At the beginning of day 4 we were 25 miles from our first camp and the magnitude of the canyon was starting to sink in. I spent the first couple of days on the river admiring how amazing the views were, but over time I became more and more impressed at how much they just kept coming. Day upon day of incredible scenery. Always changing, always a surprise, but never dull.
The group floating downstream on the morning of our third day with many layers of rock on display
Day three was another great whitewater day, with 6 big rapids. The highlight for me was Deubendorff, a fairly long and more technical rapid. The line I took at the bottom was particularly fun, around some big holes. I later heard from the other rafters that I disappeared into the troughs of the waves a few times, only to pop back up as I crested the next one.
Dropping in to the upper section of Deubendorff Rapid
After 14 miles we stopped to drop off one of the rafts and my kayak to set up a shuttle for a big hike the next day. More about that next time. From there we floated on the remaining rafts through the granite narrows, the narrowest portion of the canyon. It was a very neat spot, with deep calm water and tight walls all around.
Looking upstream from the granite narrows
We stopped that evening just downstream of Deer Creek at OC Camp. It was a big sandy beach with tons of room for our kitchen, fire pit, sleeping areas, and a few games of bocce with some light up balls. Micky ran away with all the victories that evening, but I did get some cool photos along the way.
By my third day in the canyon I was starting to figure out some of the tricks to packing my gear and getting organized. I started putting more and more of the things I might want during the day into the kayak, and also moved a couple of things I would want after breakfast (like my toothbrush) into my ammo can that would be accessible all day. These optimizations let me get my big bags packed earlier so that I wouldn’t be holding up the group when packing the rafts.
Watching one of our rafts float downstream
One of many rock pillars visible as we drifted by
A new slot canyon in the making
By 10 AM we had pushed off and were floating downstream. This section of the river is the end of the upper granite gorge that starts about 30 miles upstream. In this section the river cuts through all of the neat layers into the oldest rock. This layer of Schists and Granites is about 1.7 billion years old, making it some of the oldest exposed rock in North America. This layer of rock is also quite hard, making the canyon quite narrow here. However, in contrast to the previous day this day was relatively quiet in the whitewater sense. We only ran one rapid rated over 5 (Walthenberg), along with a few smaller drops.
The moon sinking towards the rock shelf above us
Still following those rafts downstream with incredible views of the towering Redwall
In the early afternoon we arrived at the day’s main attraction, Elves Chasm. After tying up the rafts we scrambled up the creek to a beautiful waterfall. This “hike” (if you can call it that) is a good example of the kinds of activities we did during the day. Lunch stops with short, rugged, and very rewarding walks or scrambles. I quickly learned that doing these hikes in my kayaking booties does not work well. We took some time at the falls to check out the chasm behind the curtain, climb around on the rocks, and watch a few people go for a swim. After that we made our way back down to the river for lunch.
The creek finds its way through a gap in the boulders piled everywhere
Relaxing by the pool – Grand Canyon style
The falls at Elves Chasm
The Explorer’s Monument seen from a pool below the chasm
After lunch and filtering some water we pushed off to finish up the last few miles to camp for the evening. We pulled up to Above Blacktail Camp, just upstream of the mouth of Blacktail Canyon. After the usual unpacking and picking a spot to sleep, I grabbed the camera and headed up into the canyon to see what it was like. I was immediately impressed at the size of it, as well as the intricacies of the many layers that were exposed starting right at the mouth. It was a fun place to explore, at least until I ran up against a wet scramble that I could not conquer in the hiking shoes I wore.
Looking into the entrance of Blacktail Canyon
Some members of our group climbing on the rock terraces
The Colorado and the mouth of Blacktail Canyon from above
We spent the better part of an hour climbing around in the canyon and at it’s entrance. After dinner I even returned to the canyon to take some photos of the milky way with the canyon walls framing the shot. It was a pretty cool place to poke around at night, and added yet another memory that I won’t forget any time soon.
This is the day we really started the whitewater adventure. I quickly learned the unofficial motto of this trip: “Lots of learning.” I was not expecting it to be so true. The process of packing up the camp and getting my gear settled into the rafts and the kayak took a lot of time, and that was after I had done my best to prepare the night before. I was struggling to figure out what clothing and gear I would want while on the water and what was the best way to pack up everything else in my dry bags. It was quite a sight to see the rest of the group all working together to efficiently pack up their gear and the rafts. Clearly the extra 9 days of experience made a difference.
