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Grand Gulch, Utah December 3 – 10, 2006 Glenn Remelts & Peter Vander Meulen Introduction The word that comes to mind when I think of this trip is “delightful”. The trail was easy; a gradual upward slope with nary a willow or tamarisk in sight. The weather was predictably wonderful; every day offering the same bright sunshine, deepest blue sky, calmness, and clear and star-filled night skies. The temperature hovered around 40 during the day and 15 in the morning. I lost myself in resplendent sameness.
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Page 1: Grand Gulch, Utah

Grand Gulch, Utah

December 3 – 10, 2006

Glenn Remelts & Peter Vander Meulen

Introduction The word that comes to mind when I think of this trip is “delightful”. The trail was easy; a gradual upward slope with nary a willow or tamarisk in sight. The weather was predictably wonderful; every day offering the same bright sunshine, deepest blue sky, calmness, and clear and star-filled night skies. The temperature hovered around 40 during the day and 15 in the morning. I lost myself in resplendent sameness.

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Establishing the date happened in late summer, much later than previous years. I’m not sure how it came about that the trip was from Sunday to Sunday. The “blame” for the December date can clearly be attributed to Peter. He was traveling for six weeks during the months of October and November. He managed, during his travels, to contract malaria. He was very sick and spent four or five days in a

Romanian hospital not more than three weeks before the trip. (That story is worth telling!) The destination, Grand Gulch, was by mutual assent. Grand Gulch was the location of our first canyon hike back in 2000. The canyon and ruins made such an impression on us that we both, independently, had Grand Gulch as our first choice. We were excited to show Scott Koop what it was that hooked us on the canyons of Utah. In mid-September, I met Scott in the locker room at the MAC and he expressed an interest in taking a shorter, long weekend trip closer to home, maybe the Smokies. The real estate market in Grand Rapids was in the toilet, and Scott had sold only a handful of homes during the entire year and he was under considerable stress and feelings of guilt to stay home. Peter and I discussed Scott’s proposal the next weekend while vacationing at a beach house on Lake Michigan. Peter was adamant about being on the trail at least five days. It takes three days to detox, he argued. Going someplace “exotic”, he continued, was part of the adventure. The Smokies are what we see every day. Well, I couldn’t agree more. Peter e-mailed Scott his opinion of a long weekend trip. Not surprisingly, Scott removed himself from the planning. I was very disappointed. The three of us make a great team with our combined foibles and eccentricities. Delightful is not how I would describe our first night, however! Arriving at the Kane Gulch Ranger Station at 7:00PM after a mediocre dinner in Monticello and after riding in a warm car, we are assaulted by bitter cold. We strip off traveling clothes and don the clothes we will wear for six days in the comforting warmth of the heated Jeep. An hour ago, sitting in the restaurant, Peter and I discussed the intense cold. The temperature was near 5 degrees at 6:00PM! I offered the possibility that our wives may just be right – we are crazy. By light beamed from the headlights, we pitch the tents with numb fingers.

Day One: December 4 (4.5 miles) I am not surprised to see a zero reading on the thermometer this morning. We had a serious discussion about the feasibility of this trip. Peter used half his supply of chemical

