Grand Canyon (Escalante Route): April 2026

A group of six of us—Bill, Brett, Layne, Logan, Ramesh, and I—went on a four-day backpacking trip in Grand Canyon in April 2026: down Tanner Trail, across on the Escalante Route, and out on New Hance Trail.  This is a challenging hike (Escalante Route can be intimidating in a couple of places, and New Hance is possibly the hardest trail on Grand Canyon's South Rim), and after an unusually warm March I had been worried that hot weather might compound the challenge.  As it turned out, the weather was close to perfect and the hike was delightful.

Day 1: Rim to Tanner Rapids

View from Lipan Point

Our first day was down Tanner Trail, about 8 miles from Rim to river and intermediate in difficulty among Grand Canyon's off-corridor South Rim trails.  There are two steep, loose, and rocky sections—the first, going through the Coconino Sandstone layer near the top of the trail, with a drop of about 1,200' over half a mile; and the second, through the Redwall Limestone layer, dropping about 1,000' over 0.7 miles.  In between these two sections is a delightful mellow three-mile meander along the Supai (which the Park Service's trail description considers "the only reasonably civilized hiking to be found along the entire route").  Below the Redwall the trail descends another 2,000' over three miles to reach the Colorado River: nowhere as hard, but still loose and slippery enough to demand one's full attention the entire distance.

Descent through the Redwall 

We started down the trail around 9 AM.  It was pleasant hiking and we made good time.  There were very few people on the trail: we met one person who was going up, and saw a small group some distance behind us, but other than that had the place to ourselves.  We stopped for a brief snack break at Seventyfive Mile Saddle and a quick lunch below the Redwall, but other than these brief breaks kept moving.  

 

Hedgehog cactus in bloom

Although it had been a dry winter and spring, there were a lot of plants in bloom.  Especially showy were the large bright pink and purple flowers of hedgehog and prickly pear cacti that lit up the arid landscape.  

Tanner Rapids
(Video: B. Dooley)

We reached Tanner Campground around 3 PM.  There was a short flurry of concern when Brett briefly went missing, but he showed back up soon and all was well—it turned out that he had inadvertently continued along a stretch of trail we'd take the next day.  The sun was too hot to set up camp right away, so we took care of other chores, such as filtering water, and sat in whatever shade we could find and relaxed.  We were all tired after not-quite-enough-sleep the night before followed by a hard day's hike, and once the sun sank low we set up camp, made dinner, and turned in early.

Tanner Trail: Below the Redwall

Tanner Rapids

Comanche Point

Layne and Bill relaxing

 Day 2: Tanner Beach to Seventyfive Mile Canyon

The trail out of Tanner Beach starts out soft and sandy and flat, and it's easy and pleasant hiking to Cardenas Canyon, about three miles away.  A little to the west of Cardenas there's side trail to a small prehistoric Puebloan ruin on a hilltop overlooking Cardenas Canyon and the Colorado River beyond it.  Beyond this the trail rises gradually, skirting steep red sandstone cliffs above the Colorado River, which carves a wide S around Unkar Delta on the opposite bank.  After a mile or so the trail veers sharply to the west and more or less contours along for a little over a mile before it jogs to the left and drops, steeply and roughly—more of a "route" now than a "trail"—down into Escalante Canyon. 

Views from around Cardenas Canyon

 We had a relaxed start and were on the trail just after 8 AM.  I was moving slower than the others in the group, and encouraged them to move on at their own speed; in the blink of an eye they were out of sight and I had the Canyon to myself.   It was an amazing feeling: all the pluses of a solo hike (silence; solitude; guilt-free breaks to take pictures or admire the scenery) alongside the knowledge that, barring mishaps, I'd have friends for company at dinner.  I took the little detour to the ruin near Cardenas, paused to admire the red cliffs framing the deep green ribbon of the river curling around Unkar Delta.  I met up with the rest of the group briefly at their lunch break a couple of miles later, but was back to solitary hiking shortly after.  I reached Escalante Canyon around 2:30 PM.  It was less than a couple of miles from there to Seventyfive Mile Canyon, but the sun was hot and I was tired and this last stretch felt interminable. 

