Nankoweap for Trail Runners
First off, don't read any further if you are afraid of heights, smelly old men, or winter camping. I don't want to be held responsible for damaging your sensitivities. Also, be aware this is my account of events, since no one else is volunteering to edit this story. I hesitate to throw all my impressions out on display since it is often viewed as an arrogant sounding blast of buffoonish whimsy. Despite this fear, sometimes an experience really digs into you and fills your pitiful life with something worth talking about and so I blather on and try not to think of how it looks to others probably more worthy to talk about the subject.
    I am to most of my trail running buddies called, the "Gorilla". I have no idea how I got this nickname. Don't ask me again or I'll have to hurt you. For 10 years, I ran the corridor trail of the Grand Canyon and after my 10th Double Crossing, with a best time of around 10.5 hours, made it a priority to see other parts of the Big Ditch. I started of with a couple of trips over to Clear Creek east of Phantom Ranch that was fun. Then I moved over to the Hermit Trail west of the Bright Angel. This was a terrific trail, much more rugged and tough than the maintained corridor trails but without the olfactory assault from mule urine. Then I went down Grandview and back west to South Kaibab.  A long and brushy but very beautiful trail run with the most exquisite cuts on my shins from the black brush.  Paul Hart and I had a terrific trip down the Boucher Trail and back to the Hermit Trail via the Tonto Trail a couple of years ago. Jaw dropping scenes were every where with some exposure and dangerous plants to be wary of  (cactus, Spanish Bayonet, Cats Claw). I enjoyed these so much; I have been reading about all the possibilities and discovered many more options. The Nankoweap is on the north rim and is listed as probably the most strenuous of them all.  One backpacking report stated, “As early as 1882, Charles Walcott, who helped construct this trail, stated,  ‘it was a perfectly frightful trail’." Bob Anderson, in a 1999 backpacking report wrote about one nasty little incident, “As I continued on, I found that I was surprisingly tired. Also, I was irritated at a route finding delay, so I was probably hurrying a little. A short distance from Marion Point, I planted my left foot to climb a very short but steep incline. The next thing I recall, I was on my back with my legs extending into the Canyon and my left hand firmly grasping an exposed plant root above my head. After a moment, I stood up and found that I had survived this fall without injury. But, I couldn't help but wonder what would have happened if this fall had taken place just a little earlier where the trail is more exposed.”  Naturally, I was very curious about what I would see down that section.   The trail receives few visitors, it has a scary reputation, I have a new water filter, yep, too good to pass this up, so start your engines gentlemen.
      I put feelers out to some like minded trail lovers and this year we finally got together for a trip. Sadly, we had to skip the Bonneville Shoreline Trail marathon, but this opportunity couldn't be missed.  The first thing to do when reading reports about these "backpacking" trips is to figure out what a trail runner with a good supply of water (with or without a filter) can do. If the trip says it takes 4 days, then it is usually about right for a one-day assault by conditioned trail runners. Pay particular attention to the route description and the available water supply. The location of the trailhead is sometimes hard to figure out. Attempting any Grand Canyon trail in the heat of summer is difficult for snow bunnies from the North Country, so we usually go in the spring and fall. Be careful to take enough food. Be smart and train well for steep descents and ascents. Running roads all year will usually leave you wanting on these trails.
     Back up in Salt Lake, I made sure that I got in some tough up and down trails on Mount Van Cott and the Eagle Trail. I probably should have done some longer ones but it turned out okay considering the available trails. I had over 6,000 feet of up and down the last 5 days before a 2-day rest. Had I to do it over again, I would have worn a pack with a big bag of water for weight to get used to the demands on the thigh muscles and back.  I also should have exercised my jaw (for those jaw-dropping moments of incredible scenery).
     Prince Many Dots and Bloody Fingers (John Moellmer and Paul Hart) were enthusiastic and signed up. John even offered to take his vehicle. What a guy! Paul talked his son, Isaac into going and the Pancake Man, Mr. Destructo, alias Stan Crane, also signed up. John picked me and Stan up and my house Friday morning, April 4, at 8 am and we loaded up and drove off south under cloudy skies. Reportedly, John's spouse, Joan, was left giggling in hysterics when John asked if he forgot anything. Yeah, we really stuffed that Jeep Cherokee full. A good thing that John went all out, too. The weather turned colder than we thought because of wind and snow flurries so we scramble to stay warm. John brought a tent and a SPACE HEATER. Yahoo!