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foot warmers last night. We decide to continue – for those who know us, that is not a surprise. But sound reasoning went into the decision. First, the next night we would be 1,200 feet lower and in a canyon instead of on an exposed mesa. These geographical differences have to translate into a five to seven degree improvement. Second, the long-range forecast predicted that the night of the 3rd (last night) would be the coldest during our trip. Taking those factors under consideration, we assumed the nighttime temperature would be higher than 10 and therefore survivable. As it turns out, nighttime temperatures never dipped below fifteen – downright balmy! What a difference six years makes! Back in 2000, the “ranger station” was a mobile home at the end of a dirt drive. We wake to see a full-blown welcome center. There is a paved parking lot, bathrooms and an actual ranger station. This makes me sad. But I am thankful for the opportunity to explore Grand Gulch before it became so popular. I wonder what the Gulch will be like in 2012? (2020 Comment: Now hikers must reserve an entry date permit. No more than twelve permits/day are given out per trailhead. While I didn’t know it or appreciate it back in 2006, that sense of wilderness is gone forever.) We fumble around in this dark and bitter cold Monday morning so that our packs will be ready by 7:00. Ben Black, of Black Hawk Tours, will pick us up at 7:00 to shuttle us to Collins Spring trailhead. 8:00 came and went. At 8:30 we decide to make breakfast and coffee and create a “Plan B”. Plan B turns out to be a twenty mile Bullet Canyon – Kane Gulch loop trip; the trip we planned six years ago. With day hikes, we can extend the route into a pleasant six day adventure. Ten minutes from executing the plan, a white F-350 careens into the parking lot and a large man jumps out. “Are you the guys that’ve been waiting an hour and half for a ride?” he announces. Turns out he got the dates wrong. He had been waiting yesterday morning for us and figured we bailed on the trip. This morning, while doing paperwork, he got to thinking, checked his schedule, and discovered his mistake. The thirty-five miles to the trailhead, of which thirty miles are on paved roads, take nearly an hour. Ben is a life-long resident of south east Utah. He tells us about his uranium mining days during the booming Sixties. “Didn’t work long in the mines, thank goodness,” he says. “Back then, everybody said there was no problem workin’ with uranium.” He added, “My boss, to prove uranium was safe, fashioned a necklace with a hot rock as the pendant and wore it. Funny thing,” Ben says dryly, “he died of cancer. The town was all watchin’ to see if his wife and kids got cancer. So far, nothing.” The last three or four miles test the suspension of the F-350. Then we are at the trailhead and Ben, our last tenuous hold on civilization, bounces out of sight. I look down Collins Canyon, enveloped by enormous silence, intense sunlight, and an endless blue sky, and think, “No turning back now!” (2020 comment: Being left in the wilderness with no easy or quick way back to civilization is a bit like skydiving and jumping out of an airplane.)

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Dang! We get off track within an hour of the trailhead! The joy of hiking and the distraction of the familiar yet ever new contours of the cliff walls make us lose track of our position and the time. A mile and a half, or one hour, from the trailhead is a junction. Turn right, and you end up at the Colorado River via the San Juan River. Turn left, and you hike back to the car at Kane Gulch trailhead. We turn right. When we are still heading downstream after two hours of hiking, I begin to think something is wrong. We should be heading upstream by now, I think. During lunch, we study the map carefully and discover that thirty minutes back we missed the junction. In our oblivious exuberance, we weren’t

paying attention to the trail! I was so pissed! A slight consolation is the fact that the junction is difficult to see even standing right on the spot. I vow to know where we are to within ten minutes for the remainder of the trip – a human GPS. With map and compass I note every bend, every bench, every swing of the compass needle. This slows me down. But that is okay because I am a faster walker than Peter and I am easily able to catch up. The system works! With confidence, I am able to calculate the distance to the next junction or arch to within fifteen minutes. By 3:00, Peter is feeling the effects of a frigid sleepless night so we stop at the first good camp site we find. It is a good site, off the stream, open, and with good sitting logs. We discovered early on that there

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was a large comfort difference based on how high we were off the stream. Typically, the air near the stream bed is damper and colder. Even five feet higher and thirty feet away makes a big difference. The first thing we do after pitching our tent is strip off our hiking clothes and put on our dry “evening attire” – winter long underwear, fleece, down jacket, thick gloves, and balaclava. Occasionally, we would also don our down booties when we got sick of hiking boots. This becomes the routine immediately after establishing camp because the sun usually set behind the cliffs around 3:30. The temperature plummets immediately, often dropping ten degrees in less than twenty minutes. Our internal furnaces needed fuel after walking in the cold, so we eat dinner around 4:00. The remainder of the afternoon, two hours before near darkness, is spent wandering about, reading, writing and gathering firewood. The physical state of water in December is something that didn’t enter my mind when we were planning this trip, but it played a big part. There is plenty of water because there are springs all along the stream bed in Grand Gulch. The problem is finding liquid water. Frozen pools, reminders of warmer days and flowing springs, dot the stream bed. Each pool has its own personality. Some are as clear and flawless as a diamond while others are milky. Some have “growth rings” documenting the twenty-four hour “fill and freeze” cycle; yesterday’s circumference is smaller than this morning’s circumference. Some have leaves embedded in the ice like insects in amber. Oddly, many of the leaves are vertical as if the water was flash-frozen. Some pools have only a milky shell of ice that can be cracked and shattered like china plates. Finally, some are so deep they are pure, hard blackness. Tonight, we are fortunate to camp by a large spring that is actually flowing. And, as it turns out, the only time. Springs are abundant in the canyon and easy to locate in winter. The rate of evaporation is much lower and frozen water is hard to hide. Beginning at the junction of Collins Canyon and Grand Gulch, springs are at Bannister Ruins, Deer Canyon, Government Trail, Cow Tank, Step Canyon, Green Canyon, Bullet Canyon, Coyote Canyon, Todie Canyon, and the Kane Gulch junction. This proliferation of water explains the large number of Anasazi structures. Walking upstream, springs announce their presence for a good half mile. The first clue is dark sand in the stream bed. Then, very small pools form in depressions on the downstream side of boulders. A few hundred yards further, large pools form in the outer bends under rock overhangs. We call these pools “tea water” because they have a thick layer of leaves that have been steeping for weeks. The water is light brown and has a slight smell of decay. This water is “emergency” water. We might fill our canteens with