A commercial OARS dory crosses the light cutting through the canyon just above Granite
The first day on the river started off with a bang. We ran Granite and Hermit rapids right off the bat, and both were a blast. My line through Granite was a little sloppy, but I kept it upright. Hermit on the other hand felt like riding a roller coaster with huge waves. It was an action packed day all around with 8 rapids rated 5 or above, including one of the biggest, Crystal. Fortunately, all of the rapids went well and we did not have any swimmers. Crystal even ended up being pretty easy, as the lower flow allowed us to sneak by the worst of the holes. That did not take away from the excitement of the rest of the rapids though. There were a lot of really fun runs in this section.
Me floating along a flat section of the Colorado
In addition to all the whitewater we also had some time to explore the Ross Wheeler. This boat was abandoned on the river in the 1915 by a group filming a run through the canyon. It has been sitting here on the side of this rapid ever since. It is pretty hard to imagine running the river in a boat like this these days. It’s both small and incredibly fragile compared to the rubber ones we were paddling.
The Ross Wheeler chained up above the high water line
The view of the inner canyon from the Ross Wheeler
After covering about 15 miles we arrived at our second camp, Below Bass. Once again the group sprang into action and unpacked the boats. I tried to help where I could, but also went to find myself a spot where I could lay my wet clothes out to dry. I set up my at the back of camp near the wall of the canyon. By the time we had arrived the sun was already below the rim of the canyon, but I still climbed up the wall a bit to capture a panorama of our camp.
Looking down at Below Bass Camp just before sunset
After a great pasta dinner I headed off to bed. I was feeling a little sore from the paddling, so I was ready to lay down and get some rest. Camping in the Grand Canyon is a little different than what I’m used to at home. Given the consistent weather I ended up spending every night sleeping under the stars. By the time I was headed to bed, the clear blue skies had transformed into an incredible display of the Milky Way. The stars were simply spectacular, and the light pollution was non-existent. It was pretty magical to watch that sea of starts move across the sky over the course of the night. Every time I woke up they had shifted, revealing new constellations, and in the early morning the moon rose and changed it all again.
My dad and I were so impressed by our hike the previous day that we had to return the following day to do the echo canyon loop with my mom as well. This time we took a shorter loop. First down the Echo Canyon trail, then up the Hailstone Trail. The hike down Echo Canyon did not disappoint, just like the day before.
A hoodoo with some interesting erosion towering over the trail
Looking down through a gap in the rocks at the trail below
A pair of lizards watch us hike by
We took our time on the downhill and enjoyed the view, but before we knew it the trail leveled out and we started to traverse back towards the start. All in all it was a much shorter hike than the day before, but quite spectacular. After making our way back up to the trail head it was time to drive down and out of the park towards home.
The main reason we traveled out to Arizona at this time was to get a chance to spend some time with my parents. Given the airline travel and our quarantine requirements, we were keen to find as many ways as we could to spend time together in a safe way. One idea that immediately got traction was a camping trip to Chiricahua National Monument. It has been a recent favorite for my parents, and high on my list as well. I took a couple of days off of work and drove down to the mountains to set up camp.
Approaching the Chiricahua Mountains
The drive out was only a few hours, and took me through a range of classic Arizona scenery, with mountains separated by large dry valleys. After arriving at the mountains I found a back country camp site in the national forest and set up camp to wait for my parents to arrive. Though I ended up being more complicated than expected to find, we eventually met up, had dinner and relaxed by the camp fire to make plans for the next day.
The next morning my dad and I headed up into the park to go for a nice long hike through the hoodoos. Our goal was to do a long loop to the Heart Of Rocks loop. From everything we had heard and from my parent’s previous experience this part of the park had the best views of the rock formation. We started off at the Massai Point trail head and hiked out along the Echo Canyon Trail. It did not take long for me to be impressed by this landscape. As we started to descend into the canyon the hoodoos rose all around us. They came in a wide variety of shapes and sizes. It was all reminiscent of more famous destinations like Bryce Canyon, but without all the crowds.
A view of the hoodoos from inside Echo Canyon
The trail had more than just views of hoodoos though. Right off the bat you are treated to a formation called the Grotto, which consists of a number of stone arches, and boulders stuck between the hoodoos forming a system of small caves. The trail goes right past the Grotto, so its easy to climb around in the middle of it exploring the different passages. By the time we made it down into the main descent it was clear that this would be a spectacular hike.
