No week long trip can start it seems without some drama... Leading into the trip solidly we had a few drop out last minute and most of the rest of the crew seemed threatening to drop out, myself included. Seems like work is universally consuming everyone right now, so feeling wholly unready for a week of travel thru the remote regions of Utah, but also wholly needing it, I set off for green river to start our complicated shuttle logistics. Andrew and I met up in green River to drop a car and start the trek to the put in, I had planned to come from the north per so many recommendations online but, as luck would have it, udot closed the highway thru Indian canyon, joy, we would get to try wrinkles road which has a reputation, with no info as the sun was setting! It turns out the road was fine, in better shape actually than the road in from Myton to the north, it even had occasional cell service due to an unexpected oil and gas chemicals plant.
Sand Wash at night as intermittent electical storms move through
A collection of moments
Day 1:
A ranger loosely resembling a young and more river-rat esque Zach galafanakis checked out permits
Flat. So flat that even Lindsay went for a bit of a swim in the murky water. It was sandy bottomed but i was surprised at the fish life in these waters, we did not expeience anywhere near this number of jumps or other signs further downstream, that is heartening in a world where it seems like so much is on the decline.
The Desolation Canyon put in seems remote, i mean its 30+ miles down a dirt road regardless of how you get there, but rounding the corner above Tabyago riffle, we are greeted with a white Tacoma, presumably someone from the Ute Reservation. I cant help but wonder what they are doing here, maybe just here to enjoy the river? I sure would if i lived closer.
A moment of peace at our first camp
We make it to camp, which is set back amongst the trees and shrubs. It seems we humans are drawn to corridors among the shrubs as this camp ends up ranking high amongst the group, though i prefer open beach camps. We enjoyed dinner under the cottonwoods and took a brief walk to a large rock outcropping behind camp to see a small petroglyph panel.
Day 2:
I woke up shortly after dawn and made my way back down to the river while half the group was sleeping. A beaver was already at work in the river, swimming in the eddy next to camp taking advantage of the waning summer days.
After a short time on the river we pull over to try and find a turtle shell print in the rock. We all get out and fan out, scouring the cliffbands looking for a layer that seems like it would hold fossils. We all overlook the obvious and after 15 minutes of looking, we glance over to the opbvious boulder at the base of the cliffs holding a perfect turtle shell imprint on its top.
The rapids begin, though haltingly. We ran through rock house rapid which was nothing much to talk of. The river picks up pace a bit but remains largely flat. Somewhere around lunchtime we have made it to mushroom rock and we take a quick detour to see the petroglyphs. On the way back I did a quick V-tree scramble traverse of a funky old cottonwood.
The crew examining mushroom rock
We eventually find camp, a beautiful beach in an Eddy between two drops with steep canyon walls above, with a first class site overlooking the river. We are around our makeshift dining table, a giant triangular slab, complete with evening entertainment of a herd of big horns navigating their way to the rim as the sun fell.
Everyone gathered around the dinner table for some desert, worms and dirt!
Day 3:
Shortly after setting off, I spot two massive birds circling the right canyon wall, as we get closer one lands. I bearly catch a glimpse, it's two giant golden eagles gorging themselves on a breakfast catch.
Desolation, peaceful in the morning light
We have some stout winds to look forward to today, or so the forecast says, never the less we take a quick detour to see the flat canyon petroglyph panel and wonder what those who came before us were trying to convey.
Back on the water we are met with the occasional stout gust but things are mostly workable. Just after Dripping Spring, though, a gust catches Hannah as she is broadside to it and flips her, the first and only unexpected swim of the trip. Luckily, after years of trips, the crew is dialed, with some going to grab Hannah, and others immediately fetching gear before the wind and canyon claim it. The wind continues and so do we, we want to make miles so we can wait out the worst of the gusts while hiking, or that's the plan at least. As we round the bend above steer ridge, we discuss waiting for a break in the gusts as this should be a class 3 and this more complex than most of what we have run so far. The wind seems to die down and I commit to going first. Just as I hit the first of the drop, one of the strongest gusts we have seen hits, blowing me back up the rapid. What would have been a relatively straightforward class 2 at this flow becomes more of a hazard because we are being tossed around at the whim of the wind. The group is noticably shaken so we circle up at steer ridge camp and discuss. The group quickly comes to a consensus to continue and try to make our hike, Hannah, however, still shows signs of concern, and as the newest member of the group it seems she doesn't want to speak up. We start over and discuss again, this time with Hannah leading off about her concerns, amplified by her swim. The group is decided again, this time we wait it out, wait for the wind to die. When paddling especially, I am a big believer of respecting every veto and not going forward unless everyone is in agreement as accidents can quickly turn deadly with whitewater involved.