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it, but dump it out when fresher water is available. The large pools under rock overhangs provide the best chance for water because the ice often is thin. Sometimes we resort to throwing large rocks at the ice to break holes big enough to insert a Nalgene bottle. We look rather brutish and desperate doing this!

It didn’t take us long to abandon our principles and build a fire. Staring into 6:00PM darkness and shivering against twenty degree temperatures trumps the standard reasons against fires. This is, we righteously reassured ourselves, the first time in six years of canyon hiking that we built a fire. In fact, I add, searing the conscience completely, this is only the second time in maybe ten years that I built a fire while backpacking. With consciences duly quieted, we set about collecting wood and constructing a small fire. Oh! Was it ever delightful! It was so delightful, we had four more during this trip! Each morning, we dug a hole and buried the ashes and scattered the fire ring stones. Fires allowed us to stay up until 7:30 and one night our bed time was after 8:00! (2020 comment: I can count on one hand the number of times I have

had a campfire since 2006. If we had a fire, it was an emergency fire for warmth. They can be a lot of work, especially in the canyons, leave an ugly scar, and pollute clothes.) A full moon is making its appearance as we sit mesmerized by the fire. Behind us moonlight slowly crawls down the east-facing cliff. Exquisite details in the crags, ledges, and rifts stand out in amazing relief in sepia. Then over the rim of the eastern cliff, the moon’s corona grows in size and intensity. This evening, just before climbing into my sleeping bag, I walk to the stream bed and stand in a large clearing and let the moon bathe me in its cold, clear light. There is no wind or birds, just absolute silence. The cliffs are ghostly sentinels. In that awesome silence, I hear a tiny sound, like cellophane un-crinkling, only fainter. I walk closer to the sound, thinking it might be a mouse in the dry grass. I stop very near the sound, but it continues. I bend down to within a foot of the sound, obviously no mouse. Then I see what is making the sound. Ice crystals are forming on the perimeter of a small seep, barely large enough to provide a cup of water an hour! What a marvelous performance. (2020 comment: This is still a vivid memory. I feel the intense cold and silence and see the austere moon light. I have never experienced such a tiny, but spectacular, natural event since.)

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Day Two: December 5 (8 miles) We nearly sleep the clock around, like we will every night. Maintaining a constant body temperature twenty-four hours a day in the winter is hard work. The temperature is around 15 degrees when we wake at 7:00. By 9:00, the sun hits the cliff dwelling near our campsite. Hiking the canyons in the winter gives me a new appreciation for the ingenuity of the Anasazi. That home on the cliff was situated to receive the warming rays of the sun early in the morning. The last thing we do before leaving is strip off our winter clothing and wear just enough to keep us comfortable as we hike - pants, poly shirt, fleece, light wool cap and gloves. We meet our one and only party during the entire trip. A group of students from Lawrence University is hiking downstream from Kane. A second group, the leader informs us, is hiking from Collins Springs. That group left before us, so we never say them. He explains that it is a class and that we are the first hikers they saw in six days. I was sure we wouldn’t see anyone this trip. It is a brief five minute encounter, so I’m not bummed too much. But, it’s fun say we didn’t encounter anyone on a backpacking trip. That has happened twice on my trips; an accomplishment for the lower Forty-eight states.

We camp two miles beyond Polly’s Canyon. Coffee is brewed at 4:00. At 4:30, Peter makes his Guatemalan black bean and fresh vegetable meal that is delicious. The campfire is started at 6:00 and bedtime is two hours later. That would become our evening routine.