This boulder hardly looks like there is anything holding it up
Looking down through the arches of the grotto
After descending to the bottom of the canyon the trail flattened out a bit and we started traversing across the valley to the Sarah Deming Trail. It was a long gradual descent, followed by a long gradual ascent up the other side as we made our way over to the Heart of Rocks. This portion of the trail was still very pretty, though in a different way. There were far more trees and undergrowth. It felt more alpine, even though we were lower than when we started.
Echo Canyon on the right, with Rhyolite Canyon on the left
A very friendly Spotted Towhee that lives at the bottom of Echo Canyon
We soon arrived at the Heart of Rocks loop and took a short break for some water and a snack. This is clearly a popular destination, and we quickly started seeing many more people than we had earlier on our hike. We made our way slowly around the loop taking in the many different rock formations, many of which had names (though some were more clever than others). Though it is a short loop, it’s packed with hoodoos of various shapes and sizes, and is definitely a sight to see.
The moon hanging over the top of a hoodoo
Punch and Judy arguing away
The heart of rocks
From there it was up along the ridge towards the trailhead. As we made our way back up we passed through areas where a fire burned in 2011. The difference between this area of the park and the canyon below was marked, with some areas nearly devoid of vegetation. As we continued up towards the trail head we started to see more large trees that had survived, but they stood among a number of blackened trunks as well. It was an interesting sight, that likely shows what the Catalina Mountains will look like in 10 years as they recover from the Bighorn Fire.
A lone burned out treeThis part of the canyon clearly escaped the worst of the fire
The last leg of the hike went quickly, and we soon arrived back at the cars. It was a fantastic introduction to Chiricahua National Monument.
Looking over to Sugarloaf Mountain from Masai Point
One of the great things about Arizona is how accessible outdoor activities are. The weather is nearly always perfect for a walk in the evening, and there is plenty of open space to enjoy. As we continued our quarantine working from the Airbnb we took full advantage of that to get out in the evenings and relax.
We spent a couple of those evenings walking around the abandoned Vistoso Golf Course. Though it isn’t really an authentic taste of the local desert, it’s still a nice strip of open space winding it’s way through the neighborhood.
The water hazards don’t really last when the water gets shut off
This is not typical in this area
We also saw some of the local wildlife scavenging for seeds on the side of the road. These javelinas are quite common around Arizona, but seeing the young ones so close is pretty unusual.
Finally, we were also able to get up into the hills of the Tortolitas one evening to get some beautiful views of the sunset. We only went on a short walk, but the payoff was great.
Sunsets in Arizona are some of the best I have seen anywhere. The combination of consistently great weather, open views, and some interesting topography means that they rarely disappoint. As we wrapped up the first couple days of work from “home” at our Airbnb, I decided to go for an evening hike to enjoy one of those sunsets. I started up the Pontatoc Canyon Trail about an hour before the sun set with the goal of climbing up far enough to see the sun set in the valley behind me. As soon as I started there were great views up the sides of the canyon, as well as out across the foothills towards Tucson.
Looking up towards the top of Pusch Ridge
Looking down the trail to the west
As I continued up I started to get further and further into the canyon I got more and more worried that I was going to end up without a good view of the sunset. I kept picking up the pace, hoping to get to where the trail climbed up out of the bottom of the canyon. It turns out my planning was correct though, and I soon started heading up the left side of the canyon and into the setting sun. Once I found a nice spot it was time to get out the camera and enjoy the view.
Looking up at the Pontatoc Cliffs
As I sat enjoying the view the sun lowered down into the valley, lighting up everything around me in an orange glow. The Pontatoc Cliffs just across the canyon were particularly bright and impressive. The colors were so intense that some of the phots just looked fake.
Shortly before the sun fully set I started back down the trail. I didn’t really want to hike out in the dark, so I rapidly worked my way back down the trail. As I did the color deepened, and the sun sank below the horizon. I snapped a couple quick photos before continuing down the trail.
A saguaro silhouetted in the setting sun
I made it back to the trailhead just as it was getting too dark to see clearly. The last bits of light were still lighting up the ridge, but the stars had started to come out. Another great hike in the desert.
I could just barely see the stars from this view to the east as I finished the hike
Early this spring we finally found the opportunity to travel out to Arizona to see my parents. As you might expect, travel in a pandemic is extra stressful so we were very happy to get outside and enjoy the excellent desert weather as soon as we arrived. We headed out to Catalina State Park for a tour of some of the burn scars from the Bighorn Fire that swept through here last summer.
