Moment of Truth

Boy, has the Hayduke Trail Adventure I've been planning for well over a year suddenly changed. A last minute bailout by Mitch, complete with his announcement that the adventure had been cancelled, has left me scrambling to pick up the pieces: no maps, no permits, no partner. As of this writing, I think I’ve covered all the bases; permits are secure, caches are placed around the desert where they need to be, resupply meetings are arranged. I’m happy to report that any rumors of the demise of the inaugural Hayduke Trail expedition have been greatly exaggerated! (It’s now scheduled to go from April 1 to June 24)

Now I have the unique opportunity to experience a bunch of the Hayduke Trail on a one-man expedition, though I’ll be joined by my dog Aldo on some the solo sections. On other sections different folks will jump along for the ride; friends will join me in Canyonlands and the Grand Canyon; one of my two brothers will join me for some slot canyons, and visits from a journalist or two are also on the horizon.

The situation of the expedition changed rather quickly, yet things sometimes have a way of working out. Sponsors were still in, University of Utah Press, the publisher of our guidebook was still willing to help with expenses, and a host of people were interested in coming along and/or helping out. I’ll be depending on many people now to keep this trip moving forward. I somehow even managed to get my first choice of itineraries in the Grand Canyon, where permits for some of the better-visited areas along the Hayduke Trail can be impossible to obtain this late in the game. It took a “quick” trip to the South Rim to secure, but hey, you gotta do what you gotta do to make things happen. At least a friend visiting from out of town got an unexpected jaunt to view into the abyss that’s been slowly etched through the layers of the Colorado Plateau by it’s namesake river (my friend Dan, an old buddy from Rutgers, left with a glazed look in his eyes while saying something about coming along for the whole three month journey).

My trip to gather permits basically followed much of the route, allowing a glimpse into the condition of some of the roads and areas where I’d planned caches. I often found way too much snow on the ground to access the areas where I’d then have to dig through several feet of snow just to see just if there was a place to stash my goods, as well as giving an idea of the snow level, since I’ll be traveling at over 7000’ feet just weeks from the start of the trip. As there was solid snowpack around 6400’, it looks like the new snowshoes (obtained from MSR, just in case) were well planned; I’ll be needing them on at least two sections. I discovered that placing caches on the Kaibab Plateau, on the way to the north rim of the Grand Canyon, would be out of the question; a resupply meet for two different sections would be needed (to top that off, the Grandview Trail, on the south rim, is closed due to the fact that part of the upper trail slid into the gorge over the winter, preventing a planned resupply on Horseshoe Mesa).

On my permit quest, I also got a glimpse at the water conditions of some of the drainages in the region: the Little Colorado River had more water than I’ve ever seen, and that was miles from the “big” Colorado River, which was running through the National Park the color it was intended to be; a highly sediment-loaded reddish mud, as opposed to the clear ice-cold green water spewing from the Glen Canyon Damn. The Paria River, seen while traveling to get permits for the Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument showed that it was doing its share to send some sediment downriver to repair long scoured beaches in the planet’s most spectacular gorge, running at a rich chocolate-milkshake consistency. The word at the BLM office (where I obtained Glen Canyon NRA, Grand Staircase NM, and Capitol Reef NP permits) was that the Escalante River is already running too swiftly to cross safely.

A view into the Dirty Devil revealed much the same story; considerably more water than one would normally expect to see in March. I guess I can expect to find water more often, and that springs will be recharged due to the well above average precipitation so far this season. I also will be adjusting to the copious volume of water by not only floating the Escalante River, as previously planned, but now I’ll be hoofing in a life-jacket to maximize my survival potential (no point in being cocky out there; I know the scope of my existence in this massive walk through Mother Nature’s very soul); after all, I have a new wife, family, and home to return to after the journey.

Another concession to my frequent solo status is a new-fangled piece of technology; an escape of last resort known as a “TerraFix” Personal Locator Beacon (thanks to ACR Engineering!), an electronic panic-button that summons rescuers via satellite transmission. I sure hope I won’t be using that!

It’s now the moment of truth; the last minute tweaks to the load are done, the plan is in place. I’ve got everything that I’m going to have for the next almost three months either in my backpack, or in buckets spread around the region, from my garage, to Salt Lake City and Seattle, and under dispersed rocks and trees around the desert.
I’ll try this one more time…the next communication should be from out on the Hayduke Trail!

Keep it Wild,
Mike Coronella