On the way to Seventyfive Mile Canyon (Videos: B. Dooley)

The trail skirts the edge of the sheer vertical walls of Seventyfive Mile Canyon for about half a mile before dropping down into the canyon proper via a short but not-far-from-vertical rock slope.  Once at the bottom, the character of the trail changes abruptly: from hot, sunny, and rocky to cool, sandy, and shady.  The canyon narrows quickly, the walls closing in until one can almost touch both sides of the canyon with outstretched arms.  The canyon twists and turns, and after a while there is a faint whisper that gradually grows into the roar of Neville Rapids (which I was too worn out to appreciate, except for the shade and soft sand, which I was grateful for).  The canyon eventually opens up onto a flat open bouldery area, and off to the right (i.e., up-river) is a pretty little sandy beach, with a bunch of cozy tree-shaded campsites to the side.  Everyone was hanging around by the beach, relaxing and setting up camp.  A canyon wren flitted among the trees and rocks, complaining loudly about our intrusion. We hadn't seen a single hiker outside our group all day, and now we had the entire place to ourselves.  A raft party came down the river a little later and stopped at the beach, and donated some beer before they left; it was the best I had ever tasted.

Seventyfive Mile Canyon

 It had been a long day and I was tired.  I had hiked 10.5 miles, with a total elevation gain of 3000' and elevation loss of 3100'.  I had an early dinner and ducked into my tent soon after.

Day 3: Seventyfive Mile Canyon to Red Canyon

Papago Wall

Papago Slide

On a map,  the trail from Seventyfive Mile Canyon west to Hance Rapids looks straightforward: 1.5 miles with a very modest elevation change (around +500' and -500').  It's a lot less trivial on the ground: rough and rocky, with numerous rockslides to negotiate.  And, of course, the notorious Papago Wall and Papago Slide, which can be intimidating even to people who have hiked the route before.  We averaged about 1 mph on this section, which I think was pretty decent.

Hance Rapids

We reached Hance Rapids around 9:30 AM and stopped to pick up water for a dry camp overnight.  A raft party beached their rafts across on the other side of the river and hiked up to an overlook to plan their way through the rapids, one of the most difficult in Grand Canyon.  A big lizard came by, glared at us, and did some pushups to tell us that he had already claimed the area.  The rafters got back into their rafts and, one by one, launched into the rapids.

It was close to noon by the time we headed up New Hance Trail towards the Rim.  This is the shortest river-to-rim trail in the Grand Canyon (and one of the hardest), climbing a little over 4,400' over 6.5 miles; the first 1.5 miles are relatively flat, after which it steepens as it climbs out of the canyon floor.  The heat, intense sun, and the weight of the extra water we were carrying made for hard hiking.  After about two miles and 1,100 vertical feet, we  decided to stop and camp in a dry wash (this would have been a no-no in rainy weather due to the danger of flash floods, but the forecasts were clear and we were not expecting any rain).  The sun was still pretty high in the sky, so we sat in whatever shade we could find and waited for the day to cool.  It was a quiet and relaxed afternoon.  Another day of not seeing anyone outside our little group.

Red Canyon Camp

 Day 4: Red Canyon to Rim

Everything was silent  in the predawn darkness when I rolled out of my sleeping bag and slowly began packing up.  Little by little it grew light and the Canyon began to come awake.  A faraway mourning dove cooed softly as I prepared breakfast.  A tarantula hawk flew by, a small red-and-black blur looking for victims to sting and paralyze.  Some sparrows chattered in the distance, then a wren joined in.  The air was deliciously cool.

 We started up the trail at around 7:30 AM.   It headed uphill right away.  I was hiking quite a bit slower than the rest of the group, so I dropped back to the tail of the line and proceeded at my own pace.  Soon I was alone in the Canyon.  It was wonderful!   There were lots of wildflowers along the trail—and while the display was not as riotously exuberant as in places like, say, the Grand Tetons, it was lovely nonetheless, especially considering the long drought we've been in.

Sights from New Hance Trail

Redwall Cliffs

The trail climbed steeply and relentlessly.  There was a brief respite after the cliffy Redwall layer, but it didn't last long.  A little further up, going through the Supai layer, there was a stretch where the trail was repeatedly obliterated by a series of rock slides.  Negotiating these involved climbing over and around big haphazard jumbles of boulders.  I lost the trail a couple of times going over rock slides, and while I was able to get back to the trail each time, there were some anxious moments.  

 The vegetation around me changed as I slowly worked my way up the trail: the cactus and shrubs from lower elevations were replaced by junipers and, as I neared the top, pine trees.  I reached the trailhead little after 1 PM.

 Epilogue

Layne and Logan had gone ahead and were waiting at the Desert Watchtower.  We piled into Brett's truck and headed their way to say goodbye before heading home.  Brett popped a bottle of champagne he had brought.  It was a lovely end to a hard but delightful hike.