   The drive down from Salt Lake took about 7 1/2 hours. We stopped for lunch at the Cache Valley cheese outlet in Beaver, Utah and "horked" down crackers and Pepper jack or Curd cheese squeaking with each bite. We stopped again at Jacobs Lake for a potty break, stretched our legs, then went east on Highway 89A about 20 miles. Turning right on a dirt road, we drove south for about an hour to the Saddle Mountain trailhead to Forest Service trail 57. Oddly, there is another Saddle Mountain trailhead and trail 57 up higher and west of the Nankoweap trail but it is not accessible until early summer. This one is open all year round. The dirt road is passable by a two-wheel vehicle with just a few rocks and some washboard to carefully negotiate. We stopped close to the trailhead and camped under some tall Pinyon Pine (Pinus edulis) trees. There are no facilities here, no Burger Kings, no showers, but there is lots of room.
     Paul and Isaac showed up a few minutes after we did at the trailhead.  While Pancake Stan set up a tablet and got John’s Coleman stove cooking up a dandy spaghetti dinner with Freedom bread, we set up the big Kirkhams Tent & Awning tent.  John hooked up a 150-watt light.  It was run by a 12-cell battery pack.  It came in handy to charge up camera batteries.  Paul had scouted out the trail a little and suggested from his trip that an opportunity to see Marble Canyon was just close by.   We all loaded into Paul’s Saturn and drove a few miles along the road, which curved, back to the road we drove in on in a big loop.  Finding a trailhead, we stopped and started off east.  Some of us (me) were skeptical about where this would lead but good sense prevailed and we finally came to the edge of the Marble Canyon section of the Colorado River upstream from Granite Gorge.  We got a fantastic look down into Buck Farm Canyon.  Nice trail with soft dirt out through the junipers and a stunning view of the canyon was a delightful prelude to the the next day.  We drove back to base camp, turned on the space heater to warm up, flossed, brushed, read a little, and crawled into our beds with thoughts about a “dangerous” mud spot and a severe exposed section of trail with a 6 inch wide tread to negotiate while hanging on to the rocks close by. Our sleep was light because the wind screamed across the tent in gusts all night long.
     We woke at 6 am, dressed in our winter running clothes (several layers) and headed for the Saddle Mountain Pass 4 miles away (I know the description says 3 miles but I think it is 4). Stan took off first, just hiking and not willing to risk his hip by running. Paul and Isaac followed while John and I took off latest at 6:44 am. The Prince began his "Prancing" and soon was off to catch up and pass the others. I took my time with my usual tight left calf and waited for it to warm up before I could go faster. I was probably 15 minutes behind everyone after the 800-foot ascent up to the pass and the Nankoweap trail. A light snowstorm had fallen and left an inch of snow and no tracks. I was a little bewildered as I had to look around a bit at the junction of the two trail 57's before I spotted the Forest Service sign and information board at the start of Nankoweap.  While I stood in the quiet forest with light corn snow bouncing off my wind breaker, I felt pleased to be in the Transition Zone (not a term from Outer Limits).  The Transition Zone refers to the type of flora, which at this point is a forest of incredible ponderosa pine. The undergrowth was pretty sparse since a fire had burned through this area not too long ago leaving many of the pines with blackened trunks. The forest was in the midst of late winter conditions but the snow wasn’t sticking to the trail long. We would be dropping from this zone into the Upper Sonoran Zone, which features pinyon pine, junipers, manzanita, and lots of scrub oak of various species. The oak and manzanita turned out to be blood thirsty, tearing at my flesh. At the end of this trail is the Lower Sonaran Zone and a wide variety of cactus, mesquite, sagebrush, salt bush, black brush, creosote bush, and willow plus narrow leaf cottonwoods in the creek bottom. Flowers were blooming at the bottom. Leaves were green and showy on the cottonwood trees in the streambeds.  Snow was billowing about in the wintry conditions on top. The feathery clouds and mist closed in over the views and got abruptly replaced with sparkling clear skies and sunshine. There was a day of great contrasts ahead.
