The following is a day by day journal of John Azar's hike from the Jump up Cabin to Teddy's cabin in the Grand Canyon. The text was copied as written from John's daily entires.

TREK #30 - CABIN TO CABIN with Billy Driscoll, Brian Doyle, Mike Steck, Jeff Neilson, & Rich Dellaporta. (April 30, 1997)

Ghost Rock. John Azar's Cabin to Cabin Hike Spring of 1997. Photo by Jeff Nielson.

Wednesday, April 30, 1997 - Leave Albu. @ 12:30 PM. Drive to Gallup in truck w/ Mike Steck following us in his car. We make good time & arrive in Fredonia before 10:00 PM. The owner of Crazy Jug Motel is glad to see us. I talked to him this morning from Albu. to reserve a room. As it turns out, the only other room that was occupied turned out to be two men in a truck pulling a boat that was directly behind us. We thanked the driver for pulling over to let us pass him on the highway down from Jacob Lake. After a couple of beers in the room we are abed. I am always thankful when a road trip to the Canyon country goes well with no truck trouble. We stopped for a fine dinner at Vermillion Cliffs Lodge.

* * * *

Thursday, May 1, 1997 - I had called my good friend Michael Dussinger from V. C. before dinner and informed him that we would be into Fredonia too late to come by for a visit. I call him this AM at 8:00 and get his machine. Like a typical gen-Xer, he's still in bed. Call again at 9:00 and get his wife Vicki who wakes him up. I tell him we will be by in an hour or so.

When I planned the Chama River trip to occur immediately before this hike I figured the days on the river would put Billy and I in the right frame of mind. What the river trip accomplished was to put us in a 'blue funk'. As a consequence I didn't check the gear list and find that we left behind several items including the cook pot and BBQ grill. So before we meet Michael we head up to Kanab to the hardware and food markets. Between the four of them we find what we need and arrive at the Dussinger's house around 11:30. Mike Steck parks his car in Michael's driveway and loads his pack into the back of my truck. The plan for the shuttle calls for Billy, Mike, and myself to drive to Jump-Up cabin and unload our stuff. Mike Steck will stay with the stuff at the cabin and Billy and I will meet Michael D. at the intersection of 422 and 447 at 1:00 PM. We leave Jump-Up cabin at 12:20 and make good time along 234, arriving to meet Michael just two minutes until the hour. I lead the way to 'Quakie' where we are stopped by a large snowdrift that blocks the road. Here is where we leave the truck. It is ironic to note that the Mormon turkey hunters who admonished us years earlier with 'You boys'll never make it past Quakie' are finally right.

Michael takes us back to Jump-Up where we run over a rattlesnake just before 423. We get out of the truck to inspect the damage to the snake. He coils and warns us to stay back. We do so. He appears to be OK as he (she?) slithers into a cavity under a rock. Soon we arrive at the cabin where we find that Brian, Jeff, and Rich have arrived from the South Rim.

The group soon gets into the party mode. We pack food, have a beer, etc. This process continues until we all crash. (0 mi. hiking.)

* * * *

Friday, May 2, 1997 - We get up at 7:00 AM and start sorting, packing, etc. while Brian and I install the front door, lockset. After packing gear into Rich's truck we park it next to the hay barn, don our packs and hit the trail by 9:30. The first section down to Jump-Up spring goes by fast and we stop to view the nice pictographs near there. Around noon we arrive at the cottonwood grove 1/4 mile up from Lower Jump-Up spring. We drop packs and look for H20 under the trees, no luck. I decide to scout down the drainage for H20 while Mike looks around the cottonwoods for a seep. I get down to the main source of Lower Jump-Up spring within 15 minutes and am impressed with the flow (3 liters/minute±).

