Happy Holidays from my Household to Yours!

Joe, Ian, Wicket (angry cat), Joe and Bo The Dog

Little LO Canyon

On July 14 my buddy Matt and I descended Little LO Canyon in the northeast corner of Sycamore Canyon Wilderness. It was the most technical canyon I've done to date in that it had a "keeper" pothole and a deadman's rappel. A "keeper" feature is essentially the equivalent of a bug jumping into a glass of water that's only partially full: yes, you got in the glass....but can you get out? To escape this particular keeper was relatively easy to do via a buddy boost (aka Indian boost). I boosted Matt out, swam back to the where we had rappelled in, rope climbed up to a ledge, pulled and stacked the rope, jumped back in the pool from said ledge, swam across, and was lifted out by Matt pulling on one end of the coiled rope while I clung to the other. It wasn't super difficult but the problem solving nature of escaping the pothole was a fun challenge in itself.

The Deadman is an anchor built off a non-fixed rock that weighs less than the rappeler. You then stack anything else you can find on this rock to try to ensure it won't move. This particular Deadman was already built and was placed above the lip of the rappel ledge, giving the rappeler some extra rope friction against the slot canyon as he/she descends. The anchor held well, not budging an inch. No, a Deadman anchor is not ideal but sometimes it's all you have.

Technical aspects aside, Little LO has an amazing set of narrows that seems to stretch for at least a mile. While it did take 90+ minutes of rock hopping down a creek bed and getting cut my locust bushes in order to reach the top of the narrows, it was well worth it. Enjoy the shots.

Matt at the top of the Narrows.

First wade

Looking down the 30ft chute that fed the keeper pothole

Matt goes first

Below the keeper was another pothole that was easily escaped

and then a butt slide/jump to this narrow pool.

Slot Shot

Rapping off the Deadman

Slot Shot # 2

Disclaimer: Canyoneering is epic but is inherently dangerous. Stupid people die stupid deaths. You are responsible for your actions, not anyone else. That includes the author of this blog.

Tonto Creek - June 28 - July 1

For anyone wanting to attempt this trip, I have to issue a disclaimer. This is a true wilderness experience for intermediate level or higher outdoor enthusiasts. As the sign at the trailhead attests, if you get hurt back here, you are probably on your own for at least several days, maybe period. There are long swims, some sketchy down climbing, and lots of tough, tough slogging. Go when temps are in the 90s or 100s so you don't risk hypothermia. Excellent footware is a must; I suggest the 5.10 Canyoneering shoe. You'll need a pack with grommets to drain water or you'll be breaking your back after every swim triples the weight of what you are carrying. Dry bags inside the pack will keep your gear safe and also add some buoyancy for the nearly constant swimming. Finally and most importantly, if there's a significant CHANCE of rain, DO NOT ATTEMPT THIS TRIP. You will die in a flash flood and we'll all be reading about you thinking, "What a moron....didn't he see the disclaimer?". Don't be that guy.

Part of Tonto Creek lays in the Hell's Gate Wilderness Area near Payson, AZ. To descend it is to commit to an epic 2.5-4 day hike down what one author calls the "grand daddy of Mongollon Rim canyons". I couldn't agree more.

My roommate (also named Joe) and I successfully navigated this 22 mile trip over 3.5 days by hiking roughly seven miles overland to the confluence of Haigler and Tonto Creeks (the actual "Hell's Gate"). Though this was not an easy portion to open up with, it was a trail. The next 15 miles is more of route: you follow Tonto Creek as it meanders and cuts through red quartzite, pink granite, and numerous volcanic formations gorges, many of them flooded with crystal clear water. To do this, we would rock hop 'til we came to a pool, wade in 'til it got deep, swim to the other side, and repeat with the next section. Yes, it's slow going at about a mile/hour on average, but with the geology changing around every bend, 100 degree temps making the many pools down right inviting, and not another soul in sight for ALL of the trip, we certainly didn't object.

For your viewing pleasure ladies and gentlemen, I give you the mighty Tonto:

One of the first major pools

Near the first night's camp

Polished pink rock (granite?) that dominate a fair portion of the upper canyon

One of the first wades on Day # 2

Undulating shapes and crystal clear water.... perfection

Me cliff jumping into a deep pool just above camp on Day # 2

Other Joe's turn

Okay, so this shot is crap but the smooth gray rock of this section, though brief, was a place I could only have previously imagined. The canyon dropped into this narrow gorge forming small water falls and a natural arch......very cool.

Swimming again

Tidal wave wall

Saguaro x2 and blooming agave at small but wide bend in canyon

100 foot face across from Day # 3's camp

Other Joe navigating the beautiful but slippery pink granite section

More awesome shapes and colors

Me above one of two large waterfalls in the final section of Tonto

Same pool above the waterfall....you could swim right up to the top of the falls and look over

Waterfall from below (easily descended on creek left....the next fall which I didn't get a picture of was much more challenging to descend....some parties may want a rope though that be a pain to carry for 22 miles.....)

