15 miles hiking11 miles packrafting
20 rappels
6 canyons
5 hot springs
2 days
Mission probable, I tentatively thought. I recently picked up the great new canyon guidebook to southern Nevada. I was particularly keen to give some of the canyons in the Black Canyon of the Colorado a look as those trips could combine two of my other favorite things: hot springs and packrafting. The more I looked into the descriptions the more I realized that most of the time commitment in the canyons was in the approach and exit and the canyons themselves were actually quite short. By linking the canyons up using the river, instead of back and forth trips from the rim, it seemed possible to combine all the best parts of the Black Canyon (technical canyons and hot springs) in one two-day trip. Visiting the same sites based from the rim could take 3-4 days and would have much less appeal (half the trips would be wash walking and I love a good challenge that may not have been done before).
I had honed my lightweight packrafting/backpacking/canyoning setup in the rougher proving ground of the Grand Canyon. I knew I could transition from raft to foot or foot to raft in about 5 minutes each, and I knew all about the second winds you can get from switching between upper and lower body abuse every few hours. The terrain in the Black Canyon is generally open and generally forgiving to off trail travel such that I could have high confidence in a route from aerial imagery and topos. Additionally since we were mostly looping from the river it would be pretty easy to bail on a stretch of the trip if things were going slower than we anticipated. The only two unknowns were the technical canyons (which I had not been in before and I only could assume the types of anchors we would encounter or need to build) and finding a suitable partner up to the challenge. I had been raving to Keith about wanting to take him on his first packraft and canyon trip at some point. Despite the total lack of experience with either, he seemed like the obvious choice for the trip with his high fitness level, willingness for long days, and ability to pack ultralight. Although January meant short days and cool nights, the temperature during the day would be ideal for quick travel and would allow the hot springs to be best appreciated. We choose a three-day weekend so that I would still have one day to not get too far behind with my teaching responsibilities. Sara volunteered to act as shuttle and we were all go.
We drove out to Vegas late on Friday, arriving to our chosen camp spot above Motorcycle Canyon at about midnight. Sleep was effective but consciousness was a chore. We got a little later start than we had hoped, setting off round about 8am. This trip I was quickly and continually reminded this wasn't the Grand Canyon- despite being classified under the American definition of "wilderness," tourist helicopters buzzed overhead every few minutes, powerlines overhead, near constant trash in most canyons (including some in places only accessible to canyoneers), and long cross country hikes only to turn a corner and be rudely starred down by an enormous bridge or dam on the horizon. I couldn't believe some of the places that bridge was visible from and every time it could not have been a more foreign object. I tried my best to appreciate the landscape for what it has now become.
After about a mile walk on a rough dirt road, we easily found the drop in for Motorcycle Canyon, so named for the abandoned motorcycle beneath the first drop. The first two drops were the longest in the canyon, chossy ditch-style cracks which dropped us through a cliff band and led to considerable wash walking after.
After about a mile walk on a rough dirt road, we easily found the drop in for Motorcycle Canyon, so named for the abandoned motorcycle beneath the first drop. The first two drops were the longest in the canyon, chossy ditch-style cracks which dropped us through a cliff band and led to considerable wash walking after.
Eventually the canyon walls did close in around us. At this point in lower Motorcycle the catchment was large enough to produce nice water-sculpted narrows with some short rappels and fun downclimbs. We found anchors to be in good shape which allowed us to make great time. I meat anchored Keith down one of the spicier downclimbs, then he gave a spot. Almost as soon as the fun began, the canyon relinquished itself into the powerline and canyon crossroad with Gold Strike Canyon. About 2 hours to clear Motorcycle.
We made great time down Gold Strike, blurring our way past many many (it was a holiday weekend after all) sneakered dayhikers.
I had wanted to have a mandatory soak in every hot pool we encountered
but quickly adjusted the plan to exclude ones with people in it so on we
went. We reached to Colorado in good time with the rude view of the Hoover Dam just upstream. Our first packrafting changeover was a little slow (more like 10 minutes), but soon we left the curious eyes behind us and paddled a short distance to the hot waterfall on river left. We deflated our rafts and easily found the route bypassing the waterfall.
Lower Gold Strike Canyon
Packraft crossover
Climbing out near the hot waterfall on approach to Secret
A short and rather straightforward cross country jaunt took us to the head of the Secret Canyon narrows. A couple short downclimbs led to the main drop and a nice section of sculpted narrows. Another downclimb or two and one more rappel and we could see we were one turn away from the river. Secret Canyon was short but pretty- it only took us 1hr round trip from the river. We couldn't resist the call of lunch in the well-named Secret Hot Spring. Only a couple stone throws away from the hordes on the other side of the river at Gold Strike, and just out of sight of them, it was a perfect pool in a naturally carved bedrock pothole (probably the only such hot spring I have ever seen). This pool would have been well-below water level on my last visit to the Black Canyon so was a delight to see and sample.
Nice rappel in Secret Canyon
Secret Hot Spring
We were back on the water at a little after noon, paddling about a mile to Boy Scout Canyon on the true right where I suppose not too surprisingly there were about 20 boy scouts and their leaders. By this point we were doing pretty well on time before dusk, but I still hoped we could gain some ground. The bottom half mile of Boy Scout has a respectable stream of hot water flowing in it, including several canyon spanning sandbagged pools and several waterfalls to climb. The allure of dry feet was great, so we sacrificed a little time to take boots off through the wetter 300 feet of the canyon. This portion of the canyon was longer and more scenic than I remembered from my previous kayak trip a couple years before. The last awkward chockstone waterfall we had to pass packs to clear. The canyon then opened and our long scree slope escape was in sight. This started straightforward at first but as we climbed we realized we had a cliff band to cut through somehow. At a crossroads we fortunately found a couple cairns leading us up a steep chute, where a couple exposed climbing moves led to our escape on to the plateau above. Unsurprisingly, turning 180 degrees afforded us a view of the bridge yet again.