I decide to look for a route out of the canyon in lieu of returning up the bed to where the rest of the group is waiting. Sure enough there is a route that goes up the esplanade (top of the Supai group). I walk quickly along the smooth sandstone and return to my companions. They are surprised to see me coming from the opposite direction from which I started the scout. We don packs and head back upstream to a point where a trail starts east from the drainage. We take it! Unfortunately we lose the trail and bushwhack through some rough terrain in order to reach the esplanade. Once on top it becomes easy cruising on to the Mountain Sheep Spring drainage. We spend some time trying to decide whether to head up to Cottonwood Spring or down to Mountain Sheep spring to camp. So again we scout. Jeff goes up and Rich goes downstream to check on the flow(s) in the respective springs. We wait. Jeff is back first with news that he couldn't locate the spring upstream (Cottonwood). Rich is back 10 minutes after Jeff returns with the news that Mountain Sheep Spring flows well. We head down. It is a real nice flow, probably 8 - 10 liters/minute. Also there is a great campsite and as we find later in the day, a fine BBQ pit with benches made from stone slabs.

Since we are ahead of schedule we declare a layover day for mañana. We decide on our standard first night's meal, beef strogenoff, cole slaw. & soup * * A few drinks later and we're in 'the bag'. Ha! Ha! (9 mi.±)

* * * *

Saturday, May 3, 1997 - Ah, Layover Day, What a treat! I opt for a day hike down Sowats Canyon, then up Jump Up Canyon, to the obstacle that John Fields had told me about last fall. He had become separated from his hiking companions after he had fallen and injured his back. When he left his companions in Indian Hollow, he told them to come out Jump Up but later realized that their map did not show the area. He came by Jump Up cabin and told Charlie and me that he was going to hike down Jump Up to look for his companions. He came back several hours later quite upset that a 'huge pour over' had stopped him and turned him around. Ever since John's account I have been curious about a possible bypass to John's obstacle. Today, I intend to investigate the route up Jump Up Canyon. Mike agrees to accompany me, so we load day packs w/ snacks and H20 and head down Sowats Canyon.

The Sowats drainage below camp is quite lovely with pools, ferns, mosses, etc. More springs seep in from the left bank & the flow of the creek increases. At the junction of Sowats/Jump Up the flow in Sowats continues, but the Jump Up drainage is dry. We turn up Jump Up & find a spring about 1/4 mile up from the confluence. We continue on and soon find a flow in the bed coming down from Lower Jump Up spring. At last we come to John's 'obstacle' just below the lower section of narrows that exist below Jump Up spring. The grotto that is created by the huge chokestone is very comfortable, so we use it for a lunch spot. While here we discover a hand-made wooden ladder fashioned from tree branches and parachute cord. It provides the first 8' needed to reach a ledge/chimney that completes the bypass on the right as you face up the drainage. The left side bypass is a polished chute that goes up from the first side drainage below the chokestone. (150' or so) This is where you'jump up'.

After lunch we head back to camp and walk past the pools that we had vowed this morning we would jump into to cool off. Mike goes back to the pools but I opt for camp.

Tonight is steak night. What a thrill to charbroil steaks in the G. C. We are in the N. F. so it is OK to have a fire. Some nice folks left us a pile of firewood nearby the BBQ pit, so we get a fire going around 4:00 PM. We know we'll have a hot bed of coals ready for our steaks by dinnertime.

We fix the green beans, then make a batch of Steck margaritas. Um good! Mashed potatoes & gravy next, then broil the steaks. Best ever.

After dinner we stay around the campfire yakking about the day's activities and also discuss the odd pictograph above camp under the overhand that resembles a flying saucer. Quite odd! We decide they were depicting a comet. Day hike . (7 mi.) (6 mi. day hike).

* * * *

Mike Steck hikes along the Esplanade on John Azar's Cabin to Cabin Hike Spring of 1997. Photo by Jeff Nielson.

Sunday, May 4, 1997 - We are up before the sun, pack up and hit the trail. The pull out of Sowats Canyon is steep and tiring. We reach the esplanade and the trail cruises. We make good time over to the point of the Sowats Point descent. There is a stand of cottonwoods with a spring at the head of Kwagunt Canyon (yes, another Kwagunt). We press on to a drainage we think will go down to the bed of Indian Hollow where we know there is water. Brian & Jeff scout the drainage. . . Large pour off, no go. On we press towards the Fishtail Saddle looking for a way into Indian Hollow, no luck.

