was startling, in a place where a lizard scurrying across a rock passes for loud. I began the descent into the Thunder River Canyon, and then I saw it – a raging torrent of whitewater erupting from the side of a redrock cliff to tumble down into a stunning jungle of greenery far below.

It couldn’t be real. The heat was blistering, blinding. Was I contemplating the ultimate relief, or the ultimate mirage?

I continued the descent, turning the corner of a switchback. There it was – Thunder River, bursting out of a cave in the side of a cliff. The desire to be in that cave, in that water, was overwhelming.

Luckily, there was a well beaten path leading to it. I followed a spur trail into an improbable forest created by the waterfall itself. As I neared the river, the temperature dropped. 5 degrees, 10. 20. 30, even. It was almost chilly in the forest, in the spray of that raging waterfall that was escaping from the vast system of caves under the North Rim of the Grand Canyon.

I immersed myself in the spray, dunked my head in the river, and surrendered to the flow. I was thunderstruck.

And the sound! After hiking for hours without hearing anything louder than a whisper, the Thunder River was a relentless torrent of rage. But a pleasant, constant torrent – one I could listen to all day.

I thought about lounging there all afternoon. Ultimately though, I decided to continue down to camp, knowing that the river would be my companion for the remainder of the journey.

Thunder River starts as a massive waterfall emerging from a series of caves in the side of a cliff. It doesn’t let up much during its descent to its confluence with Tapeats Creek. I enjoyed views of several of those waterfalls along the way, though there were even more hidden in the canyon below. I worked my way down to the hillside above the confluence before continuing on the trail along Tapeats Creek. Before long I reached the official camping area. I rejected the first couple of spots due to the lack of shade and suitable trees for a hammock. The last one was a little better, but challenging. There was one stout tree offering shade, but not much to extend the hammock to. I considered multiple options, before going with a clump of scrubby trees on the far side of the campsite. They weren’t sturdy, but somehow they held my weight.

That afternoon was splendid. It was `120 degrees on the trail, but in the 90’s in my campsite, and cooler closer to the creek. I sat in the creek, entertained the lizards, and fought off the squirrels. By early afternoon I was ready for the hammock. As a rule, I don’t nap. It just doesn’t work for me. If I nap, I wake feeling worse than when I started. Also, I can’t sleep when it is hot. By hot, I mean over 70 degrees. My hammock was partially in the shade and near the creek, but the temperature was still in the 90’s there. I gave myself a good soak in the 60 degree cave water to cool my core temperature before jumping in the hammock.

I had the most amazing nap ever. Despite the heat, I was exceptionally comfortable. Chalk it up to the pre-dawn start and the exertion. The last thing I remember was gazing up at the massive redrock cliffs surrounding me, and listening to the roar of the river nearby.

I woke up a couple of hours later roasting in the sun. I stumbled down to the creek and cooled myself again. Then I returned to the hammock for another spectacular nap.

Prior to the trip, I considered hiking up Tapeats Creek to its source – a massive cave. It is several miles upstream from the campsite to the cave, but the ambitious part of me thought it might be doable due to the proximity of the creek. The realistic part of me had a nap. Next time though….two nights at Upper Tapeats Creek, with a little adventure in between.

After my second nap it was time to go. I was determined to spend the evening exploring Thunder River. I headed upstream, to the confluence with Tapeats Creek. From there I went up the river. I found one waterfall after another, each one more spectacular than the previous one. Eventually I ran out of daylight and headed back to camp.

OH DEER

I got an early start the next morning, though perhaps not early enough. I packed up and hiked back up to the base of the main falls on Thunder River. There I took a little side trip for more photos. My early start wasn’t nearly early enough though. That great ball of fire rises above the cliffs early in the Grand Canyon, and the light was already marginal for photos.

From there I climbed up to Surprise Valley. I hiked through, and spotted an ideal campsite at the base of a giant boulder. That was my goal for the night. It was only mid-morning though. I hiked on, and worked my way down a dry valley towards Deer Creek. This stretch went on and on – much longer than expected. It was rough, too, with a lot of boulder scrambling. Eventually I found myself above impressive cliffs on the car side of the canyon below.

Those cliffs were impossible to ignore. The trail continued down canyon, but I followed a path into a massive redrock chamber. There I found sheer cliffs, split by a stream freefalling from the mouth of a cave. This stream is tiny compared to the Thunder River, but just as beautiful. It is just another little slice of paradise in this remote corner of the Grand canyon.

After a long break I hiked out of the cavern and rejoined the trail. I followed it down to the main branch of Deer Creek – Deer Creek Springs is actually on a tributary. I rock hopped across and followed an easy trail past the Deer Creek campsites and on to The Promenade. The Promenade starts with some minor cascades and deep pools. Beyond, the creek begins carving a spectacular slot canyon. It drops over one waterfall after another as its slot canyon deepens. The trail follows the rim of the slot canyon, initially on broad, flat slickrock benches, allowing for great views of the canyon and its waterfalls.

