The Grand Canyon as a flyfishing destination? Hell yes.

[Rico in Flag]

So, something like 4.5 million people visit the Grand Canyon by various modes, and some 25,000 float the river through the Canyon every year. And the vast majority only visit the south rim for less than four hours, and only the tiniest of tiny percentage bother to fish. Oh what the masses are missing.

I've had pretty close contact with GCNP for a while now. In fact, about 8 years ago I met my wife, who was working at GCNP about the same time I began getting back into flyfishing. My fishing obsession has grown into something manic, and it's now time I embark on the quest to fish as much of the Park as I can, and what will hopefully be infrequent updates to this thread.

The Park Service stocked trout of various species in most tributaries, and most tributaries still have trout, rainbows and browns, however the cutts and brookies are gone now. And after Glen Canyon dam was built and rainbows stocked into the river, trout became a permanent fixture.

Which brings me to the subject of hotspotting. I know on some message boards, hotspotting is frowned upon. But fuck it. So much of the Grand Canyon is so difficultly accessible I seriously doubt a post on TGR will unleash the masses on its streams.

Mrs. ricorides doesn't work at the Park anymore, but it's not gonna stop me from fishing the streams of the Canyon. In fact, I think my resolve and obsession to fish the river and tribs has only gotten stronger. So with that, the Mrs. and I began my quest this past weekend with a hike into Soap Creek, a dry intermittent side canyon with no trout, the goal being the rainbows in the Colorado River.

The hike in begins at a pretty non-descript parking area not too far from Cliff Dwellers, below the Vermilion Cliffs. This will be the last view of the rim and cliffs for a while.



And the going gets rough pretty quickly, on a small pour over of polished limestone,

Pretty quickly into the hike the going gets a little tough with some small pour-offs. I took a peek at the trail register as we left, and someone had wrote the hike had taken 8 hours. The trail description the NPS sent us with the permit, described the route as 2.5 miles and difficult, and I thought, "8 hours! what a moron." Someone else had written they had seen desert bighorn sheep, and I thought "Sweet, I hope so."

And at about this point the trail turned from a lousy trail into nothing more than a route in which one, as best as one can, follows the canyon bottom. This is when the mother of all rock falls obfuscates the canyon bottom, and the unfortunate hiker is left to follow the shittiest cairned route I have ever followed. But WTF, there's fishing at the end right? I wish I had more photos from the rock fall section, what I did bother to take photos of doesn't even come close to describing how slow, frustrating, physically demanding this section was; the down climbs with and without ropes, packs on, packs off and lower packs with ropes, packs back on. And repeat several times. It took and hour and a half to pass through the rock fall both ways, and I'm convinced there is no easier way through.


There weren't as many flowers as I thought there'd be, but the Datura was going off.


Eventually we made it through the rock fall, onto a rock layer that tends to slope rather than form cliffs, where the intermittent streams comes to the surface, and hiking became much easier. My wife stopped dead in her tracks, and I was about fifty yards behind, and thought "that's odd."

A dying bighorn. Dying, present tense. It was still breathing, albeit slowly. And it eyes were open obviously afraid of our presence, and making sad bellowing groans. It was pretty damn sobering to see the circle of life were the arm is pointing to the eleven o'clock position. I've seen bighorns before on river trips and other places, and I always assumed they die somewhere, sometime, but to actually see one is incredibly shocking. There were no obvious reasons why this animal was dying. Definitely not how I was hoping to see desert bighorns.
The canyon bottom got to be much easier walking, but the next hour was quiet and somber after seeing the bighorn. It had a pretty strong effect on my wife.

Eventually my spirits lifted with the sound of the rapids at the river. Fishing is close finally.


There were fish sipping midges in this eddy, and I landed a couple, but I've found that if you don't have the exact replica of what they're sipping you don't stand a chance.






Evening fishing session,





And a couple parting shots.
Looking up canyon, already hot,

It was noticeably hotter on Sunday. We took short breaks in the shade of every overhang.
And in the middle of the rock fall section, someone else had stopped to share their frustration, just as I was feeling. I just had to laugh.


All in all, the hike I would rate as very difficult, if just for the rock fall section. And I would say it's more like 4 miles, don't let the mileage fool you. The moron who wrote in the register was spot on.
With that I hope to be bringing occasional installments from the grandest of all canyons.

[flatNshallow]

Very nice, thanks for sharing. Looking forward to the next installment.

[Mr. Mike]

awesome. looking forward to following this one

[Chowda]

This post is strange. It's like a trip report, except there is more than one photo, no link to your blog or review site, no need to like you on facebook, and no POV footage.

Well done.

[DeathVan]

Weird on that bighorn taking a dirt nap.

Cool on the getting out there and fishing off the beaten path!

[schwerty]

Cool place to wet a line!

[::: :::]

thanks for sharing
cool TR!

[TheRealPoop]

You passed the bighorn on the way out? Did you look in on it on the way back?

