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| by Nathan Hunkapiller February 21, 2008 |
The hype factor was extreme for this one and I quote Cody, "This is my last AZ first descent
on tap, my holy Grail of AZ paddling, the Upper Cherry of the Southwest!" What he didn't
know at the time was that this was to be the first and last descent of Upper Salome Creek.
Too bad I didn't know either! The photos of a previous canyoneering trip (THE GROTTO
POOL) were enticing and convinced me to drive my ass 15 hours from San Francisco to the
glorious mining town of Globe, AZ. Joined by Luke, Kyle McCutchen and Evan Stafford from
Colorado, Peter Malkin from LA, and Cody Howard and Mike Fisher from AZ, I set out on what
we hoped would be a three day trip.
A foot of snow dropped in the mountains the night before turning our take-out shuttle into a
mudfest that had everything but the mudwrestling ladies. Peter and I ended up getting our
cars 24 inches deep in a muddy ditch and Cody had to pull us out. Inside and out, my car
looked like a dinosaur just took the crap of it's life on it. The take-out shuttle complete, we
rallied to the put-in road in hopes of finding it navigable. I'll break the suspense by telling you
it wasn't. We packed our boats and set off down the 7 mile road to the J.R. Ranch covered in
a 1-2 feet of snow. The going was slow, and we made it about 4 miles before evening started
approaching. Kyle wore a dime sized hole in the hull of his boat but decided that it would be
ok with some tape repair. That's when we heard a guy driving up the road in his quad. John,
the driver, was about 5 beers deep and driving like a bat out of hell. We offered him a
snickers bar to take us down the remaining 3-4 miles of trail. He obliged so we loaded 5
boats and one passenger on the first lap and 2 boats and 6 passengers on the second.
John drove like a crazy man and we all though we were going to die that day. John knocked
our boats into several trees and Kyle took a very large tree branch to the head at 20 mph.
Sketch!
Despite being a crazed lunatic, John was actually a very kind and generous man. He offered
to put us up in his boss' cabin which was conveniently down by the river. It looked like
something out of a bad horror movie but it was better than sleeping in the frozen mud. By the
way, highlights of the night include: finding out that John was released from prison three
weeks prior for crystal meth abuse, watching John smoke and drink himself to oblivion,
watching John load his shotgun and .22 rifle in the room with us after getting wasted, being
instructed by John to shoot anyone who came in the room unexpected, and listening to John
dry-heave in the middle of the night. We got up at 6AM and got out there about as fast as we
could.
The second started with us hiking and boated what we could down a small tributary of
Salome. In an hour or so, we made it to the confluence, but not before I broke my backband.
The flow was low, but navigable. I'd say 100cfs. We knew we had about 2 miles before the
Salome grotto pool gorge, so we moved fast and beat down the rapids. We had to negotiate
two waterfall portages, one of which could only be accomplished by a 25-foot seal launch or
throw and go. My paddle was set aside by the boat/paddle thrower and never made it to the
"throwing" line-up. Too bad, but I had a break down paddle. The rapids were pure boat
abuse. As Yoda would say, "sievy and pinny, they were." Kyle had to be extracted from one
pin. His boat hole also grew to the size of a quarter and I put a four inch crack in the hull of
mine before too long. I also tore a 3 inch gash in my beloved dry-suit. The neck gasket later
tore, too. Duct tape is my friend. A few good slides and a ton of bouldermank later, we
arrived at the gorge. Scouting from the canyon rim, that thing was the most locked in gorge I
have ever seen. Impressive, deep, and not runnable. One or two really bad death traps with
no escape spoiled what could have been one of the most amazing gorges EVER!
We reached a critical moment of decision during the portage, which brought us to a cliff
above the confluence of Workman's creek (doubling the flow). Getting down looked near
impossible. Kyle and I decided to hike out, not wanted to slow the group down with our
broken boats. That's another story involving 2 days of bushwhacking through cactus hell.
Cody and crew continued down. Since I wasn't there, I'll just offer a recap of what I heard:
People thought they were going to fall to their deaths while getting back to the river, 2 more
boats were broken (one of them in 3 places during consecutive breaks), 1 more paddle was
lost, 2 drybags were torn, Cody "accidentally" sat on a cactus, two pairs of pants were torn,
and the rapids sucked or required portaging.
Back at the take-out, my car's battery died during the three day trip and the mud in my tires
from getting stuck days earlier threw my wheel alignment out of whack.
So to tally up the damages...
4 broken boats
1 bad piton dent
2 lost paddles
2 ripped pants
1 drysuit gash
1 broken backband
1 torn neck gasket
2 torn drybags
AND 7 pairs of balls shrunken by two frozen nights and unfulfilled dreams
After it all, I drove 12 hours all through the night and went right to work the next day. And
who says there's no glory in 1st descents? I'll go back to AZ in a few weeks for some more
boating.
on tap, my holy Grail of AZ paddling, the Upper Cherry of the Southwest!" What he didn't
know at the time was that this was to be the first and last descent of Upper Salome Creek.
