Back in May 2018 while we were camping in White Pocket, my good friends Kellie and Shannon asked me how I would feel about hiking down into the Grand Canyon to see the confluence where the Little Colorado River meets the Big Colorado River. They had secured permits and were looking for a few more people to fill out the group. Now anyone that knows me knows I generally say a big fat ‘yes’ to any adventure, big or small, but I have to admit I was nervous about this one. Everything I had heard about GC hikes was that they were long, technical and extremely demanding both physically and mentally. Despite this, I’ve never been one to let a little hard work stop me from going for it, so I agreed to join, and spent the next 10 days panicking and wondering how best to back out.
We planned to drive up to Flagstaff the night before the hike, take a quick nap and then head to the trail head around 3am so that we could get started early before the sun hit. When we finally arrived, it was safe to say none of us had gotten much sleep and we were all feeling a little groggy, but nevertheless we were excited to hit the trail and reach paradise!
The first hour or so of the hike was pure scrambling, climbing down big boulders on loose rock trails, following nothing but cairns for directions, meaning that the going was slow and careful. Having big backpacks affects your balance a lot more than you would expect, so it’s really important to take things slow. A stumble could turn into a really big fall with a pack on your back as the weight shifts!
Halfway down the trail, we were feeling pretty good about the progress we were making, and as I’ve often found, it was this moment when things took a slight turn for the worse! Shannon stumbled on some rock and as she landed, she took on a giant cactus that unfortunately won. We spent the next 15 minutes or so using tweezers and pliers to pull as many of the cactus spines out of her leg, knee and hand as we could before the pain really set in. I was so impressed with how well Shannon and the rest of the team handled the situation, and before we knew it we were back out on the trail, despite Shannon still carrying a few hundred cactus hairs in her leg and hands and the pain really starting to intensify.
Our pit stop wouldn’t have been such a problem had it not been for the sun. When hiking into the canyon, because of the high walls, the sun is blocked for a good part of the morning and allows you to walk in shade far longer than you usually would on most hikes. However, the downside is that when the sun does come up over the walls, you are COMPLETELY EXPOSED. We still had 2 hours of hiking to go and nowhere to shelter from the sun. We powered on but our pace was slowed by the heat and the fact that most of our final descent was back to the intense scrambling we had faced at the start of our hike. By the time we reached our initial destination at the water’s edge, we were all severely dehydrated, despite bringing around 5.5 litres of water each, and we were desperate to get to the campsite to put up our tents and finally get some shade.
When we finally reached our resting spot, none of us were in good shape, with Kellie in full on heat exhaustion mode, and the rest of us feeling pretty deflated and irritable. We quickly put up our tents to get a bit of shade, dunked our tshirts in the water to lay over Kellie and waded into the water to cool down. By this time it was about 1pm and we mostly sat around discussing how much we had underestimated this hike and drawing straws at who was going to hike back out to call the rest of us a helicopter. We drank lots of water and had a bite to eat, and after about 2 hours of alternating between naps and swimming, we started to feel a little better, but still felt like we were going to have to cut the trip short.
The original plan had been to spend 3 days and 2 nights in the canyon, using the second day to hike the 6 miles from the campsite to the confluence of the Big and Little Colorado Rivers. After realising just how demanding the hike down was, we were feeling pretty confident that we needed to get out of there as soon as possible and felt as though we had bitten off more than we could chew trying to make it to the confluence. Bearing in mind that we probably only saw two other groups during the 7 hours to the bottom, we knew the area was remote and we didn’t want to find ourselves in trouble running out of water or food or getting sick in the middle of nowhere. So we made a plan to hike out the next day, settled into the shade of our tents and passed out for a few more hours.
A little while later, a group passed through our campsite and we started chatting to them, and they told us how they’d been down to the area before and that the confluence was a straight 3 hour walk from where we were, and there was no bushwhacking involved, contrary to what we had thought. With Kellie still feeling unwell, we knew it was unlikely she was going to want to go, but the rest of us felt like we’d made it that far and didn’t want to leave without seeing what we’d come for. The more time we spent resting, the better we felt and the more we thought the confluence was doable. We finally headed to bed Saturday night with a plan for three of us to hike to the confluence and back in the early hours of the morning and then to hike out of the canyon later that day on our return with the others.