Babe's Hole Canyon

Babe's Hole Canyon is located in the northeast corner of the Sycamore Canyon Wilderness Area. It's a great entry level technical canyon with gorgeous Coconino sandstone slots accented by crystal clear flowing water (at least when we did it). There's a total of four rappels from natural anchors if you start descending from the highest point possible. This was my first trip down Babe's and my roommate Ian's first technical canyoneering trip period. I think we'll both be back to do it again next spring. For more specific info on this canyon, I suggest picking up "Arizona Technical Canyoneering" by Todd Martin.

Some pics:

45 minutes of rock hopping down basalt with numerous springs a flowin' will bring you to the.....

....first rappel down into Babe's bowels!


Looking down into rappel # 2

Prepping for the 2nd rappel

The church has failed this soul.....
(side note: both hands should be on the rope at all times!)

Ian rockin' rappel # 4 (rap # 3 was short and unworthy of recording)

Babe's Narrows

One of many frogs we saw

Ok, so a canyoneer's worse nightmare is the rope getting stuck so that you can't pull it after rappelling. Obviously this could be disastrous if you have 4 raps and get it stuck on rap # 1, 2, or 3. We got the rope stuck on # 4 of 4 and almost had to cut the rope........ after some serious elbow grease we were able to free it. Victory shot followed.

View of Little LO Canyon from above on the burly hike out (Babe's connects to this canyon).

Hannah Hot Springs

Greetings friends, allies, and stalkers. It's been a while since I've posted anything on this site but life has continued nonetheless. I've had a couple of really cool adventures so far this summer. First up is Hannah Hot Springs.

Myself and a group of five friends and three dogs visited Hannah in the lower end of the Blue Range Primitive Area over Memorial Day weekend. This was my second trip to this magical area of Chihuahuan desert and meandering slot canyons, of geology that's as varied as it is challenging. I could talk for days about this place, but Todd of Todd's Hiking Guide does it so much more concisely: http://toddshikingguide.com/Hikes/Arizona/East/East3.htm .
So instead of a trip report, I'll just post the pics of our great trip:

Main house of the now abandoned but well preserved XXX Ranch

with Lara and Jerry's Dog Choppo on the porch.

The deep "Emerald Pool" below Hannah Hot Springs (the slot canyons above Hannah are quite the sight but I didnt' carry my camera up that far....)

White Rock Cabin on a bench above Dutch Blue Creek




Dutch Blue Narrows




The sticks jammed high above the existing water line a testament to the power of flash floods.







Parting shot:


Bo the Dog enjoying the Hot Springs at 130 F (the rest of us could only tolerate the pools below where the hot spring water and cool creek water mingled).

Spring Break No More? Or Joe vs. Wild – Part 237 of Infinity

The plan was to drive from Flagstaff to Sheep's Bridge (see shot above) on the edge of the Mazatzal Wilderness on Monday, car camp there that night, then spend 2 nights/3 days traversing some stellar back country. The company was Joe, Corey, myself, and the dogs, Bo and Dexter. The drive from I-17 to Sheep's Bridge is via the treacherous Bloody Basin Road, named for some violent Native American - American settler encounters in the 1800s but also littered with many a vehicle that careened off one its frequent precipitous edges. The "road" is dirt, it's rocky, there are three creeks to drive across, and it takes between 90 and 120 minutes to complete its 38 miles. But it is well worth it. The Verde River greets you at the end, and beyond one of the least visited wilderness's in the lower 48. That's the backdrop to this story:

So we arrive in one piece. Great. We set up our camp at the base of the bridge and enjoy this sunny afternoon. After a few hours, I decide to take Bo and Dexter for a walk to the unmanned gauging station some 3/4 mile down river. It's a leisurely walk down an open flood plain. I wear flip flops and take my time, get to the station, snap a shot of it against the setting sun, and begin to head back to camp. Instead of retracing my steps along the flood plain, I think it will be faster to take the jeep trail leading from the gauge to the bridge. Smart thinking. Except....

About 5 minutes down the road, Bo breaks into a sprint with Dexter in tow (Dexter would follow Bo off the Golden Gate Bridge in a heartbeat....he's loyal to his buddy but not exactly bright). I see them surrounding what I think is a rattle snake in the middle of the path about 50 feet ahead of me. I start screaming my head off with fears of both dogs falling dead right there. Dexter grabs the snake, shakes it violently, drops it, and heads back with Bo seemingly unscathed. I do a quick check and decide that they didn't get bit. I look back towards the snake and as the dust clears, see that it's not a snake at all. Approaching cautiously, I come face to face with a foot long, plump black lizard with pink spots covering it's body. It hisses at me as I near to get a photo of this strange beast. Suddenly, it all clicks. This is a Gila Monster. The toxins in its saliva attack the neurological system, causing hypotension, dysrhythmias, seizures and theoretical death. This is the first one I've seen in my life and my dog just had to assault it......

Dexter (brown) and Bo about 30 minutes before the Incident.

