COMBINED EXPERTISE FOR A GRAND CANYON EXPERIENCE.

Let The Story Begin.
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COMBINED EXPERTISE FOR A GRAND CANYON EXPERIENCE.

By, Vic Topmiller Jr.

The word is out on the great fishing on the Colorado River in Northern Arizona and the news of trophy Rainbows was more than my friend Gary and I could take.

I’m not much of a fisherman but the prospect of a backpack trip into a new and wild place was motivation enough for me.

Gary, not being a backpacker, and me not being a fisherman seemed to pose no problem at all. I prepared the packs and gear while he collected rods, reels and lures.

He had gotten wind of super fishing down stream from Marble Canyon Bridge while fishing upstream from there towards the Glen Canyon Dam. The fishing there was good. The word was that the big ones, the potential record breakers, were in the remote un-molested waters down stream from the bridge.

I had just read an article on Trout fishing in the Colorado and presumptuously decided that even I might be successful in this anglers’ paradise.

Simultaneously, Gary had heard of a trail down South Canyon through Buffalo Ranch that would put us right on the edge of Utopia. Knowing that I was a good backpacker with good experience and equipment, Gary rang my bell and proposed a combination trip. I said, “How long is the trail?” He said, “About six miles.” I said, “No sweat.”

Because I sold USGS Quad maps in my office, I had no trouble locating on my index the maps I would need to cover the trail into Marble Canyon. The one thing that did bother me a little bit was the lack of trail identification on the maps.

Before taking the trail we stopped at the Park Service office at Marble Canyon to secure a camp permit and discovered that a very comprehensive trail map had been prepared which proved to be very handy. The Park Ranger told us about the trail and the lack of a trail in some places.

We left the Bronco at the end of the road on the rim of Marble Canyon and followed the sign to the edge where the trailhead made its way through a narrow crevice created by a slab of vertical rock which had fallen away from the canyon rim.

As we stood there on the rim acknowledging God’s art work and after an instant of respectful reverence, we became aware that this was not a normal trail and if trout was on the menu for supper, we’d better get a move on.

Carrying more than enough camera equipment as well as fishing gear made cascading down the rim to the bottom of South Canyon a little more than exciting, especially for Gary, who hadn’t packed before.

I’m in the mountains on a regular basis in my work and Gary is a distance runner which proved to be a blessing for both of us before we encountered the Colorado.

After reaching the bottom of South Canyon I was sure the trail would be gentle and manicured, but boulder hopping and dropping down ledges was the fare. Knowing now that this was no two mile an hour trail, the idea of trout for supper was growing pretty dim.

The difficulty of the trail was moderated by the shear beauty of the red bluffs and the sandstone walls that grew taller and taller as we moved down and down toward the river. Every quarter mile or so I stopped and looked back up the trail to examine the unique and rugged terrain. I was surprised at how quickly the trail we had passed over disappeared into the vastness of the scenery.

I was pretty tired as we grew closer to the end of the trail and our first glimpse of the greenish water of the Colorado was very welcome. Little did we know that rugged trail still lay ahead.

Reaching the canyon floor much too late to fish for supper food and very, very tired, we decided to make camp and have a delightful meal of my normal cuisine, minute rice mixed with whatever else my wife might have thrown in.

I’ve always heard that God watches over dumb animals, but that was the fartherest thing from my mind, when a group from a nearby rafting camp came up with a large Rainbow trout, wrapped in aluminum foil and basted with butter, onions and spices, cooked to perfection by the hands of a genius.

“We’ve got this big trout left over from supper and it’s too good to throw away,” he said.
“Would you fellows like to have it?” Things were starting to go our way.

I woke up the next morning just after day-break to find my partner already whipping Rapala lures out to the edge of the current.

Being more inclined to explore and make photos, I left him fishing and went to visit. I was certain when we left the rim that we would not cast eyes on another being until we returned. I was surprised to find that the beach we were on was a popular campsite for rafters. I was also surprised to find that many of the rafting guides were petite females and I got to thank one of these for the fabulous trout dinner we had the night before.
(Thanks Fritz)

I felt obligated to fish since Gary had gone to all of the trouble to bring fishing gear, plus, I was standing in what was supposed to be outstanding trout country, so, I lost one Rapala and drowned another when I noticed Vasey’s Paradise down stream about one half mile. Vasey’s Paradise consists of two very large streams of water pouring out of the lower part of the vertical wall of the canyon then cascading across the alluvials on its way to the river creating a floral display of Crimson Monkey Flower, the Yellow Curlycup Gumweed and other blue wildflowers contrasted against dark green foliage.

The contrast of this paradise against the obvious lack of vegetation in the rest of the canyon made for a breath taking visual.

Vasey’s Paradise was only the first intriguing discovery. Next were Indian Ruins on ledges one hundred or two hundred feet above the river. Possibly they were used for grain storage above the potential for flooding. Having visited many authentic remote ruins, these seemed extremely crude and roughly constructed and at first I thought that they were the remains of a Hollywood movie set. But after closer examination, the bits and pieces of pottery (chards) I found confirmed their authenticity.

As for fishing, I got one strike and pulled in a twenty-five inch Rainbow. What a beauty! I was quite elated that I caught a fish at all since I don’t consider myself much of a fisherman, yet strangely enough, quite satisfied to lay down my pole for the rest of the trip.

For Gary, it was quite a different story, the smallest of his three fish was about twenty inches and his largest was about twenty-two inches. It made a delicious dinner.

Sunday Morning , bright and early, we gave away the remainder of our Minute Rice, restored the camp to its natural state and headed up the trail.

It took a little over an hour longer to come out than it did to go in and if it hadn’t been for Gary’s gate setting the pace, it would have taken longer. Two exhausted boys popped over the rim.

On the trip back to Silver City, New Mexico, as I reflected on this pack trip, I determined to myself to join forces with the many who have made a personal commitment to maintain the natural, unspoiled beauty of the Grand Canyon and its rivers that feed it. As it is more and more difficult to locate areas that haven’t been abused by the public, it has become an urgent mandate that we adopt a policy of persistent preservation.

If I had any reservations about the rigid regulations of the National Park Service, I now see them as realistic and essential.

Now, as I think back about the majesty, the dignity of the Marble Canyon experience and the rare flowers that grace its confines, I am reminded of the Bible verse that describes so perfectly;

“And why do you worry about clothes? See how the flowers of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you—you of little faith? So do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.”

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