Grand Canyon (Bright Angel and Clear Creek): March 2019

Tom and I spent the week of March 2-9 (Spring Break at UA) hiking and backpacking in the Grand Canyon.  We had originally hoped to do the Escalante Route but didn't get permits for those dates, and in the end decided on a trip that had three nights at Clear Creek, with two nights before and two nights after at Bright Angel Campground.

Days 1 and 2: Bright Angel Campground

We showed up at the Backcountry Information Center for the first run of the Hiker's Special shuttle.  The sky was a dull leaden gray and the forecast called for rain.  We were at the South Kaibab trailhead by 7:30.  The trail was covered with a slippery mix of ice and slushy snow, and we very quickly decided to pull to the side and put on our Yaxtrax.  

About an hour into the hike it began to rain.  It wasn't too heavy, and once I put on my rain gear the hiking wasn't too bad.  The Colorado, once we could see it, looked a thick muddy brown, making me  wonder how bad the creeks would be (muddy water is hard to pump through water filters, as we had found out on a trip a few years ago).  Of course, there was very little we could do about it.

We reached Bright Angel Campground around 11:30.  I had been worried that the campsites would be a muddy mess, but thankfully that wasn't the case.  Even better, the rain stopped just as we reached the campground, so setting up camp wasn't a problem either.  It began to rain again about an hour after we'd set up camp, so we ducked into our tents.  The effects of the morning's hike, the sound of raindrops spattering on the tent, and the warmth and comfort of the sleeping bag, were wonderfully relaxing; before long, I dozed off.

The rain eventually petered out, and although the sky stayed dark and threatening, the sun peeked out now and then and lit up the cottonwood trees beginning to come into leaf.  The effects of the rain further up-canyon were now beginning to reach us: Bright Angel Creek, running right by the campground, was now noticeably higher and muddier than it had been just a few hours ago: rocks that had been sticking up above the water earlier were now submerged in the rushing brown torrent.

Hellgrammite: N. Kaibab Trail

Later that evening, and again on the trail the next day, we came across an unfamiliar bug , which we learned later was a hellgrammite.  It turns out that they live under rocks in clean water, and sometimes come out onto land after storms.  Maybe the muddying of the water due to storm runoff has something to do with that.

It rained off an on that night.  A couple of times I heard big loud rolling booms from what sounded like not too far away: one may (or may not) have been thunder, but the other sounded very much like a rockfall.  Camped as we were, right next to the cliff, this was not reassuring.

Washed-away section of trail

We set out early the next morning for a day hike to Ribbon Falls, six miles up North Kaibab Trail.  The weather was pleasant and cool, and the trail, which followed Bright Angel Trail upstream, had only a very gentle pitch to it.  The effects of the rainy winter were obvious: water seeping down the Vishnu Schist cliffs in many places, a number of rockfalls along the trail that hurried us along, a small section of trail washed away in one place. 
Crossing Bright Angel Creek to get to the waterfall turned out to be a problem, however: the creek was running so high and fast that wading across didn't feel safe, and the bridge across the creek was temporarily closed.  We ended up tiptoeing across the bridge slowly and carefully,  after which the short hike to the falls was uneventful.

The waterfall itself was absolutely stunning: over time, evaporation from the mineral-rich water stream has built up a huge travertine dome underneath the column of water, covered with a thick coat of moss whose vivid green was a brilliant contrast against the red of the cliffs.  A narrow path wound its way up the side of the cliff to  ledge behind the waterfall, from which I could look out at the canyon walls through a curtain of spray.  It was a delightful treat, and we had the place entirely to ourselves, so we sat and enjoyed it for a long while before heading back to camp.

Ribbon Falls

Days 3-6: Clear Creek

It was still dark when we put on our packs and hit the trail at 6am.  The first ¾ mile from Bright Angel Campground runs goes through Phantom Ranch and up along N. Kaibab Trail before coming to a T-junction where Clear Creek Trail heads off to the right.  The trail rises steeply pretty much right away, climbing about 1,500 feet over the next 1.5 miles to the Tonto Platform.  The trail was in pretty good shape, and the climb felt good in the cool air of the early morning.

Zoroaster Temple

The trail leveled out once we reached the Tonto, offering stunning views of the Inner Gorge; we could see S. Kaibab Trail across the river, a long diagonal slash ending in a zigzag of switchbacks above the Black Bridge.  The sun had risen above the rim by now, shining through gaps in the clouds and lighting up the top of the South Rim cliffs, the light changing from minute to minute.  The trail contoured along above the river, heading east for several miles, with the sharp point of Zoroaster Temple looming above us, then turned to the northeast towards Zoroaster Canyon.  A couple of miles beyond Zoroaster Canyon (it felt a lot longer) the trail turned and headed down the side of a steep slope of beautiful bright red Hakatai Shale towards Clear Creek below us. 


Once at the canyon bottom, a short walk brought us to the campground.  According to GPS, the distance from from Bright Angel Campground to Clear Creek Campground was just over 10 miles (officially, Clear Creek Trail is 9 miles long, but there's an additional 3/4 mile section along N. Kaibab Trail at the beginning and a short stretch along the bottom of Clear Creek Canyon at the end).  The sun was warm and bright above us, and it was very pleasant to crawl into my tent and stretch out.  Later, once the sun was lower and the air cooler, we went about the usual camp housekeeping: pump water, make dinner, etc.  Soon after the first couple of stars came out, I was in my tent for the night.