The Gauging Station

A sand covered and none too happy Gila Monster (I zoomed in for this shot)

Since the dogs seemed fine, I don't rush back to camp. When we get there some 10 minutes later and I relay the story to my buddies, Joe points out that the left side of Dexter's jaw is swelling. I hadn't noticed this but it's happening. He's drooling a mixture of saliva and blood. It's clear he was bit. I know very little about Gila Monster venom other than it's potentially dangerous, one of only two venomous lizards in all of North America. This dog needs a vet and I've got a long drive ahead of me on a dangerous road with darkness fast approaching. It's time to go.

Joe and Corey stay (with my agreement) to do the planned trip. I start driving like a bat out of hell on a road made by hell's minions, fully aware that this is not good for my Honda CRV. The clock is ticking though. Drive. Drive. Drive. 38 miles to go. It's 6:08pm. As I drive I continue to check Dexter. He's conscious but the swelling is getting worse. His breathing seems accelerated but maybe that's just because he's picking up on my fear and emulating it.

"You guys suck. I'm totally out of here".

My muffler, which I knicked on the way in, is the first thing to go. The car now sounds like a giant lawn mower. I push on, abusing the car but not caring. Drive. Drive. Drive. It's 6:25. 6:32. 6:49. 7:02. 7:10 - a loud noise, like something slapping the side of the vehicle, begins and only gets more intense. Against my rush of adrenaline, I stop to see if I caught a branch or something in my axle. No. That would be too simple to deal with. Instead, it's a flat, no shredded, rear passenger side tire. I'm not the most mechanically inclined person on Earth. I jumped a car two weeks ago for a friend and had to review the procedure on-line before attempting. But, necessity is the mother of all invention. I'd add that it's the mother of everything, all the time, anywhere. I change the tire on a vehicle that's on a 15 degree rock incline in the darkness of night with a potentially dying dog in my car. The race against the clock continues.

Back in the car. Drive. Drive. Drive. At some point I get Lara on the phone, give her the details. She calls animal poison control and the 24 hour vet in Flagstaff. I try calling her back but there's no signal. At roughly 8:45pm, I reach the pavement of I-17 and fill up the gas tank. I get a hold of Lara and hear that this toxin is rarely fatal, but it's also rare that dogs are bitten. Gila aren't like rattlers. They're docile and lethargic. You have to want to get bit. Dexter found out how to make that happen. Are we in uncharted waters here? The vet later relays that this is the first time she's ever treated a dog with a Gila Monster bite. Drive. Drive. Drive.

Dexter is still conscious. Swelling continues to be noticeable. At Camp Verde (where no 24 hour vet exists), roughly 50 miles from Flagstaff, the front driver side of the car begins to shake. The whole car begins to shake. If this is another flat I'm just going to give up, lay down on the side of the road, and hope Dexter makes it through the night. I don't have another spare. The tires are fine though. I inspect the CV joint. It's undamaged. The axle? Looks fine. They I see fluid dripping from the strut. I broke the seal. This is going to be expensive. There's also the matter of the muffler and a new tire. A greater priority is at hand though. Can the vehicle make it to Flag? We'll see. Drive. Drive. Drive.

At 50 mph, it takes way longer to get to Flagstaff than my normal lead-footed ways. At this point it's been such a challenge to get there that I half expect to get pulled over a block from the vet. It doesn't happen. My "luck" holds. The vet is in. She inspects Dexter while I wait in a different area. I'm relieved to hear that he looks great, his blood pressure and EKG are normal. We are fortunate though. Despite the flat tire, blown strut, and road of ruination, the Gila made contact with Dexter for a fraction of a second at most. Typically, they latch on to their attacker like a pit bull and frequently must be removed with pliers. The entire time their toxic saliva is leaching into the unfortunate victim. Their teeth are designed like our baby teeth; they break off throughout life and quickly are replaced. During the "latching" these teeth are deposited into the recipient's tissue, festering, increasing the toxin load. And the toxins, while again are rarely fatal, are also not to be taken lightly:

"Symptoms of the bite include excruciating pain, edema, and weakness associated with a rapid drop inblood pressure. More than a dozen peptides and proteins have been isolated from the Gila monster's venom, including hyaluronidase, serotonin, phospholipase A₂, and several kallikrein-like glycoproteins responsible for the pain and edema caused by a bite. Four potentially lethal toxins have been isolated from the Gila monster's venom, including horridum venom, which causes hemorrhage in internal organs and exophthalmos (bulging of the eyes)[1], and helothermine, which causes lethargy, partial paralysis of the limbs, and hypothermia in rats". - Wikipedia (honestly the best researched source I could find!)

Dexter is home now. He'll need antibiotics and pain meds for the next week, but should be fine. My car will need a lot more than that. My annual Spring Break foray into the Mazatzals will have to take it's own vacation this year. It's a bummer, but so what? Life doesn't care about your plans most of the time. It knocks you down. You get back up. It knocks you down again. Your highest responsibility is to return to the fight, take care of the ones you love, and look forward to the next round.

The last we saw of our new friend.