When we woke up the next morning, we were surprised at how much better we all felt, and decided as a group to make the trip to the confluence. We sourced a freshwater supply nearby to our camp thanks to a tip from our friends the night before, and we knew once we made it to the confluence we could fill our bladders up at the Big Colorado without having to filter it.
The hike to the confluence was long and straight, roughly 6 miles and mostly unmarked. We followed along the water, only knowing we had to look for part of a fence that would tell us when to cross.
We finally reached the confluence around 2pm and were absolutely blown away by the views. I still to this day have never seen anything that has taken my breath away like that did. Something about the water between the two rivers never meeting and the vivid colour of the LCR.
We spent close to 3 hours swimming, playing and relaxing by the confluence, astounded by the warm water of the LCR in comparison to the freezing, icy water of the BCR. This place truly cannot be captured in a photo, and it’s indescribable to see it in person. We had the whole place to ourselves until we were just about to leave and a raft boat floated down the river and pulled up on the beach next to where we were to take a break. They were on a 4 day trip from further up the Colorado and were surprised to see us there! We packed up our things, filled our water bottles and bladders, and started the 6 miles back to camp, wanting to get back before it was too dark for the river crossings. Despite the distance, this place is honestly one of the most peaceful places I’ve ever been and the hike back was mostly silent, save for our heavy breathing and the occasional request for a snack from a backpack pocket, or chapstick for our sun scorched lips. We reached camp around nightfall, making our last river crossing in the dark with headlamps, and we got our things together in preparation for the hike out the next day. We all had tons of food left over so in an effort to lighten our packs, we had a grand feast that last night, eating until we were moments from sleep.
We woke up at 3am the next morning to start our hike out, in an effort to beat the sun out the of canyon. We packed up the tents and sleeping pads, lazily brushed our teeth, and set off bushwhacking through about a mile and a half of 6ft tall bamboo and sawgrass along the rivers edge back to the helipad that marked the start of our ascent. The one thing we all remarked on on the way out was how much easier it was hiking out than it was hiking in, but how much harder it was to spot the cairns. We got lost 3 times and had to go back on ourselves to find our way again before we reached the final segment of the hike out. The last mile or so is straight up rock climbing and bouldering, with steep, craggy rocks and demanding reaches on your way out of the canyon. There were definitely times when I felt like that last bit of the hike was never ending, but thoughts of the powerade’s back in the car were enough to drive us forward.
In the end it took us 5 and a half hours to get out compared to the 7 hours it took us to get in (albeit including Shannon’s fall and recovery time) and it’s safe to say that a few of us shed some tears getting out at the top (I was basically bawling with relief and pride at what we had accomplished and the fact that we’d survived altogether) and although none of us were too excited to cram back into the car to get back to the road, we knew that civilisation and cold drinks were waiting for us at the end of the drive.
This trip also marked the beginning of our post-hike Olive Garden tradition too, one that Shannon and I in particular have not let die down since! Something about unlimited breadsticks and pasta after 3 days in the Grand Canyon will have you salivating faster than you can say hello. It makes me laugh thinking back to what we must’ve looked like, coming in fresh out of the canyon after 3 days – all of us broken and exhausted, but exhilarated and fired up by our memories of the adventure we’d just had at the same time. I think the servers at the Prescott Olive Garden must think we’re homeless or something due to the states we always seem to be in when we find ourselves there. I often tell Shannon we should go there decked out sometime just so they know that we can look presentable 😂.
This trip was such a bucket list for me, and for the rest of the group I think too. So much so, that we’ve decided to go again this year, hoping our experience will be a little less traumatic with the lessons that we’ve learned and the knowledge that we gained. Either way, this trip was such a turning point for me; teaching me how much my body can handle, that I get really stroppy when I’m hot and hungry, that oranges make the best snack when you’re dying of dehydration, that preparation is beyond key, and that sometimes you just have to keep moving forward, even if it is just one step at a time.
I hope you guys enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed reliving it on paper (or digital screen at least) and I hope that it inspires you to go out and find your own adventure, whether it be locally or somewhere far away – for just a day, or for multiple nights. Experiences like these, as challenging as they may be, will often last a lifetime, and are worth more than money or material objects could ever be. No matter who you are, where you live or where you come from – everybody deserves to live out an adventure – and 2019 should be the year you stop talking about it and make it happen!
Wishing you all the best adventures in 2019!
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The BackRoad Brit 