It’s a Small World

Totally freaked. That’s how I felt when Heath calmly informed me he had purchased an Escalante backcountry permit for May 5-7. Oh sure, I had said I wanted to hike it, and I did, but maybe with someone else’s body than my own. I also told him I needed a year to get fit, and here he was giving me 3 lousy months, with one of those months being spent overseas. Not exactly prime training, tho it takes very little to be better training grounds than Iroquois, SD. I may or may not have kicked and fussed a little, but as per usual I started on the “the plan”. The first thing to do is always order some mildly expensive hiking gear. Maybe two or three things in fact. It sets the mood.

This is followed by boring weeks of wearing a loaded backpack and going up and down your own small staircase, the staircase leading to the local football field crows nest, the Huron Tigers Softball stadium and the silly little trail leading up and over the old railroad bed behind our park. Up and down ceaselessly until you are bored out of your mind and forget about your pack. So not fun. So necessary.

If you haven’t read Heath’s post about the Escalante Route,you should probably read it now. It explains the trail much better than I can and to try all over again would be redundant.

Lipon Point > Cardenas

Packs on, courage high and we’re headed down the trail. Our starting time was 10:50am. 10 minutes ahead of schedule. Not shabby for the Tiltons! This time it’s Heath and I and Zach and Darwin and Kim and their 18yr old Dalen. Darwin, Heath and Zach had all done the hike before so they knew what we were getting into. The weather was perfect. Partly sunny with a high of 71*. A bit of a breeze, but that just made it feel all the more comfortable.

The first three miles are quite scrambly. You can see the trail but are constantly stepping over big, medium and small rocks that sometimes roll and rock. It’s like going on a 4×4 trail that’s just a very bumpy road with nothing technical or breathtaking. It just gets a little old. A snake went rocketing across the path in front of me which caused a small adrenaline spike. As we got deeper the rocks were less and we did more gravel skidding. Three other hikers passed us and we exchanged cheerful conversation. They were headed to Tanner Rapids for night, we planned on going on to Cardenas.

Lunch was eaten on some big rocks somewhere. Heath had premixed a baggie of peanut butter and jelly and he squished it onto a tortilla to eat. This is not aesthetically pleasing. I don’t recommend it for public eating. At one stop I had to wrap the bottom of my big toes. They were getting warm and threatening to sprout large blisters. In spite of my efforts, I clearly didn’t have the perfect sock/shoe combo yet. Disgusting.

Five or so hours in we finally came to the river, with it’s stunning blue green water and rapids. We lingered a while before heading along it towards our campsite. The guys had planned to camp where they had last time, which was about a mile short of the official Cardenas campground. The horror stories you read of rats at these campgrounds had put the fear in them and since they had no trouble last time we were gonna do a repeat. But when we got there not one of us was ready to stop, so we pressed on. If the weather is good and you have time and energy, there is no good reason to call a halt. The canyon has plenty of difficult spots and intense heat so you go while the going is good.

We found a large crowd of rafters at the campground. Their motor rafts were pulled up to the beach, tents and cots were tucked into every little spot and the cooks were busy cooking for the guests. Honestly, it didn’t look in the least bit primitive and some of the folks were downright old! They seemed quite interested in us and I heard one woman shriek “Oh look! Real Hikers” Yes indeed! We were real alright. Probably smelled quite real too by that time. The guides told us there was a good spot just downriver with a nice sandy beach, so we pressed on finding the spot perfectly suited to our needs. Shade, water, sand and four red buckets left by the GC Conservation Corps to water the new trees planted there. We made good use of the buckets, turning them upside down for chairs, using them to dip water out of the river to filter into our reservoirs and using them to wash our feet before crawling into our sleeping bags. Zach set his tent up right on the beach where he had a 360 view of the inner canyon, the stars and a real close up of the river. We tucked ours into a little bush that had mice running around in it.