I can see how that would take some air out of the walk.

[Rico in Flag]

You passed the bighorn on the way out? Did you look in on it on the way back?

Yeah, I forgot to mention the bighorn had passed on to the other side overnight. I was kinda dreading to see it still alive on our hike out.

I also forgot to mention, as difficult as it is to get down Soap Creek, we weren't the only ones. A group of four guys, had also packed in to fish.
They win the ironman award; they carried in waders and boots.

[adipose]

Love the GC - keep em coming.

[leroy jenkins]

So you just left it dying there? Nice trip report and all but I couldnt stomach not putting it out of its misery. Next time grow some balls, iceman up, and finish it. I get no mauls or guns were handy but there must have been a huge ass rock right?

[Rico in Flag]

Grand Canyon, Part II.

A few weeks ago, a couple friends and I went down the Tanner trail to the river. Interesting thing here: My permit was originally for Cottonwood Camp on Bright Angel creek, seven miles down from the north rim. I was really hoping to fish the small pocket water of BA creek for its essentially native rainbow and brown populations. Well, my wife gets a FB message from one of her old ranger friends saying that up on the Kaibab Plateau they're going to light up prescribed burns some where in the neighborhood of 2000+ acres. And Bright Angel canyon will fill up with smoke 100% guaranteed. We were having none of that. So we boogied into the backcountry permit office bright and early Saturday morning and changed our permit to an area unlikely to be affected by smoke, and so that's how we came to hike down the Tanner.

A few stats on the Tanner down to the river: 4500 vertical feet, from 7300' down to 2800'. 9 miles one way.

Warning: this TR is seriously short on fish pics. Sorry. Suffice to say, plenty of fish were caught, and released, much to the disappointment of Grand Canyon National Park. All rainbows, from 12" to 18", healthy and thick.

We had really superb fall weather, cool and clear. At the start, the sections down from the Kaibab limestone, through the Toroweap, Coconino sandstone, and to the Supai formation is widely regarded as one of the steepest trails in the canyon. Very difficult my guide book says. I would concur.




Tanner delta is just right down there, partially obscured by Cardenas Butte.


This beach would be camp for the first night. NPS made us go another mile upriver to the next use area. Apparently, the Tanner delta are was filled for Saturday night, though we saw nor heard not another soul.
Camp for Saturday evening, looking up to the Desert Watchtower.


My camp here. Funny thing; I carried a bivy sack for the first time. Here's why: since my wife had to bail on the trip, I left the tent at home. So I threw in the sack, thinking it would buy me a few extra degrees of warmth. Little did I know, bivy sacks condense water vapor really bad. I woke up in the middle of the night, it was 38* out, and the hood over me was covered with water droplets. Well that had to be rolled down, and I cocooned myself deep in my bag. Everything had to be dried out in the sun the next morning. Lesson learned.

Camp chores, making water, and dishes. Me seated, my buddy and his jew-fro standing.


Moving camp to Tanner delta proper, under the spectacular Comanche Point. Not to be missed at sunset.
Sunday afternoon was rather painful for me. My janky knees had acted up, new shoes had conspired against me in the form of blisters. Three, about the size of nickels, on both feet. Moving camp sucked. I would have rathered stayed in our first camp and licked my wounds. Much ibuprofen was taken. I wished I had better pharmaceuticals.







The eddy right above Tanner rapid held some fish sipping midges off the surface. Picky little bastards. My buddy tried and lost.
I pulled a bunch of fish out of the pocket water on the sides of the rapid, but midges sippers are my ultimate challenge.




We fished 'till dark, and gorged on dehydrated food. Yummy.
And some flora on the way out,
Fish hook barrel cactus

and a dead agave bloom, which always fascinate me,


They say hiking up Grand Canyon trails generally takes half again as long as it took you to hike down. Again I concur. My knees cooperated, and my feet were covered in moleskin. The last 1000 feet seemed like it would never end.
I've made it a mission to combine these two obsessions of mine, and there's still a bunch of trails I want to do, both to the river, and to the trout holding tributaries.
Next up: Tapeats Creek and Thunder River, next week for Thanksgiving (if the weather holds up).

[Rico in Flag]

Grand Canyon, Part III

Well, the weather did hold up. Ullr is favoring other, more dutiful locales. If it had snowed, the North Rim roads would have been fucked. I really was kinda dreading this trip after getting pretty trashed on the Tanner hike; not just for the length, 11.5 miles one way, but for the difficulty as well, 4700 feet down with three 1500 foot climbs/descents.
I really did want to be skiing somewhere, anywhere, but that was not meant to be. Oh well, I guess backpacking to fish in the Grand Canyon might be the next best thing.

Press play if you want. I know, I know, hippy jamband shit. Whatever. It's one of my favorites and it just so happens, when almost all the hard trail is over and you've already gone 8 miles, you crest over the edge of the Esplanade sandstone to look down into Surprise Valley, 1500 feet below, then an easy cruise for a mile and half before the big drop down to Thunder River and Tapeats Creek.


