Article by Dawson Hunter

Hiking the Grand Canyon is always full of surprises and this spring's expedition was certainly no exception. It was a super fun trip. We never stopped laughing the whole week. As Dave, Jan, Art, Ryan, Gregg, Christine, Shelly, Skippy and I slipped into our seats at the I-MAX, Shelly mentioned that some of us were looking at this Grand Canyon show for the 14th time.....but it never seems to lose its punch. The first night we crashed at the Mather Campgrounds, setting up camp just in time for the three inch snowfall which accumulated intermittently all night, drifting in 30 mph hour gusts as the temperature hovered around the freezing mark. In the morning we were cheered by the occasional blue patches in the cold early morning sky as we stowed our tents and readied our gear for the hike. Rim Drive was like a skating rink and it was touch and go as Woody inched the van with great care the 15 miles to the Lipan Point and the Tanner trail head. The frigid 40 mph winds that greeted us at the point hastened our departure down the trail to seek refuge in the anticipated warmth below. The first mile or so was a bit slippery, especially with Tevas and running shoes but before long we were on the warmer firm ground of the Tanner Trail and complaining about other things like how sore our down-climb muscles were. The sun was in and out, and the temperature in the sixties, and although we wished it was warmer we were also thankful that it was a pleasurably cool hike down the switchbacks to Tanner Rapids. Everyone reached the river by 5 pm but not without mishap. On the way Gregg strained his knee and after applying a bandage, was able to manage with a stiff leg and a pole for support. In good spirits, we all moved on to our destination camp just inside the Palisades. Dave ferried over Gregg's pack and then returned to Tanner Falls to wait for Pete, delayed in Vegas, to catch up. We told everyone we met on the way down to look out for Pete and to let him know where we were if they saw him. Pete, who slept on the butte and caught up with us in the morning, was surprised as strangers everywhere were calling him by his first name. He felt right at home. In the morning we moved on temporarily to our usual sandy beach in the Palisades hopefully for a warm day in the sun. From the start, the group had been exercising its karma to assist Dave with his "rain thing" which we all sensed he was working hard to overcome. We would often hear him mumbling "I'm working on it. I'm working on it." We tried to understand. "Yeah!,"

Skippy yelled at the first burst of sunlight only to see it slip quickly under the next cloud. I quietly suggested to Colin that he might tone down his exuberance a little so as not to disturb while Dave's concentration. Later we moved our camp to Lava Falls and set up by the beach with a fair amount of afternoon sun. Nobody dared say a word. Next day Pete, Dave, Shelly, Art, Jan, Ryan, and Skippy left early on an 18 mile round trip day hike to the Little Colorado while I hiked with Gregg and Christine back toward Tanner Rapids to give Gregg's knee a head start on the next leg of the hike. Dave and the group made it to the Little Colorado by noon and finding it rather muddy, continued up the river visiting Beamer's Cabin and exploring the trail further than we have gone in the past. In the meantime Gregg, Christine and I had returned to our first Palisades campsite, arriving just after noon and set up our tarps as the sky did not look very friendly. Dave also noticed the thunderhead rushing toward us about the same time and quickly started the return hike to their Lava Falls Campsite. There were no happy campers that afternoon as the cold wind and rain continued until almost sunset.

We joined up again at the Rafters Beach in Cardenas the next morning under mostly sunny skies. Dave agreed that is was indeed a sunny day and that he was taking full credit for it, commenting on how hard he had to work to get it to happen. It being a relatively easy hike day, the afternoon found Skippy leading team members all over adjacent peaks looking for shortcuts for the next day's hike. Supper found no shortage of food as the stoves turned out boiling water endlessly until well after dark. Tuna fish in a plastic bag, Pete with an all-cold menu for the week, the Woods on pork jerky, Skippy on his usual 1 1/2 freeze dry meals per day, and tons and tons of gorp everywhere. The ravens did quite well this trip. Even the vultures were crashing the party. Ravens you can take at the supper table, but vultures? By the time we cleared the Unkar Rapids overlook the next morning, everyone was donning full rain gear to fight the cold and squalling precipitation. So much for the sun. Luckily it began to clear a little as we headed down toward Escalante Creek and the Lagoon. The Lagoon, witnessed by only a few rugged canyon hikers each year, was like a pristine south sea island beach. It was just after noon and the sun was slowly pushing its way out from under the clouds. Ahhhh. The warm rays, cool up-river breezes and a free afternoon on the shores of the Colorado River. Tomorrow would be the big day - The Papago Creek Crux. Not a big day in miles but a challenging 200-foot 5.1 climb up Papago Cliff to the treacherous scree field leading down to Hance Rapids. But that is tomorrow. The high waterline on the Lagoon beach reminded us how quickly the river can rise and fall, and it was unsettling to think that if we camped on the beach, an exceptional water release from the Glen Canyon Dam might launch us down-river in the dark of the night. I moved my pad to the safety of higher ground. As it were, the water by morning had actually fallen another 10 feet. We commented over hot coffee how our packs were getting lighter and our hiking muscles stronger. Even Gregg's knee was mending nicely. Not a cloud in the sky. The moon would be up near midnight. The stars were brilliant. Satellites were whizzing everywhere. I fell quickly to sleep.