     While I bonded with plants, Mr. Many Dots Rock Chuck (John) was absorbing the vision of rocks. Old rocks and layers.  He sent a Geology minded email:
"Chuar Group of Grand Canyon Supergroup of northern AZ in the Southern Rocky Mountain region correlates with Uinta Mountain Group. CHUARIA-bearing acritarchs and vase-shaped chitinozoan-like microfossils have been reported from the Kwagunt Formation and from a sandstone in the Uinta Mountain Group beneath the Red Pine Shale. Strata bearing these fossils predate the Windermere Supergroup. Paleontologic correlation between these two groups is supported by the coincidence of their paleomagmetic poles. They have normal polarity in the lower part and they have a westward polar shift of some reversely polarized rocks in the upper part. Uinta Mountain thought to have been deposited at the north margin of the shallow Chuar sea or saline Chuar lake. Late Proterozoic age."
As far as I can figure it, the bugs in the purple layer of rocks we saw down there are kissing cousins of the layer on the Highline trail up in the Uintahs.  Get back to me on that, will you?  From my Geologic Cross Section chart of the Grand Canyon, I see that we started in the Supai layers and dropped through the Redwall, Muav, Bright Angel, Tapeats and dropped into the magnificent display of the Grand Canyon Supergroup layers of rocks.  Somehow this complex group got laid down on top of younger rocks making it quite a mystery for geologists.  In 1882, 1883, the US Geologic Survey parties led by John Wesley Powell explored the Supergroup to learn more about it.  They supposedly are the ones who built the Nankoweap trail, although no one really knows if anything is left from their trail on on the one we used.  While I struggle to understand the science behind all this, I can certainly appreciate the amazing colors of the formations I ran through.  I found it visually very cool to run through colors of  red, green, purple, white, gray, brown, yellow, and varying shades of mixtures.
     After a drop from the Nankoweap trailhead, we started an hour long traverse to Marion Point.  This was up and down, around boulders, through the brush, difficult thigh and calf muscle work.  While my legs started burning, I remembered three of us had our Ham Radio License.  Checking my radio, I fond the volume switch too low.  I turned it up and made a call.  On this trip, H is for Hart, A is for Ape, and M is for Moellmer = HAM. "WB7SUB? This is KD7GBS."said the ape.  "This is WB7SUB.  How are you doing?"replied Moellmer.   "I'm about a half mile back.  I just scrambled up some rocks and someone is donating blood.  Who is hurt?" the Ape asks.   "Hartski ripped some flesh from his fingers.  I left him some bandages in the trail with Paul scratched on a rock.  I hope Stan doesn't pick them up." Moellmer states.  "I see them now directly across from me now all together so that shouldn't be a problem." said the Ape.  "K7WTU, This is KD7GBS, Is that you with Stan?" the ape asks.  "Yes, we are heading out to Tilted Mesa. Where are you?" Paul said. "I'm slogging away about a half mile back.  I heard you hurt your hand.  How bad is it?" Irv replied. "Hand is cut up but will be okay.  My digital  camera stopped working when I fell, though.  Drat the luck!" observed Paul.  I deemed it appropriate to create a nickname for Paul. Bloody Fingers (when you find a good nickname for a guy, you just have to use it) seemed a good choice at the the time, at least for this trip.   Bleeding man was already taken on a previous journey written up about Nankoweap.
      In the stories recorded online about this last section, it mentioned a wet "dangerous" spot and a "bad spot' due to exposure.  The wet spot got my attention first.  Stepping on the side to avoid the worst of it was no problem.  The exposed bad spot was definitely an eyebrow raiser.  About 20 feet of side stepping on a six inch trail while holding onto less than stable rocks with a sheer drop on the right  was scary for me.  I breezed right by it without trouble so put it out of my present thoughts.  The "bad spot" hovered silently there in my subconscious mind, though, for the the return trip.  I knew I would have to come back and do it in reverse.
     The next traverse was again another hour of scrambling along narrow trails to Tilted Mesa.  The views along here above the Redwall were extraordinary.  There were some difficult routes to find through the brush and rocks and I navigated some exposed spots gingerly with the importance of not sliding  paramount in my mind.