We set up camp, did some wading and then all gathered around our tent to eat our supper. Jackets were pulled out as it was a touch chilly and occasionally we’d hear the slightly inebriated laughs of the rafters. Darkness fell and with it came the tiredness. A happy, relieved tiredness. I had passed day one and it had been totally enjoyable! Granted I hadn’t been worried about day one, but you never know. It was still a relief to know that 1/3 of the hike would not be straight from a nightmare.

I may have had a nightmare that night. I woke up thinking a rat was trying to scratch its way into the tent and did some wild hitting and battling on the wall to chase it away. Heath seemed to think I wasn’t reasonable. Who knows. If it was there, it didn’t get in. Regardless, I went right back to sleep. There are worse things than rats.

Rain woke us another time but stopped right after Heath gave in and put on the rain flap.

Cardenas > Hanse Rapids

We woke at six and dragged ourselves out of our comfy beds and back into our sweaty clothes. I was happy to realize sometime in there that I hadn’t even thought about my legs yet! Three cheers for those boring stair hours! By the time we’d packed up, eaten breakfast, waved the rafters off downriver and filtered some more water, it was 8:30am already. Time seems to really speed when one is trying to reorganize a backpack. Somehow everything you want ends up at the smack bottom. For those who asked, my pack weight was right at 30lbs. A bit more going down, but as you eat through your food and keep lathering on sunscreen it lightens up. Today I am wearing two pair of socks. The blisters have arrived with a vengeance, so I spent quality time with the moleskin and tape. Here’s to optimism. My one and only luxury down here is the pair of flips I stuck into my pack last minute. It’s been totally worth carrying the 4ozs just to let my feet breathe without worrying about the jabby thorns all over. As we straggled out of the campground, another big raft pulled up and disgorged a bunch of workers, come to pull weeds and water trees. This particular group was spending 17 days going downriver, stopping at the sites to do maintenance. Not a bad job!

The day was beautiful and relentless. It started with an intense climb and a neat shortcut compliments of Dalen. He found a shorter trail, but it so happened to lead up to the top of a steep bump where we had panoramic views and saw the walls of an old house of sorts. We could see the actual trail winding reasonably below us, but as we are real hikers we had to take the hard path. I loved day two. It was full of the hiking I absolutely love. Trails scratched onto the edge of steep hillsides, where there is nothing to stop your fall if you go, beautiful river spread out below you, breathtaking and gravity defying viewpoints to stand on and watch rafts and and kayaks run the rapids below. We may have had the trail mostly to ourselves, but it was a busy place down there. An old mine shaft disappeared into the hill opposite us, the tailings a white streak below it. Heath and I kept assessing the exposure rating on the trail. He thought exposure meant that if you slip you would fall over an edge. I thought it was based on how hard it was to find a suitable outdoor toilet spot. Regardless, we both found a lot of exposure. It’s what makes the trail so fun. I searched the web for images that show a little bit what the reviews mean when they talk about exposure and found a few examples.

We were back down to the river for lunch and sat on rocks in the shade while listening to the music of rapids. Two large motorized rafts ran them as we sat there and man it looked lame. Someone on one boat tried to pump his fist and cheer but the crowd didn’t seem to catch the enthusiasm. Rightly so. A few got a little splashed, but those things are so huge and the engine overpowers the water so it looked like they did a little bouncing and splashing and that’s it. Woo HOO.

After lunch we skirted the edge of a deep slot canyon, following it inland until we eventually entered it at walked back down it and out to the river again. Nothing like a 1.3 mile jaunt inland just to pop out at the river bank once more. Several rafts were pulled up and some of the rafters were hiking up the canyon. We met a couple guys right after dropping down into it, and the first thing they asked me was “where’s the 7-eleven?” Luckily I could assure them it was right up the hill and around the bend. It wasn’t a very nice question cause it got me thinking about cold drink. I was getting rather sick of warm LMNT water by that time. Shudder.