Day Three: December 6 (8 miles) Eight miles are covered today in six hours and camp is at the confluence of Grand Gulch and Bullet Canyon. Spring water is seeping into pools, but the water is “tea water”. The stream bed is narrowing and meandering. Downed trees and large boulders litter the stream bed forcing us to follow the hiking trail. Until now, the stream bed was our trail; level and broad

like a gravel road. Peter’s pack is not riding well. He has lost weight during his bout with Malaria and the waist belt is too big. Consequently, the belt rode an inch too low, causing painful sciatica.

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Again, we hike under cloudless skies and rising temperatures. At times today, I remove my Peruvian cap and unzipped my fleece as the temperature flirts with forty degrees. Even at 6:00PM, more than two hours after the sun sunk below the cliffs, my thermometer read between 25 and 30 degrees. The evening is delightful. Dinner is Mac ‘n Cheese made with Swiss cheese, subtle spices, and dried tomatoes. The fire is more a companion than a necessity. Peter drifts between the fire and the dark field where he watches the stars. Moonrise was now sometime after 9:00, so the universe was on display in all its splendor. The Milky Way was gossamer lace from horizon to horizon. I nurse a few hot spots on my feet and lance a small blister near the warmth

and light of the fire.

Day Four: December 7 (13 miles) This morning, we day hike 5.5 miles up Bullet Canyon to Jailhouse and Perfect Kiva. Perfect Kiva is just that; a perfectly preserved kiva nestled on an overhang a few hundred feet up and accessible after an easy scramble. Jailhouse gets its name because one window has lattice work that resembles bars. I believe this is the only structure in the Grand Gulch canyons that has such a window. The walk was delightful with an abundance of

wonderfully fragrant sage. I enjoy crushing the leaves and inhaling the aroma. The smell has a hint of turpentine. We return to camp around noon, eat lunch, and hike three miles to the mouth of Coyote Canyon. We carry 1.5 gallons of water from the spring at Bullet because the spring at Coyote is listed as “intermittent” and up in the canyon a ways. Peter explores the canyon and finds the

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spring and an abundance of fresh water. We dump our tea water and upgrade. Dinner is Spanish beef and rice wrapped in a tortilla. This is a new recipe. It is tasty, but too runny to neatly wrap in a tortilla. This is the first time I used jerky in a recipe and it reconstituted quite well. While warming by the fire, I begin to think about home, Nancy, the kids, and work. Up until now, I have so completely immersed myself in this adventure. I lose track of days, forget about obligations at work, and don’t have weird dreams about mishaps back home. I don’t even worry about Nancy; definitely a first. As I said in the introduction, this was a delightful, zen-like experience. Bedtime tonight is after 8:00!

Day Five: December 8 (6 miles) I slept like a rock last night. Before I know it, it is light outside and Peter is getting dressed. We arrive at the Kane Gulch junction around 2:15, covering six miles in 5.5 hours. I recognize many ruins we visited six years ago. Back then, we entered via Kane Gulch and hiked down Grand Gulch a few hours past Bullet Canyon. We then doubled back and ended where we began. The feet are healed and give me no trouble. At the Fortress Canyon and Grand Gulch junction, we debate whether we should hike the final four miles back to the car. We cannot find the water that is supposed to be at the junction. Peter continues up Grand Gulch and I head up Fortress Canyon. There are plenty of pools, but they are frozen solid. Finally, I notice a rock overhang sheltering a pool and heave a large rock at the ice – it cracked. After a few more throws, the hole was big enough to dip a Nalgene bottle. We camp at the junction, having plenty of water. We have our final meal, a Thai dish with coconut milk and rice. The afternoon is very pleasant, with the temperature still hovering around 40 at 4:00. Sitting around our last fire, we finish off the last of the food including two cans of sardine and a large chocolate candy bar.

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Day Six – December 9 (4 miles)

We wake to a cloudy sky! But, by 9:00 the clouds have burned off. The last four miles are an easy hike. We wash our hair in a small stream just before emerging from the canyon at 11:00. (2020 comment: I have a phobia about clean hair. When my hair is clean, my psychological wellbeing improves immensely. And when I emerge from the wilderness, the first thing I must do, even before drinking a beer, is wash my hair!)

Dinner Preference (Peter’s first, then mine) Curry Cashew Chicken 1, 2/3 Guatemalan Bean 2, 1 Mac ‘n Cheese 3, 5 Beef and Rice with Tortilla 4, 2/3 Thai 5, 4


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