I did not pursue any early-access permits to backpack in the national parks of the southwest this spring.

To the uninitiated, canyon country in southern Utah and northern Arizona is something of a haven during late winter and early spring as it’s an area that is often warm enough to have melted off any snow that time of year. It’s a time of year where the otherwise scorching heat of the Sonoran, Mojave, and Great Basin deserts hasn’t yet picked up, making exposed treks across shadeless expanses possible (with the likelihood of precious snowmelt water easier to find, too).

There are three realities that played into this decision of mine this year. First and foremost, I’ve got two kids age 4 and under, and the number of long trips I can feasibly pull off in a calendar year has shrunk considerably. Given my preference for sub-alpine environments when it comes to big treks, that means I do my best to hoard my availability for mountain adventures later in the year once the snow on them has melted off. Also, my location in Colorado means I’m much closer to a lot of those mountain treks than the ones in canyon country, so I can often ‘save’ a day of travel on a long trip that can be rolled into an additional day of trekking.

The problem there, though, is that mountain trips where you aren’t dealing with copious snow generally don’t materialize until mid-June at the absolute earliest, and often into mid-July in snowy years. That’s a big, big chunk of the year where you aren’t pursuing a thing (backpacking) that truly drives you, and that can be a difficult pill to swallow.

So, when you get a text like this from one of your oldest buddies and best hiking partner, well, it lights a fire that’s pretty tough to extinguish:

George first got me into canyon trekking back in 2017 or so, and in the years that have followed we’ve stained countless shoes and packs and tents with the fine red dirt of the area. Neon Canyon, Golden Cathedral, Coyote Gulch, and Death Hollow in Grand Staircase-Escalante. We hoofed our way into (and out of) the Maze in Canyonlands from North Point in Glen Canyon National Recreation Area, a trip that liked to have killed us both.

We also spent 7 days and 6 nights backpacking east to west in the Grand Canyon in early 2020, a route that carried us some ~60 miles from Lipan Point down the Tanner Trail, east on the Escalante Route up to the Tonto Trail, and along the Tonto Shelf before climbing back out Bright Angel. To date, it’s the biggest, baddest trip I’ve ever completed, its majesty and rigor having created quintessential Type II fun.

It was the last real thing I did before COVID exploded the following week. The pandemic and social distancing soon followed, and if you do the math on my kids comment above you’ll figure out that Grand Canyon trip was one of the last things I did before finding out I’d be a father. The five years that have transpired since limping up Bright Angel have been truly life-changing, as I turned 40 in that span and, in some unofficial part of my mind, had hung up my ‘tough one through the Grand Canyon’ shoes.

With that context, it’s hard to describe how surprised I was by own immediate reaction.

Yeah, dude…let me figure out how, and I’m in.

Also, where exactly the hell are we going?

We were fortunate that there were some flexibility in the dates, and George actually pushed the entire trip back a week so that I could fit it into my calendar. I rubber stamped it when my wife confirmed it fit her schedule, too, and retroactively began ‘planning’ this trip I’d otherwise committed to sight unseen.

We ran some numbers, and the added 7 miles of road walking to begin the trip at South Bass Trailhead means we’ll end up ‘backpacking’ roughly 51 miles. Add on an additional 5 miles of side-trips to make sure we have water and an additional 6 miles to side-trip down to Crystal Rapids on the Colorado River, and this trip will equal almost exactly the amount of trekking we knocked out in that February 2020 trip in the eastern section of the canyon.

Dropping down South Bass to the Tonto Trail will take us down over 3,200 feet through Bass Canyon on day one. The subsequent four days will be spent on the shelf heading east along the Tonto, weaving our way in and out of The Gems that are Ruby Canyon, Turquoise Canyon, Sapphire Canyon, and Agate Canyon. The final push will feature a climb out of over 4,000 feet on the Boucher Trail, one that’ll require us to haul way more water weight than we’d like before setting up camp below Yuma Point and the incredible views it boasts before the final push the next morning up and out Hermit Creek.

I wrapped the 2024 backpacking season with a pretty epic trip in Wyoming’s Wind River Range, covering the better part of 45 miles in the Green River Lakes area across five days. I’m older, of course, but I’ve got the references saved from the last trip through the Canyon that remind me it’s something I once accomplished, and I’m reminded of the things I did in preparation for that trip that I need to return to my regimen before this one. On top of that, George has traversed the epic Boucher Trail before – though descending it that time – and at least has a taste of the lay of that land.

I’m not flying blindly into this trip by any means. I just agreed to it while wearing a sleeping mask.

Come March 16th, George and I will once again be descending downward into the Grand Canyon for an epic weeklong trek. It might pour rain on us like last time. It might snow 7 inches on the North Rim while we’re down there like last time. It may well be pushing 90 degrees as it was when we hiked into the Maze in Canyonlands. The beauty of prepping for a canyon country trip, though, is that you’ve got to be ready for absolutely every single condition, including that your own personal condition will deteriorate gradually – or rapidly – as you’re out there on your own.

It’s a grinder, though the grind begins long before you ever set foot on a trail down there. It’s been steadily grinding since the moment I agreed to go, and every minute of prepping for this pays off in spades once you get there.

I guess I may never quite retire my ‘tough one through the Grand Canyon’ shoes. I’ll just always need the proper prompt.

Trip Details

The below chart details the on-trail portion of the trip, excluding the ~7 mile roadwalk to the South Bass Trailhead at the start and the side trip to Crystal Rapids. Sourced from Caltopo.


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