(note the bridge in the distance)
Boy Scout Canyon
The cruxy escape from Boy Scout Canyon
The topography in sight didn't seem to quite match the map so we spent a few minutes scratching our heads before properly orienting ourselves. The route I marked appeared to be up a couple cliff bands to a steep saddle that would drop us into the Devil's Drain drainage. We nosed our way up, finding the way through without too much difficulty.
The topography in sight didn't seem to quite match the map so we spent a few minutes scratching our heads before properly orienting ourselves. The route I marked appeared to be up a couple cliff bands to a steep saddle that would drop us into the Devil's Drain drainage. We nosed our way up, finding the way through without too much difficulty.
Bridge again!
The day was quickly passing as we descended to the double archway
marking the start of the namesake Devil's Drain. Unsurprisingly the
webbing on the rockpile anchor above the drop was horribly faded due to
abundant sun exposure. I was a little hesitant to replace it as it would
chew up a good portion of our webbing budget for the trip, but in the
end deemed it the intelligent thing to do. This was a rather unique
rappel, a 70ft freehanging drop through a small drain hole
(frontispiece). Unfortunately the rest of the canyon mostly offered up
awkward rappels and chossy rock. More of a chossy ditch than a canyon
overall, but the volcanic conglomerate was interesting at least. I don't
think Keith was very impressed either. The largest drop had a nice
enough fluted chute to rappel down. I was counting off rappels as
shadows began to consume sunlight and the race was on.
We cleared the last rappel, removed
harnesses, and raced on down canyon. We conquered the hot spring-fueled
tamarisk jungle in the last light of day, fortunately making the right
decisions when it came to bypassing the tangles. It wasn't as bad as I
was led to believe but I could certainly see where some wrong decisions
would lead to great suffering. We stumbled through a camp of a couple
kayakers at the river, certainly surprised to see us. After a few
minutes of mandatory explanation of what-the-hell-were-we-doing, we
inflated rafts at the river for a dark and inky one mile paddle to the
Arizona Hot Spring beach. Neither of us had been on the river when it
was this low so didn't quite know what to expect from Ringbolt Rapids.
Fortunately there was not much more to it than a few boils and eddies to
avoid. Apparently the river was moving swiftly through the section
because we reached the beach where Sara was waiting in less than 15
minutes.
Race against the fading light in lower Devil's Drain
Sara
already had a nice camp spot picked out on a small beachlet away from
the rest of the groups. After a well-earned dinner (and a beer kindly
delivered by Sara), Sara and I went for a relaxing soak in Arizona Hot
Springs. We all slept well in the calm and comfortable night. I was
delighted to notice that I was not too tired and that my energy
outlasted the day.
At the start of day two Keith and I packed up our gear and said goodbye to Sara. We both enjoyed a peaceful morning paddle on the river (boat-free, just us and the ducks). We easily recognized the Bighorn Canyon drainage and prepared to switch back to hiking mode. Bighorn started moderately interesting with one of the few cold flowing creeks in Black Canyon and some pleasant riparian vegetation. The canyon boasted some of the best true narrows we had seen thus far on the trip, with some interesting red volcanic breccia. The few upclimbs we encountered were all lots of fun and easily surmounted. All too soon the canyon opened up and it was time to look for our cross country route to Weeping Spring. We hiked up a straightforward tributary to the saddle with Weeping Spring. Without fail the first sight visible on our panoramic view was that damn bridge! Otherwise a pleasant and desolate desert scene.
Sinuous depths of Bighorn Canyon
We soon arrived at Weeping Spring Canyon. The guidebook mentioned "creative anchor challenges" and creative anchors were exactly what we encountered! Though far from pristine, everything we encountered met my satisfaction and on we went. Whereas the previous day's canyons felt too short to be a real canyon, this one had the right ingredients: many long, almost rapid-fire rappels with tantalizing horizon lines. Certainly the best canyon. The one of the last major drops had a 30+ ft long anchor that needed to be fished out of a hanging pool! At least it wasn't sunbleached! Once down, we had lunch on a perch at the edge of the gorge with the river far below us. To save time we opted to bypass the last rappel and found a slightly exposed route back down to the river without much difficulty.
In the middle of Weeping Spring CanyonThe hanging pools of Weeping Spring
Since Sara wanted to get back early we opted to forgo the Ringpin Canyon
detour (though energy and time wise we would have been more than ready
for it) for the direct 7 mile paddle on to Willow Beach. Here where the
current failed the Supai proved to be the inferior machine. After a
noble 3 miles of effort, I switched with Keith who was clearly the more
adept paddler. I was somewhat comforted that it was still a great effort
for him as well. At one point I saw an odd black and white spot on a
rocky perch above the river, noting to Keith that it looked like a bald
eagle. Sure enough when we got closer it was in fact exactly that! A
fantastic sight to break up the slog to Willow Beach. Slowly, eventually, we made our way to Willow Beach where Sara was waiting. All in all I was pretty satisfied with what we managed to fit in. It was great to get in a multi-sport through-trip and Keith seemed satisfied with the canyoning/packrafting introduction.
Thanks to Keith and Sara.






