Hiking up Clear Creek

The next day began relatively slow and relaxed: there was no big hurry to get going, and we didn't get on the trail until around 7.  The plan was to hike up Clear Creek to Cheyava Falls, four miles upstream.  There wasn't much in the way of trail, so we pretty much just went up the creek bed, with a lot of boulder-hopping and stream-crossing.  But the weather was pleasant and the streambed mostly not too brushy, making for an enjoyable hike.  Unfortunately, Cheyava (Hopi for "intermittent water") was dry when we got there.  But it was a lovely day, so we sat and enjoyed the scenery.  Tom spotted some prehistoric ruins on the cliff face across the creek a little way from us, so on the way back we bushwhacked up to the ruins through some thick brush to check them out.

Cheyava Falls (dry)

We got a late start the next morning.  The plan was to hike downstream towards the Colorado.  The original weather forecast (i.e., when we began our hike) had called for rain that day, and it had grown cloudy and windy overnight, so we decided to wait see how the weather turned out.  The weather held, and after a while we decided to head downstream.  As on the day before, there was no trail to follow and we ended up with a lot of boulder-hopping and stream crisscrossing.  After hiking downstream a little over a couple of miles, we decided to just sit and relax by the creekside.  All around us were jagged black cliffs of Vishnu Schist, with a little rill of water running down the middle.

Vishnu Schist cliffs: Clear Creek Canyon

By the time we got back to camp later that afternoon, a weather system moving through the area was pushing through a lot of wind, which intensified greatly as it churned down the narrow canyon.   It was so intense that it kept uprooting my tent stakes, and I kept having to go pound them back in.  Eventually I ended up piling large heavy rocks on top of the stakes to hold them down.  Everything inside the tent was covered with fine red dust, and each gust of wind blew in more.  The winds grew fiercer as the evening wore on, and I don't think I got a lot of sleep that night.  I could hear each blast of wind roaring down the canyon like a demented freight train, the sound growing louder and louder until suddenly the tent was shaking hard, the rain fly flapping furiously, the tent poles creaking as they bent and twisted.  Sand in my face.  This went on for maybe a minute or so, then a lull, until the next freight train began its run down the canyon.  When I was taking down the tent the next morning I found that the relentless pounding had bent the tent poles in several places.

We headed back to Bright Angel Campground the next day.  The wind had mostly quieted by the time we began breaking camp, so taking down our tents was not as problematic as I'd feared.  We were on the trail by daybreak.  The hike back was uneventful, with overcast skies that kept the temperature pleasant and only a few brief light showers.

Days 7-8: Bright Angel Campground; hike out

The plan for the day was to day-hike up South Kaibab to the Tonto, then take the Tonto over to Bright Angel Trail, and take Bright Angel back to the campground.  The map showed some sort of natural arch not too far from S. Kaibab, and Tom thought it might be visible from the Tonto, so we thought we might look for that as well.

Black-tailed rattlesnake	Miner's cabin ruins

We were on the trail by 7.  The hiking was delightful: the sun was out, the air was cool, and there were very few people on the trail.  We made good time to the Tipoff, and after a brief stop headed west on the Tonto towards Bright Angel Trail, just over four miles away.  The trail meandered along, contouring back and forth.  We saw a small snake with unfamiliar markings dozing by the trailside (a park ranger later identified it as a black-tailed rattlesnake; it was the second reported rattlesnake sighting of the season).  Near Pipe Creek we came across the ruins of an old miner's cabin: just the base of the walls, and some old rusted cans.  

A little before (i.e., to the east of) where Tonto meets Bright Angel, there is a faint trail, unmaintained and rarely used, that heads off downhill: Old Bright Angel Trail.  We went down this trail, then bushwhacked across a steep hillside to some old cliff dwellings, then bushwhacked back down to Old Bright Angel.  Eventually Old Bright Angel Trail intersected (new, well-traveled) Bright Angel Trail.  We could still see faint traces of Old Bright Angel Trail plunging steeply down the hillside, and after some discussion decided to take it all the way down.  This was very enjoyable --- Old Bright Angel was challenging enough to demand one's full focus, but not so hard as to be scary --- though once we got down to the creek and looked back up, it seemed impossible that we could have come that way.

Ruins

Old Bright Angel Trail

When we got back to camp, there were three deer munching nonchalantly on the undergrowth near our campsite, quite comfortable with the hikers walking around.  They looked annoyed at our appearance, grazed for a little while longer, then wandered off.

We were to hike out the next day.  The plan was to take Bright Angel Trail up: 10 miles, just under 4,400 vertical feet.  We broke camp in the dark and were well along the trail by the time the sky began to lighten to the east.  The morning air had just a hint of chill and my ungloved fingertips tingled.  The trail became more crowded as the morning wore on.  The last mile or so of the trail, near the top, was covered with ice and snow, and we had to top and put on our Yaxtrax to get decent traction.  We got to the top around 1:30-ish.

Postscript

I had turned 60 just a couple of weeks before this hike, and the hike was a celebration of sorts.  It was wonderful: the scenery was gorgeous, the hiking delightful, the weather [mostly] great.  I should definitely consider turning 60 more often.

I saw two kinds of critters new to me on this trip: hellgrammites and a black-tailed rattlesnake.  That was pretty cool.

At one point, after talking to a hiker who was rhapsodizing about doing a rim-to-rim hike in a day, I got to pondering why that held so little appeal for me.  I've written down some thoughts here.