Too bad I didn't know either! The photos of a previous canyoneering trip (THE GROTTO
POOL) were enticing and convinced me to drive my ass 15 hours from San Francisco to the
glorious mining town of Globe, AZ. Joined by Luke, Kyle McCutchen and Evan Stafford from
Colorado, Peter Malkin from LA, and Cody Howard and Mike Fisher from AZ, I set out on what
we hoped would be a three day trip.
A foot of snow dropped in the mountains the night before turning our take-out shuttle into a
mudfest that had everything but the mudwrestling ladies. Peter and I ended up getting our
cars 24 inches deep in a muddy ditch and Cody had to pull us out. Inside and out, my car
looked like a dinosaur just took the crap of it's life on it. The take-out shuttle complete, we
rallied to the put-in road in hopes of finding it navigable. I'll break the suspense by telling you
it wasn't. We packed our boats and set off down the 7 mile road to the J.R. Ranch covered in
a 1-2 feet of snow. The going was slow, and we made it about 4 miles before evening started
approaching. Kyle wore a dime sized hole in the hull of his boat but decided that it would be
ok with some tape repair. That's when we heard a guy driving up the road in his quad. John,
the driver, was about 5 beers deep and driving like a bat out of hell. We offered him a
snickers bar to take us down the remaining 3-4 miles of trail. He obliged so we loaded 5
boats and one passenger on the first lap and 2 boats and 6 passengers on the second.
John drove like a crazy man and we all though we were going to die that day. John knocked
our boats into several trees and Kyle took a very large tree branch to the head at 20 mph.
Sketch!
Despite being a crazed lunatic, John was actually a very kind and generous man. He offered
to put us up in his boss' cabin which was conveniently down by the river. It looked like
something out of a bad horror movie but it was better than sleeping in the frozen mud. By the
way, highlights of the night include: finding out that John was released from prison three
weeks prior for crystal meth abuse, watching John smoke and drink himself to oblivion,
watching John load his shotgun and .22 rifle in the room with us after getting wasted, being
instructed by John to shoot anyone who came in the room unexpected, and listening to John
dry-heave in the middle of the night. We got up at 6AM and got out there about as fast as we
could.
The second started with us hiking and boated what we could down a small tributary of
Salome. In an hour or so, we made it to the confluence, but not before I broke my backband.
The flow was low, but navigable. I'd say 100cfs. We knew we had about 2 miles before the
Salome grotto pool gorge, so we moved fast and beat down the rapids. We had to negotiate
two waterfall portages, one of which could only be accomplished by a 25-foot seal launch or
throw and go. My paddle was set aside by the boat/paddle thrower and never made it to the
"throwing" line-up. Too bad, but I had a break down paddle. The rapids were pure boat
abuse. As Yoda would say, "sievy and pinny, they were." Kyle had to be extracted from one
pin. His boat hole also grew to the size of a quarter and I put a four inch crack in the hull of
mine before too long. I also tore a 3 inch gash in my beloved dry-suit. The neck gasket later
tore, too. Duct tape is my friend. A few good slides and a ton of bouldermank later, we
arrived at the gorge. Scouting from the canyon rim, that thing was the most locked in gorge I
have ever seen. Impressive, deep, and not runnable. One or two really bad death traps with
no escape spoiled what could have been one of the most amazing gorges EVER!
We reached a critical moment of decision during the portage, which brought us to a cliff
above the confluence of Workman's creek (doubling the flow). Getting down looked near
impossible. Kyle and I decided to hike out, not wanted to slow the group down with our
broken boats. That's another story involving 2 days of bushwhacking through cactus hell.
Cody and crew continued down. Since I wasn't there, I'll just offer a recap of what I heard:
People thought they were going to fall to their deaths while getting back to the river, 2 more
boats were broken (one of them in 3 places during consecutive breaks), 1 more paddle was
lost, 2 drybags were torn, Cody "accidentally" sat on a cactus, two pairs of pants were torn,
and the rapids sucked or required portaging.
Back at the take-out, my car's battery died during the three day trip and the mud in my tires
from getting stuck days earlier threw my wheel alignment out of whack.
So to tally up the damages...
4 broken boats
1 bad piton dent
2 lost paddles
2 ripped pants
1 drysuit gash
1 broken backband
1 torn neck gasket
2 torn drybags
AND 7 pairs of balls shrunken by two frozen nights and unfulfilled dreams
After it all, I drove 12 hours all through the night and went right to work the next day. And
who says there's no glory in 1st descents? I'll go back to AZ in a few weeks for some more
boating.
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| Copyright © 2008 Huckin Huge.com All Rights Reserved. Dedicated to Ryan Palmer |
| Kyle, observing the confluence gorge |
| Upper Salome Creek whitewater |
| Crackin' open & lightin' up before the drive |
| See quote above..."the only good one" |