     I caught up with Isaac and  Fingers just after the tricky down climb off blocks of Tapeats sandstone and through two pillars that someone had written "MORDOR" in the sand (had to be my fellow Tolkien aficionado, Moellmer).  I spent a few minutes out of the wind catching up on our journey experiences.  I took off the long pants and windbreaker.  They were heading back from this point with the idea of taking a break half way up (later I heard they caught a delicious half hour nap in the sunshine) and checking out the views in more detail.  With some yellow hoodoos visible below, I thought I'd go for another  half hour or so and see how close I got to Nankoweap Creek.  I soon bumped into Pancake Man hiking back up and exchanged greetings.  He had turned around with enough time left to get back in the daylight.  At 11:44 am, 5 hours into my hike/run, I decided to go on as I was close enough to make the creek.  I arrived exactly at noon and spent 20 minutes soaking up the sunshine and warmth after stripping off the long sleeve micro fiber top.  While pumping water from the creek under rustling spring green leaves on the cottonwood trees and eating a small lunch of GU, crystallized ginger, a cheese stick, and miscellaneous gummy dinosaurs (my son and I are nuts about dinosaurs), I looked for the trout fingerlings in the creek but saw none in this spot.
   Starting back up was a real relief for sore quad muscles but very steep and tough.  The trail first weaves through a mine field of sage brush and  prickly pear cactus.  The barrel cactus was in bloom with rich red flowers.  Sego Lilies were frequent but most of them were purple petaled instead of white.  They were lovely.  There were some bright yellow daises and white mustards as well.  The Storksbill Geraniums were gone to seed already.  The flowers reminded me that I had a long way to go to get back into the Ponderosa Forest and winter conditions.  At this point I should remind everyone that the books say, "Do not attempt to walk from the rim to the river and back in one day."  Since I was doing some running, no matter how slow, I felt good about not disobeying this rule.  Prince Many Dots  had bounced way ahead of all of us down to the Colorado River and I hadn't heard any transmissions from him recently.  When he went down Nankoweap Creek, I knew he would be boulder hopping for a few miles.  I had no doubt he would pass me going back up even if I took off an hour ahead of him.  Just after starting up the purple colored trail, very steep, it started to rain.  I put on my yellow plastic emergency poncho.  A sudden micro burst of wind shot out of the blue behind and below me while pelting me with hail and rain.  It dashed uphill under my poncho and ripped it right off me and blew it up the hill twenty yards away.  Shock and awe!   I picked up the tattered remains and held it over my head and torso as best I could.  Fortunately, the rain stopped and I was back in the sunshine.  (Note to self:  keep distracting yourself with other thoughts so you don't have to think about the "bad spot".)
       I started this difficult climb up through the Supergroup layer.  The colors again were very striking and I got an even closer look going at this snail pace.  I heard Fingers and Rock Chuck exchanging their itinerary for the rest of the day.   John started uphill about 50 minutes after me and yet gobbled up the trail so fast he passed me just as we got out of the land of "Mordor".  Ha, that is one for the elves with the dwarf right behind bringing up the rear now.  It felt great to be up on Tilted Mesa because the hard climb was done.  Of course, the legs were starting to feel weary, so more weariness was yet to come.  Again, it took about an hour to get to Marion Point and another hour to get to the Nankoweap trailhead.  I heard from John on the radio and from Paul as they kept in touch on the way out.  We were missing Stan at one point since he was in front of  John and behind Paul & Isaac.  I finally got to the "bad spot" after carefully denying I was anxious about it.  I carefully sidestepped along and avoided looking down.  It hadn't got any better but again I breezed past it with no more than a few sweat bullets dripping off my forehead.  That was a relief, I can tell you.  Didn't bother me a bit.
       Reaching the pass of Saddle Mountain, I had entered winter again and put on the micro fiber top plus windbreaker and mittens.  I left the long pants off though since the warm ascent had overheated me and my legs weren't feeling the chill.  Though I was running quite a bit on the way down to camp, it still took 80 minutes.  There is one little hill on the way back.  It sure seemed steeper climbing out than it did while descending it in the morning.  Funny how that works.  I passed the trailhead and there some backpackers camped nearby.  John found out they were going on a 12 day excursion from Nankoweap to Phantom Ranch.  If you pull up the map, you will see there is no trail after Nankoweap.  Incredible. Those guys are really in for a treat (hope they brought tweezers for the cactus spines).
     Well, I took 11 hours and 52 minutes round trip. I think John did the whole route in under 11 hours.  I got into warm clothes and ate some chips and salsa for dinner.  The wind was still blowing but not quite as fierce so sleeping was somewhat better.  We were all tired and so that helped us sleep.  The snoring was worse, though, and they said I contributed to the groups noise that night tossing and turning as my air mattress kept flattening from a leak.  We broke camp the next day after a scrumptious stack of Stan's famous sourdough pancakes, a vegetable omelet, and orange juice.   Yum!  We arrived back home after driving through several brief snowstorms.   What an adventure.