The beginning of a long day of walking.

We took the trail on the upper left, the Thunder River Trail. Why, you may ask, when it appears to be twice as long than starting from the Bill Hall trailhead? Well, let me tell ya why. Me and Mrs. ricorides both have rather shitty knees. The steep downs just tear our knees up. The Thunder River (aka the Indian Hollow trailhead) is a 1000 feet lower than the Bill Hall trailhead, and see those squigly lines right past the Bill Hall trialhead, well that's poorly represented, but in reality is 49 very steep switchbacks. We chose the easier but longer route. It was worth it, I didn't have to gobble ibuprofen by the handful like the last trip.



Someone had a sense of humor making their cairns,


And there's tons of prehistoric stuff to find,

Use your imagination here,


And After 8 miles traversing the Esplanade terrace, you finally over look Surprise Valley. Those of you who have run the river will recognize the valley, as part of a popular day hike up Tapeats, across Surprise, and down Deer Creek. I could go on and on about the geology of the Valley, ask if you want to know.


Finally, right above Thunder River, the greenery on the side of the cliff from where Thunder Spring emanates. It was dusk at this point, 9 hours hiking so far, and still 1200 feet below. Headlamps came on, and this hike would be finished in the dark.

A very cool thing happened soon after. It was nearly dark. Couldn't see shit except the thin line of the trail. My wife was in front of me, and stops abruptly. A desert bighorn sheep was standing 15 feet in front of her. We were at a stand off; it was wanting to take the trail to Thunder River for a big drink, we wanted to get to camp. Very slowly we stepped forward, and the sheep decided to go off piste and get around us. I wish I had snapped some photos, but it was really cool just to watch this animal check us out.

Thanksgiving dinner. Pretty damn good when we'd been hiking for 10 hours; instant stuffing with cranberries, canned chicken, and instant mashed potatoes. Honestly, it was one of the best T-day dinners I've ever had. And a handful of ibuprofen for dessert.


Dawn,


Trout were stocked into Tapeats in the 20s, on the backs of mules in milk cans by way of the same trail we came in on. No doubt, today, the creek's trout population is sustained by the resident trout in the river.
As you can see, the creek is pretty rowdy. Steep gradient. And thickly lined with willows. Some pretty challenging fishing. Wading boots would have been nice, but with an already heavy pack there was no way I was gonna carry boots in.










So, as you can see, the majority of the fish are on the small side, 6" to 10". But they are beautiful, still with par marks, and abundant. There are definitely larger fish, I broke off one I would guess to be 14". Next time bring 5x leaders. And after fishing a nice hole, I was walking back on the trail about 20 feet above the crick. I could clearly see the black backs of two huge browns in a totally inaccessible run. Next time I'll find a way to hit that run.










Gopher snake. Made my wife squeal like a little girl. So funny.


Thunder Spring. Half of Tapeats volume. Teapeats is a good sized creek, I would estimate about 250 cfs. And cold. 48*.


Time to go home. There's clean clothes and beer in the car.

Moonrise over the Esplanade.


That's it for this year. Maybe Ullr can deliver some white down here now. NOW.

[Kai]

Terrific TR's Really inspirational.

Is winter fishing in the GC a possibility? How is access in January?

[Rico in Flag]

Is winter fishing in the GC a possibility? How is access in January?

Fishing in the Canyon is always possible. The river is always dependable, and the tributaries too. The smaller trib's might have a little ice, but Tapeats and Bright Angel creek I doubt ever freeze, being constant temp spring creeks.
You can count on access from the south rim in January, down the main corridor trails. And you can probably get a permit for almost anywhere. But access from the north rim, not so much. And there's a couple exceptions to that. The only way to Tapeats is from the north rim, unless you're on a river trip.

[Rico in Flag]

Gang,

Another trip into the big ditch to mark another trip around the sun.
For this jaunt, we chose an area of Marble Canyon, which is the upper section of Grand Canyon NP, via a tributary canyon called South Canyon. The Park's trail description says 2900 vertical feet down, and 6.5 miles. Pretty spot on, it turns out to be about 7 hours hiking going in and 8 coming out. What the description doesn't say is that there's really no trail, just walking down the dry canyon bottom over various size boulders from only knee high to house size. Marble Canyon is seldom visited by backpackers, and was easy to get the permit, though the river trips are ever-present.

In the beginning. The river is past the horizon.


People of the sun.




This little guy came out when we had to sit out a short rainstorm. He was pissed and ready to kill. And not so small, almost 4" long.






Camp. This place became a raging sandstorm both afternoons. Nothing to do but sit at rivers edge, where the sand is wet, and watch the swallows snag bugs like jet fighters.


Fishing was excellent as usual.




Gearhead treasure trove.


Next: hopefully Bright Angel Creek in October.

[cat in january]

Excellent trip reports!!

[plugboots]

Good stuff.