We are marooned on a beach, continuously getting sand blasted by the highway speed gusts. Some try to sleep. Lindsay sets up a hammock and appears to be going for quite a ride. A few windblown hours later I had had enough of our marooned beach and was getting restless. It seems the others were not excited about the prospect of overnighting at the beach either. A few whistle blasts gets the crew to circle up as some had wandered off. In short order it is decided, we brave the wind and continue; the worst of the gusts have subsided.
The girls during the nightly bath ritual
Little more than an hour later we make it to camp at Snap Canyon, bypassing the ope of hiking up rock creek, that will have to wait for the next time we go through deso-grey. At Snap, everyone gets in the water to "bathe" and clean off some sand that has found its way everywhere.
Sunset at Snap Canyon Camp
Day 4:
A long day. The Goal? Range creek which should have clean water for us to pump. We also have 3 of the 4 big rapids today to run through.
Cotton Candy Sunrise at Snap Canyon as mixed thunderstorms move through
A little more than an hour into our float we run down a side channel with the hope of finding a mid-channel spring to draw water from. Not knowing anything about this spring other than that there is an island and this spring should be at the downstream end. We fan out scouring the island, then notice a black looking pit on far river left next to the island. Thats it! In the middle of the desert, in the bottom of the river channel is a spring of perfectly clear and cold water, a little oasis of clean water in the midst of this murky river.
Taking advantage of an oasis in the water, a spring in the water channel coming out clear and cold.
Joe Hutch Creek Rapid is much ado about nothing, we stop and scout nonetheless. Joe Hutch Canyon is our first proper Class 3, Andrew and i run boats through while others go around. On the beach downstream we see our first "outsider", Kevin, a retired ranger who is going solo down the canyon in his canoe. We are just to late to help him portage, but chat a bit before we head back up to run the remainder of the boats. Shortly after Joe Hutch we officially leave Desolation Canyon behind, a bit bittersweet as i thoroughly enjoyed seeing this stretch of the earth for the first time.
Leaving Desolation canyon and the Roan Cliffs behind
Wire Fence Looks nasty but turns out to be some fun waves on bedrock. We run boats through and head down to three fords. I opt to river scout the first drop, the rest of the crew pulls over early and walks the whole rapid. After the first drop there is a hard left, and just beyond things get difficult. At this point the boys are feeling good and we run through Three Fords, some huge fun waves and probably my favorite of the trip. Instead of running boats through we go back and help portage the remaining boats.
What we assume are fire hardened ground wasp/bee nests exposed by the fire at Range Creek
We get to range creek close to sunset. As we round the bend, i remember that this area was ravaged by a fire last year and the beautiful beaches and cottonwood groves i had been looking forward to were a thing of the past. Instead, we see countless scarred bones of old cottonwoods. We look for range creek, eventually finding it in a shallow box ravine, not nearly as clear as i had hoped. We dam up a small section with the hopes of pumping in the morning.
Walking through a forrest of bones. This grove will likely never recover.
Day 5:
The sky is angry. Dawn never really comes, the world slowly gets brighter but everything is still varying shades of dark grey. A light rain begins to fall. Around 8:30 during a break in the rain i make the run over to the "circus tent", our communal tent that Andrew was using during rainy periods on this trip. A short while later things really open up, pea to grape sized hail falls amidst rain that is causing flooding. The teepee style tent has no floor and water beginds to intrude so we dig channels to divert around the center to keep us dry. In watching the river is ee that things are beginning to come up fast. Andrew and i make a mad dash to pull all boats and gear further up the beach to ensure we dont loose anything to the flood. In the end, the river came up about 2 feet and tripled in voloume.
Range Creek, a now boatable torrent.
After breakfast things start to calm a bit. We take a group excursion to Range creek which i can tell has flashed because the river is a well divided red in the main channel and grey close to our beach. Range creek, which was a few feet wide and an inch or so deep last night is now a torrent that has filled its low box ravine, 10-15 feet wide and probably 5 feet deep. It looks like a great, if short, paddle but no one can be convinced to sieze this moment.
By the time we put in, the river has gone back down a foot but is still noticably higher, and now has large mats of debis filling every eddy.