First, I stopped at a great swimming hole to cool off. I was just leaving when a huge group of hikers arrived. They were on a rafting trip, and had just hiked up from the river. After two days of absolute solitude, this was rather disorienting. I ended up chatting with a couple of the guides. Their trip is fancy, as it features a string quartet that plays music at select points in the canyon. They also offer several guided hikes along the way, including the hike to The Promenade and Deer Creek Springs. The guides were nice guys, and one of them was from Asheville. They offered to take my trash out for me, which was a really nice gesture. I didn’t have much, but it was still nice to avoid having to carry it out.

I followed the trail above the slot canyon as the creek gradually disappeared into the depths. Eventually the trail turned away from the canyon before descending steep switchbacks on a cliff face above the Colorado River. This final descent featured spectacular views of the river and the inner canyon. A long, tedious descent finally brought me to the river. There were a dozen or more rafts on the beach, and another large group of people lounging about and cavorting in the plunge pool of Deer Creek Falls. Deer Creek ends in spectacular fashion, as it emerges from its slot canyon to freefall 180’ into a huge pool below. The water is icy, and the spray is incredible. It was fun watching people try to walk into the deluge. Some people managed to get pretty close, but everyone was turned back before reaching the main flow. I made an attempt, too, with similar results.

I hung out at the base of the falls for a couple of hours. I was determined to wait until the light was good for photos. This was a slow process, as the shadows gradually crept across the face of the falls. Eventually the large group of rafts (actually 2 different groups, as it turns out) left. Another, smaller group arrived, but they only stayed briefly. This tour was interesting, as it was focused on bonus hiking. They actually offer a guided hike up Tapeats Creek and Thunder River, through Surprise Valley, and down Deer Creek. The rafts float down the river from Tapeats Creek to Deer Creek and pick up the hikers there. As a result, backtracking isn’t necessary.

This group arrived at the same time as a solo backpacker. He had hiked down from the North Rim in one day. He arrived early in the evening, meaning that he hiked through Surprise Valley in the afternoon heat. Yikes! He was an interesting character. He asked me if there was a trail following the river downstream. I hadn’t heard of one, as the river passes through a deep canyon hemmed in by cliffs. Was he making up his trip on the fly? That seemed like a crazy, dangerous way to explore the Grand Canyon.

The light finally improved enough to allow for photos. I took a few before hiking back up the switchbacks to the slot canyon. I took many more photos there, as the light had been terrible there earlier in the day. Unfortunately the good light didn’t last long. I had trouble pulling myself away from the slot canyon, and when I finally did darkness was threatening. I reached Deer Creek Springs at last light and stopped to filter water. That meant climbing back up the roughest stretch of trail in the dark. I considered camping at Deer Creek, as there wasn’t anyone around. That would’ve made my hike out longer and more difficult the following day though. Ultimately I decided to continue back up to Surprise Valley so I’d have a head start on the hike out the following morning.

The climb up from the springs was demanding in the dark. I had to pull myself up countless boulders, and one traverse across an exposed ledge was thrilling in the dark. The most exciting moment came when I encountered a huge scorpion in the middle of the trail. It was nearly as large as my palm! I took a photo of it, and it suddenly came scurrying down the trail towards me, its pinchers opening and closing. Yikes! I backed away and stepped off the trail to let it pass.

I reached my campsite 10 minutes later. There are no official campsites in Surprise Valley, but I’d already picked this flat, smooth spot at the base of a huge boulder. There wasn’t any place to hang a hammock anywhere in Surprise Valley, so I would have to sleep on the ground. I really regretted not bringing my sleeping pad. It was an uncomfortable, but brief night on the rocky ground. I wrapped myself in my sheet, but I slept poorly despite my exhaustion. The hard ground and the memory of the scorpion kept me from relaxing all night.

WATER

“Would you kill for a glass when the sand fills up your throat?

Water, water

Would you twist a knife in the back of the man who stole your

Water, water?”

From “Water” by moe.

I woke at first light. Packing only took a few minutes. The hike up to the Esplande was a steady grind in the coolness of early morning. I traversed the Esplande to the Bill Hall Trail junction. There, I noticed several gallon jugs of water under a small overhang. It was in plain sight to anyone on the trail. I went to the trouble of hiding all of the water I stashed during the hike. You wouldn’t really expect someone to steal water from your cache – that could potentially constitute murder. Still, if someone was desperate enough….I was shocked to see all of that water in plain view.

From there I endured the long hike back through those scraggly bushes. I picked up my water cache, which I didn’t need. It was getting hot on the final climb back up to the rim, but at least I was nearly finished! I enjoyed some final, expansive views of the Grand Canyon before leaving the rim and hiking through the woods to the trailhead. I was over an hour behind schedule, largely because the trail was longer than advertised. Christy wasn’t at the trailhead, which was a little alarming. I hiked down the road and found her at the campground. She had just left the trailhead and driven to the campground to wait in the shade. She’d been worried since I was running late, but greeted me with a cold beer! She’d enjoyed a couple of rides on a rented mountain bike while I was backpacking.

We drove back to Kanab and stopped for lunch. Then we drove a couple more hours back to Sand Hollow Campground near Hurricane. Christy already had camp set up there. The campground is shadeless, except for a canopy above the picnic table. The temperature was in the triple digits, so we hung hammocks under the canopy rather than using the tent. We spent the rest of the afternoon lounging on the beach by the lake. That enabled us to cool off in the water on a regular basis.

Continue reading about our trip as we dayhike Kanarra Canyon in southwestern Utah.

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