Day 2 started at sunrise. Noticing that other groups were up and about, I went of in search of a USB C cable and more importantly trail intel. With regard to the former, I bet my buddy $20 that someone in the canyon would have spare cable. His response: you are a **************.
Trail intel was a far more critical piece of information, as we had an important decision ahead of us. There are 2 trails leading to the Tapeats Creek - Colorado River confluence. The westside trail required an elevation gain, with significant exposure and downclimbs; the eastside trail required 2 creek crossings and trail conditions were described as poor.
We were aware of this decision point early in our planning, and deferred the final decision to facts on the ground. This is not a trivial matter as Jackson Standefer and LouAnn Merrell were swept to their deaths crossing Tapeats Creek in 2017.
Opinions were across the board. Some fellow campers argued for the westside, others the eastside. Oddly enough, we found the same 6-or-half-dozen consensus when we polled park rangers during our pre-trip planning.
We ultimately decided on the Eastside side trail. While the 2 crossing required some forethought and care, they were otherwise uneventful. But, the water was fast and cold and about 30" deep. A mistake here would have had very serious consequences. I do also want to mention that we brought along 2 50' sections of real-deal 550 Paracord (not the cosmetic c ap, but the true parachute rated item) for portaging packs and these 2 crossings.
Oh yeah, no USB C cable to be found.
We eventually reached the confluence at about 11:00 am after a very steep descent, and 2 problems arose.
Problem number 1 was the heat; temperatures were in the mid 80's and my buzzy head was back. I told my buddy, another exclamation of ************** was uttered, and another longer water break ensued. I ate salty food, downed a liter with a GU tablet, and dunked my hat in the Colorado's cold water. About 30 minutes later, I felt good to go.
The second problem was finding the river trail, we couldn't. This in itself is not too unusual as primitive inner canyon trails can be very tricky to find especially in washes and confluences. But there are tells, and often cairns. But here we were coming up blank. GAIA, Oregon and the map all confirmed that we were in the right spot but after 45 minutes of tromping around the trail was still elusive.
A debate ensued. Neither of us were keen a blind bushwhacking along the river. This results in a huge expenditure of energy because the terrain is so punishing. My buddy wanted to ascend the steep section we earlier downclimbed, as he wanted to try a spur trail on the cliff.
I didn't: none of the trip reports or the morning's intel gathering spoke of a major upclimb to exit the confluence. This sort of detail would not be omitted. So, I asked for 5 more minutes to find the trail ... and there it was beyond the farthest campsite, footprints heading west. And then in the distance a cairn. Now it was my turn to exclaim to my buddy: you are a **************.
The confluence of Tapeats Creek and the Colorado River.
Boaters on the Colorado:
Off we went on the westward river trail. The trail was hard, lots of scree, lots of ascents and descents, as to be expected.
Until, about halfway to the Deer Creek confluence, I fell. Falling is a thing on these trips; it happens. And, we usually score them. Oddly, a save and a butt plant both get scores of 10.
But, this fall was different. It was accompanied by a loud pop, and immediate and intense pain. And even more disconcerting: I butt planted on my ankle, which was at a nauseating unnatural ankle.
The problems:
1. The pain, oh the f$$k$$g pain.
2. The location is absolutely terrible.
Oddly, the second problem helps solve the first.
We were on an exposed (both sun and elevation) shelf section of the trail, about ~150' higher than the river. It is very hot, and my hands are burning on the rocks. Sunset is hours away, and the most critical issue is GETTING OUT OF THE SUN asap.
We had just finished a sketchy section of ascents/descents, but about 100 yards back on trail, passed a rock out cropping with lots of glorious shade. Another plus, river access was reasonable close, so water was accessible.
But was backtracking our very best option? My buddy scouted ahead to answer that very question. Meanwhile, I decided to crawl to the ledge (where I fell) so l could get my legs under me ... and in doing so, inadvertently, reset my ankle. Immediate pain relief; again just to stress IMMEDIATE pain relief, so much so I have the crazy, momentary thought that all is not lost.
Nope, no way. A bit of experimentation clearly demonstrated that my ankle would not support any weight. It was time to put the InReach SE to use and call an SOS.
The time was 2:00 pm.
My buddy returns and reports that the next section was a very long and very sketchy descent.
Our best immediate plan of action was to retreat back to that shady rock out cropping ~100 yards behind us. We then fashioned a splint out of electrical tape and tent poles, and with a bit of crawling and elephant walking and butt scutching we get back to shade.
Success. However, the local residents are not so happy to share their home. My ankle pain is coming in waves, but I soon forget about that as a red fire ant stings my left hand.
Game on! I am now engrossed with the very serious business of flicking the devilish spawn off my body. We still find time to drink water eat nuts, and most importantly talk trash, as is our habit.
The NPS helicopter flew overhead at about 4 pm, but there was no convenient LZ nearby. Ultimately, they landed at Tapeats Creek and Colorado River confluence, and an EMT hiked out to us.
Inbound NPS helicopter:
The EMT conducted triage, and removed my boot to reveal what my buddy aptly described as a cankle.
Two debates then ensued. The first debate was timing: was there enough daylight left for an extraction before nightfall. Apparently, this was touch and go as the helicopter (as I understood) needed to return to base for "short haul" gear. Worst case scenario, the three of us would bivouac in place overnight. My buddy told the EMT that we would happily share our stash of Woodford Reserve (used only for medicinal purposes, ofc). The EMT looked at me and said that under no circumstances could I drink alcohol; and then with perfect deadpan, looked at my buddy and said: no reason I (EMT) cannot have a shot.
So, if nothing else, humor was not lost.
Then second debate was whether my buddy would accompany me on the helicopter medevac or need to hike out. Ultimately, despite my repeated protestations, my buddy would need to hike out. However, he would travel via the faster Deer Creek - Bill Hall - Indian Hollow route back to the Jeep (instead of the original, but far longer, plan of Kanab Creek - JumpUp Canyon).
Meanwhile the remaining helicopter crew made good turn around time. Another EMT soon appeared with the "short haul" gear, including something called the "screamer suit". He then suited me up while explaining the origins of the name. I was thinking the name a misnomer, and told EMT #2: "ball crusher" would be more appropriate.
EMT #2 explained it was best just lean back, and enjoy the ride; and I did just that: once airborne, I leaned back, relaxed and enjoyed the ride. I really did. ( A bit of personal history ... years ago during my military service, I completed jump school, and have a number of parachute jumps under my belt, so the short haul experience was not all that different.)
The helicopter deposited us at Tapeats Creek beach, and then landed so we could board. I then made my way to the hospital in Flagstaff, where I met up with my wife.
My buddy safely reached the Indian Hollow Trailhead on Day 4, after spending the night of Day 2 just off the river, just east of the shady rock outcropping, and the night of Day 3 at the Deer Creek campsite.
The Lesson:
I share this story on this public forum because I think it serves as a sort of case study, and demonstrates the importance of:
- Planning
- Proper redundancy
- Improvisation
- Self awareness
- Knowledge of the environment
- And maybe, most importantly, positive attitude