Its been a long and busy winter and now that "spring" is here (summer really, at this point) and I have slowly been shifting gears away from skiing towards other sports. In the in-between time after the bulk of ski season but before summer Alpine objectives are feasible, Lindsay and I have taken to the water on my alpacka and her raft that we made literally out of just fabric sheets.
Lindsay and Raft
The long winter has blessed Utah and Colorado with a bountiful and deep snowpack. That combined with a cool spring have left the Utah skyline region, boulder mountain, and the Tushar peaks among others with a deep snowpack even into summer. The streams and rivers descending out of these high regions, normally experienced as hikes through mostly dry river beds, have come to life with sloshing and bubbling chocolate milk colored water. Given the newly minted packraft, Lindsay and I set out to make the most of what would end up being an unusually long melt season for these fleeting highways and low-ways of water through the desert.
Floating Down the Virgin River
Over Memorial Day, continuing our memorial day Zion shenanigans (last year we did an overnight bigwall on Sheer Lunacy), we went for another non-standard activity to both escape and marvel at the crowds - floating the virgin river. Prior to launch a permit must be obtained, and the ranger on duty was highly skeptical of our plan. She was concerned we didnt have spare boats, paddles, etc. When, in reality, this is probably the most forgiving section of class 2 water in the world; if something happens you pull over and just take a bus back to civilization. With permit in hand, we boarded the bus with hoards of other day tripper tourists. Many were curious, as we had paddles and PFDs but didn't appear to have boats, leaving them quite confused and questioning if they should have the same. One of the subtle joys of the packraft, you can go stealth and look like you are just out for a hike.
Cruising past spectators, courtesy of our new friend Gary
From the temple of Sinawava bus stop, we hiked along the river until the riverside trail ended. With flows at around ~350 CFS the river looked nothing like it had last year when we crossed easily with haulbags and backpacks. Lindsay was a bit nervous but i was looking forward to the excitement. On our way down we were quite the spectacle i suppose, as people lined the shores and bridges of the river to take pictures of us after hearing some hooting and hollering emanating from somewhere upriver.
More river photos courtesy of our new friend Gary
Opting to get away from the crowds a bit more, the following weekend we pointed the car southeast towards "the swell", the San Rafael river and a section of Utah I have not yet explored. This trip would be grander in all aspects other than white water difficulty. At class 1 in this section, the San Rafael river cuts a swiftly flowing but quite smooth channel through the surrounding rock in an area known as the "Little Grand Canyon". Familiar rock layers stack up forming the deep canyon walls, however the proportions are different leading them to be seen as new and different: Navajo sandstone of Zion fame, the parralell fracturing Wingate sandstone of Indian Creek, and finally, coconino sandstone that I have not seen in some time but that is prolific all over northern and central Arizona. This area is one of the longest continuously inhabited spaces of the American west
Linsdsay entering the canyon proper.
Over the first weekend of June, hoping for fewer crowds than were in Zion, we took a trip down to the "Little Grand Canyon" of the San Rafael river on the western edge of the San Rafael Swell. The area behind the San Rafael Reef is an area that i have yet to explore. Primarily composed of many of the local sandstone favorites: Navajo that makes the sweeping walls of Zion and Wingate that creates the amazing splitter cracks of Indian Creek; however the proportions were off from what i am used to. Interspersed among these sweeping sandstone walls are the remnants of ancient cultures that have passed through the area.
Vivid colors in the Little Grand Canyon
The weekend began at a swift moving bend in the river among large groups. The river generally only flows for a few weeks in spring so everyone was out to get it while it was good! Winding through flat desert with quicksand shores, the first several miles went by quickly. When the before long the walls started to rise up around us. Making the 17 mile journey into an overnight trip allowed ample time to explore the many side canyons, which left us wondering what might lay around the next bend. There are several pictographs that line the canyon from the barrier canyon people who passed through, if not lived in the area, between 2 and 3 thousand years ago.
Stars rise over the little grand canyon of the San Rafael River
The next morning greeted us with a bright but not yet too warm desert sun and the same swiftly flowing narrow channel of chocolate water. Floating on, we passed sweeping walls and towers, spliter cracks galore that were begging to be climbed, and we arrived at the bridge to take out before long. Our return journey would be facilitated by bicycles. I took the malfunctioning cyclocross hardtail that had effectively two gears, mountain crawler and highway cruise. Lindsay powered through on my commuter bike, with only a little help from it's electric motor. Buckhorn wash may not be known for road biking but man, what a way to end a float trip. It is a beautiful canyon and is lined in spots with rock art from both the barrier canyon and freemont peoples. Marveling at the abstract art painted in red and yellow and chipped into the sandstone patina offered a diversion from the 18 mile grind up the dirt road while carrying overnight gear and boats, but also maybe a chance for me to catch my breath and cool off a bit.
Setting up the bike shuttle as the sun sets behind the San Rafael Swell
Continuing the trend, and after checking the flow gauge all week to see if we would get a green light which finally came, we set off for muddy Creek the following weekend. Truly more mud than creek, I estimate visibility in the water at a quarter of an inch or less, which lead to tough rock detection and several rock encounters by both Lindsay and myself. Luckily, the packrafts are surprisingly durable and we had no issues with our watercraft.
Muddy class 2 fun
With an unexpected (at first) number of cars lined up at the put in, we decided for an Alpine start and river put in time of 730, which is very early for a river trip. We were certainly the first to float that day. With the river to ourselves, we were not necessarily in any rush but the constant beauty and occasional class 2 rapid kept us moving quickly onward. Before long we were in the 4 mile stretch for which everyone comes, named "the chute". An improbable float at best, and mostly experienced as a hike, the chute is a slot/box canyon that muddy Creek passes through. In some places it is as narrow as 7 feet with walls towering 300+ feet overhead. The area was too amazing to just pass through, but we couldn't seem to muster words other than "wow this is cool" or "this is so beautiful!"... So imaginative...
"The Chute" proper on Muddy Creek
4 hours after putting in we saw the telltale takeout, a mass of cars next to the creek. We packed up as others wondered as we packed our rafts into backpacks and hiked back to our bikes. Quite possibly the largest day on a bike ever, I got the pleasure of riding/walking the semi-broken cyclocross bike 2300 vertical feet up a rough dirt road, then 1800 vertical feet back down a rough dirt road with constant truck traffic. Only one comment on the whole journey, someone was kind enough to not spray is with dust and say " yeah man! Way to go with the self shuttle!" I do believe in human powered travel wherever possible, and packrafting lends itself nicely to that goal. After returning to the car we took the afternoon to check out the uranium mines that made the area known and supplied a road, which have all been abandoned. Before returning to salt lake, I noticed that there head of Sinbad, supposedly the most will preserved barrier canyon people artwork, was nearby. Unsure after driving the Subaru down what I can only describe as Sandy atv tracks at best, we parked before we got too far in and stuck, and set out on foot to find the artwork. While small (and unfortunately partially taken out by a water drip) it was amazingly vivid and well preserved. With a setting sun and several full weekends behind us, we set off back to home. I sit rewriting this post here in a Dallas bar, on travel for work (because Google decided to delete the last post) yearning for open space. I look forward what next week's packraft trip brings. Stay tuned for When the Desert Water Flows part 2 coming soon.
Bike Shuttling the Muddy Creek Chute