Finally, finally we reached the Papago wall and slide that we had all been thinking about for the entire hike. The two allegedly tough spots. I wasn’t worried about the wall, cause scrambling up stuff is easy, but I had not taken into consideration that I would have 30 pounds on my back throwing my center of balance massively off. It’s a broad wall without a marked way up so we all attacked it our own way. I was halfway up, clinging on with my fingers in good grippy spots, my feet on a nice foot wide ledge when I all at once sorta freaked out. I couldn’t see a soul, was feeling tippy and didn’t know if I could truly haul myself up. So I yelled at Heath to at least stand at the top where I could see him. Eventually he ambled over and I continued my uphill swarm. It was fine after that. It really isn’t dangerous at all, so that was an unnecessary nervous twitch. We continued up a ways till the Tight Squeeze or whatever it’s called, some tight little area you wedge your way through and drag yourself out of on top. Spectacular Views! And then it’s the stupid slide. Weirdly, this one didn’t bother me. Basically you pick your way down a long rock slide till the beach far below. There’s definitely a best path to take and luckily our men knew it. The slide is fairly unstable, and the little rocks want to roll out from under you, but occasionally there’s a big one to grasp and slow your general trajectory. We had to space ourselves out so as not to roll rocks on each other’s heads. That seemed like about the worst threat. Otherwise you just go slow, take time to find stable footing and eventually you’re down.

From there it was a mile to our campsite. A mile that made me a little mad. I guess the adrenaline was gone and it just seemed so unnecessary to stumble over rocks, scrunch through deep sand and scramble through silly little bushes. It was hot. It was long. It was boring. There was probably a bug.

And then we reached camp and the river. The beautiful river right above Hanse Rapids, and a beautiful campground. I dropped my pack and somehow just ended up walking right into the river. I took down my hair and let water flow over my head. My face was white with residual salt and it all flowed off, cooling, refreshing, beautiful. When I eventually wandered back to camp, the rest were putting up tents. How responsible. I puttered around helping, and by the time suppertime rolled around everyone had been swimming.

The roar of the rapids was beautiful camp music. The pink and brown lizards cruising all over our campsite made me cheerful and my laborious foot taping had worked. My feet didn’t even feel butchered. We had arrived around 4:30, so had plenty of time to relax, wash out stinky socks and in general have a lovely time. The evening was warm, almost too warm, but no one felt like complaining.

We pitched our tent on top of some thorns clearly, as my air mattress gave up in the night. I was tired enough I didn’t care. Also, day 2 had been such a roaring success I felt really mellowed. A plunge in the cold Colorado will do that.

Hanse Rapids > Grandview Point

The big scary day. Have I mentioned I really hate hiking uphill? I just can’t like it much. It’s so up ish. But, the spirit was willing. So was the flesh. It was supposed to get hot so we decided to plan to start at 6 and shoot for 6:30. That’s exactly how it worked. Loaded and ready, we headed out at 6:30, ready to tackle the monster.

Up. The trail immediately and unapologetically went up. Up and up and up. One foot in front of the other. Look back and gaze at the view. 1200 ft of elevation 4 miles later we came to a flat plateau that in fact sloped gently downhill as it skirted Hanse Creek Canyon. Can a plateau skirt a canyon? I don’t know. But it was big and open and flat and the canyon fell away on one side of it. Six and a half miles in we dropped down into the actual creek bed and found the teeny trickle of Hanse Spring. Life! Water is so critical here. We spent some time refilling our reserves, then walked a little further down the creek to a tiny little shaded nook with rocks to sit on and a sparkling pool full of tadpoles and clear leaves. It was early, but the perfect spot to eat lunch so we did. We were halfway up distance wise, but knew the real grind was ahead of us. We could also feel the day heating up, which wasn’t too great.

Shouldering our burdens once again, we made a plan to stop every time we gained 500ft of elevation and take a break, and headed off. Now we were getting deeper into walls and out of the breeze and things were getting warm. The first 500ft passed and I glibly said, “Tough, but not torture.”