The landscape was noticeably more brown than normal, but only on the left side of this hill
A badly burned saguaro
As the trail made it’s way up the hillside we quickly encountered signs of the fire. Many areas were thinned out, and some were completely barren. The fire was clearly very erratic though, as some areas appeared to be untouched. The shells of doomed saguaros were a sad sight along the trail. Somehow they continued to stand strong, but many will clearly not make it. However, there were also signs of life among the damage. Some cacti seemed like they might be able to survive, and new growth was already starting at the base of the bushes and trees.
Not sure how this young saguaro will fare, but we wished it well
The bush may be charred, but still it comes back
The way back down the loop took us through some areas which were entire unscathed in the fire. The contrast was remarkable, with far more underbrush and grass. It was a very interesting combination of sights, and I’m sure we will be back to watch it all come back.
The setting sun lighting up the mountains above us
The sun setting over the state park road
In true Arizona style, we were treated to a marvelous sunset as we approached the trail head. It was a great way to kick off our desert trip.
On Saturday morning we headed out to make the most of a pretty, but frigid, day. After a relaxed start we headed up to the Flume Gorge visitor center to go for a short hike. Though I have hiked Mt. Flume in the past, I have never really checked out the gorge itself. After climbing up the hill to the entrance to the gorge we were treated to an impressive array of ice with a number of ice climbers scrambling up the walls. We were not equipped to traverse the gorge, so we stuck with the overlook trail that led to the top.
Ice climbers enjoying the sheets of natural ice
The trail through the gorge was closed – and for good reason
With the photos taken, it was down the trail to the north to complete our loop. The trail was wide and extremely well maintained, so it was quick going. At the bottom of the hill we slowly navigated the trail down to the Sentinel Pine Bridge. It was quite an impressive sight perched high over the river below. It was very slow going through this section given the steep grades and our lack of traction.
Looking across the bridge
By the time we arrived back at the car we were pretty well frozen, so we decided to do the rest of our exploring by car. We decided to drive the length of the Kancamagus Highway and explore the overlooks and sights along the way. It is a very pretty section of road and definitely worth checking out. On the way back towards Lincoln for dinner we were treated to a nice sunset over the road.
Today’s post has a bit of a theme: Ice. I went up to Mt Chocorua on a beautiful Saturday to get a taste of real snow cover and solitude. I hiked up via the Champney falls trail so I could get a look at the frozen falls on the way, but I ended up seeing a lot more ice than I had expected. It started early with a couple of stream crossings right near the start of the trail.
The first stream was the most treacherous
The streams had all kinds of interesting shelves and crystals at the water’s edge
After some steady climbing I arrived at the falls I had been looking for. As expected, the small gorge had massive sheets of ice forming on the uphill side. In addition though there were an assortment of intricate ice formations across the area. I spent quite a while poking around in the early morning quiet to check them all out.
Ice curtains
The main view of the falls on the way in
These icicles somehow grew in multiple directions
Flat icicles
Eventually other people started to show up and I continued on up the mountain. Though most of the climb was not noteworthy, once I emerged onto the ridge between the summits, I was surrounded by incredible views. To the north was the heart of the pemi wildterness and presidential range, including a clear view of Mt. Washington. To the south were miles of hill country dotted with small lakes, many featuring some ice fishing. Most impressive though was the jagged summit of Chocorua which was clearly visible just over the ridge.
The summit of Mt Chocorua over and undisturbed layer of snow on the ridge
Some critter calls this spot home
A tree hanging on to the edge
I climbed to Middle Sister, one of the minor summits and then across the ridge to Chocorua itself. On the traverse I saw even more examples of different kinds of ice. It was definitely a photographic journey, with many stops along the way.
I thick sheet of ice on the trail marked with one large crack
A lone tiny ice chunk laying on fresh snow
After taking some time at the summit, it was back down the mountain along the same trail. The mountain continued to impress with more incredible views (and more ice formations) along the way, but much of it was familiar at this point. Though it certainly was not crowded, there were a number of people out on the trail this day. Clearly I was not the only one who came up this this idea. Great minds think alike.
Two people enjoying the view of Mt Washington from just below the summitSome wild ice crystals hovering just above the water at one of the creek crossings on the way down
