Every outing, whether rock climbing, packrafting, canyoneering, or even backpacking, has a crux, usually generating at least a little pre-trip anxiety. This makes trips feel more adventurous even though the anxiety is relative and usually unfounded. Climber and Patagonia founder Yvon Chouinard famously said, “for me, when everything goes wrong – that’s when adventure starts.”
I’m lucky in that I can have adventures just imagining a few things going wrong or sometimes, only one thing.
In Utah’s lower Grand Gulch, the pre-trip anxiety-producer is the pour-over low in the canyon just above where it meets the San Juan River. Pour-overs are common on the Colorado Plateau where sedimentary bedding planes meet headward erosion, sometimes undercutting them and leaving a drop into the canyon below. These can often be bypassed on one side or the other by side-hilling and scrambling, but sometimes they are impassable except by technical means (rappelling, downclimbing, handlining, etc.).
The pour-over in lower Grand Gulch was once easily bypassed, but a rockslide obliterated the trail, leaving a nearly vertical mess of dirt and loose rock that according to descriptions and videos that I nervously watched before we set out, could be traversed sketchily by scrambling across the exposed dirt cliff, a no-fall situation. According to trip accounts, hikers often lowered (or hoisted) their packs over the lip of the pour-over with rope to improve their odds and their balance on the traverse. On the other hand, the route from Collins Spring to the river is a common timed-challenge for long distance runners, who don't ever mention the pour-over in their accounts, presumably racing over it with enough momentum to avoid gravitational danger, like Basilisk lizards (aka Jesus Christ lizards) that can run across the surface of lakes.
But I’m getting ahead of myself. For years, I kept a mental list of trips to do when freed from spring and fall teaching—prime time in the desert since summers are too hot and winters too cold. One of them was a hike down Grand Gulch to the San Juan, then upriver to the mouth of Slickhorn Canyon, and finally up Slickhorn to its head. Cedar Mesa (aka Bear’s Ears) is famously packed with archaeology and rock art, and it’s beautiful.
I’d originally imagined a longer hike starting at the Kane Gulch Ranger Station but having already hiked upper Grand Gulch (and many of its side canyons; (e.g., blog posts here, here), I instead planned a five-day post-retirement hike with Ellen, Bay Roberts, and Larry Scritchfield in April 2022 starting at Collins and exiting at Slickhorn #1 (one of the upper Slickhorn trailheads). I’d met a canyoneer the previous spring at the Collins trailhead who was starting this route by himself, and he mentioned carrying a rope for the pour-over, so I did my anxiety-producing due diligence and made a plan to carry a harness, rappel device, and 65’ of supertape (lightweight climber’s webbing) just in case. We’d hike down Grand Gulch first (rather than starting at Slickhorn) so that the drop could be descended with the webbing rather than ascended via the death-choss.
It all worked out as it almost always does. The webbing rappel off the pour-over from a large cottonwood tree growing conveniently at the lip was fast and easy, and the rest of the hike was interesting and enjoyable with lots of fascinating rock art, great ancestral Puebloan structures, perfect campsites, and lovely weather. We saw few people, except for a large NOLS group camped just above the pour-over having survived the mandatory (since they were traveling up-canyon) dirt-traverse the previous afternoon. I would not have wanted to be responsible for (or have watched) that mission, but the group seemed unphased as they lounged in folding chairs cooking biscuits in oil, surrounded by a vast scatter of heavy gear that they had carried for a week or more and were destined to carry for weeks to come.
Towards the end of the hike, we scrambled high up a talus slope into the arc of an abandoned river bend (rincon). Pictographs of birds and other figures adorned the orange sandstone cliff from where we sat all the way around to the other side of the rincon where they were painted in impossibly precarious sites. Below us, the broad canyon offered appealing campsites with pools of water glinting in spring sunshine. Trip anxieties dissolve quickly.
Photos of the hike are below and a little info on logistics with a link to a more detailed trip description is included below the photos. Much of the archaeology is oft-visited and well-known, but I won’t provide specific locations.
Ellen on the easy bypass around an even larger pour-over near the head of Slickhorn Canyon on our last day.
Logistics: Permits are required for backpacking in Grand Gulch and Slickhorn. We left a car at the Slickhorn #1 trailhead and drove a second car to the Collins Spring trailhead to start the hike. There’s dispersed camping along the road into Collins Spring and near the Slickhorn trailhead (and all over Cedar Mesa) or you can stay at the paid campground at Natural Bridges National Monument (first come first served).
The hike itself took us 5 days and 4 nights, enough time (but more is always better) for exploring ruins and art—we camped twice in lower Grand Gulch and twice in Slickhorn Canyon, finding ample water flowing in the main drainage in Grand Gulch and good water at all of our camps (spring 2022) in Slickhorn as well.
The main technical obstacle is the pour-over near the bottom of Grand Gulch, not far upcanyon from the San Juan River and described above. We carried a 65’ length of 9/16” climbing webbing (lighter than rope), one harness, and one rappel device and rappelled off a large cottonwood tree on the left side of the pour-off looking down canyon, passing the gear up for each person. That worked great, wasn’t scary, and was probably faster than lowering packs and sketching across the dirt cliff one-by-one.
The traverse from Grand Gulch to the mouth of Slickhorn is arduous but not technical--stay high on a bench coming out of Grand Gulch. There is a mile or so of boulder field side-hilling where we found an intermittent trail before gaining a nice bench that makes for easier hiking (though with some talus sections) and eventually wraps into Slickhorn. There is no water on the traverse (you are high above the river). Continue along the bench into Slickhorn. We camped in a small side drainage a mile or so up Slickhorn that was beautiful and running with clear water. The hike up Slickhorn from there to the trailhead was straightforward.
There is a very detailed trip description at this website.
Fantastic story and photos Ken, thanks for the vicarious backpack!
ReplyDeleteThanks Darrow. I’ve enjoyed vicarious backpacking with you as well.
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