The next 200ft passed and all I once I realized that this looked like a very good place to set up a permanent home. Maybe never move again. But still, the legs kept going and we kept climbing. At the 500ft stop, which just happened to be by an old mine shaft, I truly felt knackered. I staggered into the shaft, where it was a little cooler, sat down on a rock and felt like dying. Too tired to take off my pack. Too tired to eat. Too tired to drink. Too tired to help Heath fill his water bottle. Too tired to barf, tho I kinda felt like it. As this was not my first rodeo, I recognized the first signs of heat stress and knew I needed to sit still and cool off. I forced myself to drink, and after a while even eat a few bites of trail mix. Swallowing my pride, I asked Heath if he would carry two of my liters of water and he cheerfully complied. I also said that I would have to stop every 300ft. Wimp. It’s amazing what 10 or 15 minutes of rest and shade will do. We headed off once more, this time up some perfectly gorgeous switchbacks right up a cliff face! Probably about my favorite section of the whole trail.

300ft was perfect, and we all were able to enjoy the views without thinking coffins. And views there are. Steep valleys, distant Colorado, high cliffs, wild flowers galore and lots of lizards. Sometimes the trail was a narrow causeway between two steep canyons, and sometimes a stone paved path that seemed like something Apostle Paul would have walked on. It would go very swiftly from a four foot wide cobbled section to a tiny gravel trail that would have you clinging to rocks to skirt around corners. I couldn’t figure out any rhyme or reason to it. And then all at once you would have to scramble up over thigh high steps, only to once more be on a lovely path. Whatever.

I began to wonder if there actually was a summit, or if that was a myth. Then at one of the last stops, as we gazed across the broad expanse of canyon, I pointed out the teeny ribbon of river way in the distance. “Look at that” I told the group. “That’s Tanner Rapids near where we camped the first night” Darwin replied, and I was blown away. I had no idea I had walked that far. No idea that my legs even could walk that far! It was so invigorating and encouraging that strength flowed into my weary limbs and I headed for the summit with my head held high, taking peeks at the river when the trail allowed. Wow, wow and wow. And then, the TOP! And lots of clean people. Like squeaky clean, which cannot be said of the toilets up there! I waved my hiking poles in the air and whooped with joy! Excellent, fantastic, marvelous! I had not only survived, I had actually enjoyed all but a few measly minutes. That is no small miracle, and most definitely an answer to prayer! Slow we were, but we got up! It took us exactly 10 hours to do the 12 miles up. Ten hot, tough miles where you summoned up your grit and inner strength and kept moving.

The men went to get the car from Lipon Trailhead and I tootled around, emptying trash out of my pack, dumping extra water, removing my socks and thinking about food. Lots of food. And cooooold drink. Occasional waves of feeling a little yuck would wash over, but nothing too bad.

We decided to celebrate with a giant supper at a Mexican restaurant in Tusyan. But first we had to shower, for if we didn’t we would surely empty the place out. Mather Campground has scuzzy showers where you can take a 5 minute shower for $2.50, so we all got presentable and then headed out. Man real food was good! Man the cold coke hit the spot! Man I was so tired that once my eyes truly crossed a little.

Bed was ridiculously soft that night. I was ridiculously relieved and exhilarated. We showered ridiculously often in the 12 hours we were in Williams. I woke up lit and ravenous so found a place selling breakfast quesadillas for Zach and I. Heath wasn’t hungry. Just wanted milk. All day I felt unstoppable, right till we got on our evening flight to FSD and happened to sit in front of a young child who absolutely loved to do short piercing screams. No reason, just liked to hear his own voice. 2.5 hours of that was enough. I have been exhausted ever since.

Are my legs sore? No. A little tired and swollen, but not sore. What a blessing! And what a memory. Tough, beautiful, totally worth it.

P.S. Our family averaged 6.5 liters of water consumed/person/day. That’s amazingly much. Seems we worked hard.