At Coal Creek, the last "Large" rapid of the trip, we get out and scout alongside Kevin, who we have met up with again. We pass the remains of an effort to dam this river; I am glad we didnt, although there is a need for some water storage, it si becoming increasingly apparent that our water system in the west is broken and we have lost more than enough beautiful spots to the whims of "progress" during the golden age of dam building in the west 70 years ago.
Coal creek looks big, but not outrageous. The problem, a ginat pit of a hole at the bottom, something that would suck you in if you so much as looked at it. The waves are powerful, rejuvinated by the morning's flood. The boys opt to shuttle boats through, but we decide to first run everything over to the opposite side of the river as this will set us up better to avoid that pit of dispair.
On the way over, Davis isnt feeling it anymore and drops out, respect every veto. Andrew and i discuss, we both still feel good and we will have a few people watching for safety. There are a few must make moves but otherwise things dont look crazy. We commit to the rust colored water and what looked menacing turns out to be more relaxed, less pushy, but still with sizable waves. We return and run the remaining 4 boats through once the line is found.
Coal creek looks big, but not outrageous. The problem, a ginat pit of a hole at the bottom, something that would suck you in if you so much as looked at it. The waves are powerful, rejuvinated by the morning's flood. The boys opt to shuttle boats through, but we decide to first run everything over to the opposite side of the river as this will set us up better to avoid that pit of dispair.
On the way over, Davis isnt feeling it anymore and drops out, respect every veto. Andrew and i discuss, we both still feel good and we will have a few people watching for safety. There are a few must make moves but otherwise things dont look crazy. We commit to the rust colored water and what looked menacing turns out to be more relaxed, less pushy, but still with sizable waves. We return and run the remaining 4 boats through once the line is found.
Just as we near camp at School Section canyon, the sky clears up and the world seems bright and happy, as if to give us one last night of beautiful stars before we have to return to every day life, work, and the stresses of society. We spend our last night admiring the millions of stars, watching the Milky Way slowly rotate overhead.
Day 6:
Although we are in somehwat of a hurry, several people need to be back in society for jobs the following day, we have enough time to explore up School Section canyon. A few hundred yards out from camp i spot bear tracks in the wet sand, we must have had a friend come through the night before. We become childeren, allowing some short exploration, wondering what will be beyond the next bend in the canyon for a short while.
Some bear tracks just out of camp in the wet wash sand
Much too quickly, we have made it to the boat ramp and back into Green River for some late lunch at the Taco Truck. Here we part ways, Hannah back south to New Mexico, Davis and Lindsay back to Salt Lake for work, Andrew, Jennifer and I back to the put in to grab our vehicles before we go on as well. Driving through 9 Mile canyon, we allow a diverson to see a few of the rock art panels that 9 mile canyon is famous for, as we are here in the daylight this time and know the road ahead is not at all similar to its reputation.
One Final challenge. A few miles out from a paved road, on the windspept and now cold north slope of the Tavaputs, set amongst the many oil derricks, Andrew suddenly pulls over. He has lost his clutch. We have cell service, luckily, as we have been out of service for most of this 60 mile journey on dirt roads. Like the engineers we are, we dive in, looking at hydraulic systems, vacuum pumps, everything seems to be in order. Andrew decides to "do the stupid thing" and just look at the pedal... Sure enough the pedal linkage had rattled its way out and was now disconnected. A quick remedy and we carry on, making it back to Salt Lake around 10:30, Andrew stopping just outside Montecello around the same time to rest before his final leg back to Pheonix.
One Final challenge. A few miles out from a paved road, on the windspept and now cold north slope of the Tavaputs, set amongst the many oil derricks, Andrew suddenly pulls over. He has lost his clutch. We have cell service, luckily, as we have been out of service for most of this 60 mile journey on dirt roads. Like the engineers we are, we dive in, looking at hydraulic systems, vacuum pumps, everything seems to be in order. Andrew decides to "do the stupid thing" and just look at the pedal... Sure enough the pedal linkage had rattled its way out and was now disconnected. A quick remedy and we carry on, making it back to Salt Lake around 10:30, Andrew stopping just outside Montecello around the same time to rest before his final leg back to Pheonix.
Owl Panel in 9 Mile Canyon
Another successful trip, one that rejuvinates the soul. So much has been said of Deso-Grey, much of it seemingly diminishing, as this permit is "easier" to get and the rapids are not as legendary as other stretches nearby, but i found the trip wholly enjoyable and hope someday to return and see some of what we missed. This is the kind of place that you could spend a lifetime in and still not see everything.
