Thrashing Down the Escalante
As I mentioned earlier, it looks like I have a partner for the duration of this adventure; Ray Klukoska, a well-traveled fellow originally from Ohio. His summer’s Denali trip got cancelled, and he was looking an adventure, and adventures we’ve had! He managed to get things together, including putting out a couple of caches, before getting dropped off in Middle Moody Canyon.
We got to the Escalante River the first day Ray joined me – it was running pretty good. We decided to head to East Moody Canyon, a little over a mile down river, to get a feel for the water and our little trail boats. After figuring out how to get both body and backpack into these tiny vessels (which are rated for substantially less weight than we had in them), we floated down – and it was a hoot!
As soon as we got to East Moody, we were treated to an incredible thunderstorm, which we watched from the shelter of a massive amphitheater in the red rock wall. Waterfalls started coming off the 100-foot walls everywhere, some carrying huge amounts of debris. East Moody Creek quickly turned to a raging muddy torrent; we wondered what that would do to the river. In the morning we found out: the volume had easily doubled.
Ray’s boat was the first to sustain damage – a huge tear in the floor left him with just the main tube for flotation, but we made it to Scorpion Gulch without any more mishaps. Once again, a massive thunderstorm kicked in as soon as we got off the river. The next day, my 26th day out, showed a calmer river with the lower flow exposing rocks in the watercourse. We even had to portage around places that would have surely flipped our boats. Then Ray blew out the main tube in his boat, which we managed to repair by cutting a section off the popped floor. Then it was my turn – my floor blew out on a hidden rock. Next, my mini kayak-type paddle snapped in half, leaving me with a tiny little oar for maneuvering. Still, we made it to Fool’s Canyon, some 12 miles.
From Fool’s Canyon to Coyote Gulch is another eight miles. We figured it would be just a few hours. That was, of course, until Ray’s boat blew out completely, sending a spray of water up like a whale. We managed to get Ray and his pack to the riverbank, but his boat was lost. With one boat between us, we decided to let the packs ride, while Ray walked the river and lined / swam the boat down and I scrambled in and out of the water, keeping pace. At one point, hiking through deep grass, a surprised garter snake slithered right over my foot and I am NOT a fan of snakes.
A couple of hours later, a side canyon opened into view on river left, revealing a massive arch in the towering red wall. Stephen’s Arch; Coyote Gulch was only another long meander away. Our river adventure was nearing its end. The last half hour, though, was spent trudging in the river bed, which, at times, had been backed up by Lake Foul (Powell): deep gravelling quicksand that inundates the sandals, making for the most painful walking either of us had experienced. I finished barefoot.
Now at the mouth of Coyote Gulch, we were surprised to see two more boats coming down the river. Two men and a dog were nearing the end of their own adventure; they, however, had the proper boats (duckies), the proper gear (dry bags), and were headed down to the lake where a motorboat was waiting. They were amazed that we were able to make the trip with such bizarre little boats. They (thank you!) took the tattered remains of my boat out with them, saving me from carrying a few extra pounds for the next few days.
Now, a couple of easy days in Coyote Gulch…
Keep it wild,
Mike
We got to the Escalante River the first day Ray joined me – it was running pretty good. We decided to head to East Moody Canyon, a little over a mile down river, to get a feel for the water and our little trail boats. After figuring out how to get both body and backpack into these tiny vessels (which are rated for substantially less weight than we had in them), we floated down – and it was a hoot!
As soon as we got to East Moody, we were treated to an incredible thunderstorm, which we watched from the shelter of a massive amphitheater in the red rock wall. Waterfalls started coming off the 100-foot walls everywhere, some carrying huge amounts of debris. East Moody Creek quickly turned to a raging muddy torrent; we wondered what that would do to the river. In the morning we found out: the volume had easily doubled.
Ray’s boat was the first to sustain damage – a huge tear in the floor left him with just the main tube for flotation, but we made it to Scorpion Gulch without any more mishaps. Once again, a massive thunderstorm kicked in as soon as we got off the river. The next day, my 26th day out, showed a calmer river with the lower flow exposing rocks in the watercourse. We even had to portage around places that would have surely flipped our boats. Then Ray blew out the main tube in his boat, which we managed to repair by cutting a section off the popped floor. Then it was my turn – my floor blew out on a hidden rock. Next, my mini kayak-type paddle snapped in half, leaving me with a tiny little oar for maneuvering. Still, we made it to Fool’s Canyon, some 12 miles.
From Fool’s Canyon to Coyote Gulch is another eight miles. We figured it would be just a few hours. That was, of course, until Ray’s boat blew out completely, sending a spray of water up like a whale. We managed to get Ray and his pack to the riverbank, but his boat was lost. With one boat between us, we decided to let the packs ride, while Ray walked the river and lined / swam the boat down and I scrambled in and out of the water, keeping pace. At one point, hiking through deep grass, a surprised garter snake slithered right over my foot and I am NOT a fan of snakes.
A couple of hours later, a side canyon opened into view on river left, revealing a massive arch in the towering red wall. Stephen’s Arch; Coyote Gulch was only another long meander away. Our river adventure was nearing its end. The last half hour, though, was spent trudging in the river bed, which, at times, had been backed up by Lake Foul (Powell): deep gravelling quicksand that inundates the sandals, making for the most painful walking either of us had experienced. I finished barefoot.
Now at the mouth of Coyote Gulch, we were surprised to see two more boats coming down the river. Two men and a dog were nearing the end of their own adventure; they, however, had the proper boats (duckies), the proper gear (dry bags), and were headed down to the lake where a motorboat was waiting. They were amazed that we were able to make the trip with such bizarre little boats. They (thank you!) took the tattered remains of my boat out with them, saving me from carrying a few extra pounds for the next few days.
Now, a couple of easy days in Coyote Gulch…
Keep it wild,
Mike
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