The dawn sky was clear and therefore seemed to come earlier than usual. We were underway in short order, looking for the entrance to Seventy Five Mile Creek. It was so much fun as we scaled down the walls of the Creek by different routes and Dave even bushwhacked around the ledges to see if he could discover still another way. We made good time to Papago Creek and before the last of the team was in, the first hikers had already cleared the 200-foot rock climb up Papago Cliff. Little time was lost in maneuvering the scree field held together with little more than mud adobe. Very unsettling to say the least. We gathered at Cathedral Beach to enjoy a swim in the hot day sun. It was not yet lunch time and we had cleared the crux. Around 2 pm I moved on a mile or so to Hance Rapids and Red Canyon. The others followed later and by 4 pm we were heading up Red Canyon to last-water and our last camp before climbing out 4,000 feet to the North Rim. The realization that the trip was almost over was beginning to sink in. So quickly it seems to have passed. I have never seen so little water at Red Canyon Spring. Though more than ample for our needs, Shelly thought it would have been nice to have a little water hole to take a warm bath in. I saw pollywogs in the water so guessed there were frogs about. Well, this would be our last camp before the climb out and the occasion for eating all our remaining food. I found takers for my Crystal-lite and tons of candies. Pete passed out chocolate mints and Dave was trying to auction his fish jerky. At the same time, many of us were complaining about the weight of the stuff we brought and never used. The plan in the morning was for Dave and Skippy to leave for the rim early and to hitch a ride 8 miles to Lipan Point to retrieve the vehicles. They would leave as soon after 5 am as possible with the rest of the team to follow by 6 am. Mental alarm clocks set and packs ready, we drifted slowly to sleep only to soon be startled awake by the noisy resident bullfrogs. By and by, Dave suggested that one of us put an end to this incessant croaking when it stopped as abruptly as it began.

With sunrise still an hour away, Dave and Skippy were already up just as the moon was rising over the east wall of Red Canyon. Very eerie this. They were gone by 5:15 am as the rest of us were unzipping our bags. Dave and Skippy reached the rim in roughly 3 ½ hours they guessed (they did not have a watch), caught a ride immediately (a computer programmer from Hicksville) and had the cars back as Shelly got in in just under 4 hours. I came in in 4 hours and 41 minutes followed by Ryan, Jan, Woody and Pete in 5 hours 16 minutes and Gregg and Christine in 5 hours and 25 minutes. We all complimented ourselves on how well we had done. Dave and Skippy had picked up a couple of 12-packs of Cokes to toast our victory climbs with. On this beautiful sunny morning, Cokes in hand, we piled into the van and headed for the showers. Then on to some real food, and then to Vegas and the strip, Jet Skiing around Lake Mead on Neal's new Bombardier 60 mph Jet Ski, followed by the group dinner at the Excalibur with Neal as our guest.

Our thanks to Neal again as in the past for providing us with fuel, a place to store the extra seat from the van and for serving as our expert guide around town; and to Dave who sweated all the little and big things that eventually made this super fun trip possible; to Pete who worked out all the airline ticket snafus; to Art Wood for the van arrangements; and to our unsung hero, the Post Treasurer Shelly Thompson who always seems to somehow come up with the money to pay for this stuff.

Article by Dawson Hunter