Everyone is starting to be concerned when we stop under a large overhang for a break and to consider our options. We decide that Jeff and Rich will remain with the packs under the overhang. Billy & Brian will go to the big drainage to see if it goes. Mike and I will go down the doubtful drainage that starts from our position at overhang. Mike and I work our way down some easy rounded supai till we come to a cliff that at first looks like it will stop us. But after some looking around we find a spot that goes down to a ledge 25' below us. Mike goes down while I check another possible route on the opposite side of the drainage. Mike gets down to where he is sure that we can get to the bed. My route is not only scary, it would take much energy to do. We head back to the others with the good news. Billy & Brian could get to within 70' of the bed but were blocked. Rich and Jeff do well at the tricky spot & soon we are cooling off in a big pool.

We move camp up the drainage to an overhang next to some nice pools to filter H20 from. This is as far as we can go, 1/4 mile up from our descent point into the bed of Indian Hollow. We are all tired but we stay up for a good dinner of jambalaya and red beans and rice.

A little talking after dinner and off to bed. (10 mi. ±).

* * * *

Monday, May 5, 1997 - Cinco de Mayo, fajitas & Steck margaritas tonight. . . or so I think. The morning goes well as we make good time threading our way up Indian Hollow drainage. Two hours after leaving campsite we come to the base of Fishtail Saddle. The route is obvious & steep. We grind our way up, up, up & reach the saddle in another 1.5 hours. After a long snack break to rest & take scenic photos we head down a route that is heavily cairned but hasn't seen any traffic other than game in some time. Perhaps the botanic study done in the 1970s is responsible for the marked trail. The idea was to compare native grasses from an area that was never grazed by cattle (Fishtail Mesa) with practically all the West, which of course has been grazed, overgrazed and as Abbey put it, 'cow-burned'. I think it is a terrible commentary that they had to look to Fishtail Mesa for a spot where man hadn't drug their cows.

We make good time getting down from the saddle and when we reach the long arm of Fishtail drainage our day's troubles begin.

Mike and Brian get separated from the rest of us and so we head for the top of the Fishtail drainage (east arm), find a shady overhang and wait for them to catch up. We wait . . . after 30 minutes we hear Mike yelling from 1/2 mile away. Surprise! They got down and back up the drainage without us noticing them. We pack up and catch up to them in a short while. Whew!

Our goal is Ghost Rock and so we spend all afternoon looking for it. (After we walked right past it.) By dusk we give up and fall into a dry camp. Mike is not sure which drainage to take and it seems we are off track. We are very low on H20 and our spirits wilt to some differing depths. Since we can't spare any H20 for dinner or coffee we use nearly all our remaining cabbage for a big batch of cole slaw. (9.5 mi.±).

* * * *

Tuesday, May 6, 1997 - We are all up early and break camp by first light. Mike and Brian head back towards Fishtail to look for Ghost Rock and Billy and I head east down lower in the esplanade. On the Tonto the routes are obvious, but on the esplanade one can lose track of routes quite easily. Billy and I check on two 'Ghost Rock'-like boulders and come up empty. We find some fresh prints of two hikers that were just as lost as we are. Jeff and Rich were to move packs to a shaded spot and then one would stay with the packs and the other would come back to our campsite to wait for the scouting parties.

Jeff turns out to be the one at camp when Billy and I return. We relate to Jeff the results and all three of us head for the shady spot where Rich is waiting.

Mike and Brian have found Ghost Rock (Mikey finds H20 pools below Ghost Rock.) and we all get excited with the news.

NOTE: Ghost Rock Inventory

8 - tobacco cans
1 - broken green ceramic cup
6 - bean cans
1 - wood stove cover (10 in. C)
1 - pc. wood stove top
1 - large tin can (2 qt.)
2 - crushed unidentifiable cans
1 - pc. 1/4' x 8' x 12' plywood.
Various chards, chips, unsuccessful arrowheads, 1 pc. corregated chard.
(May 6, 1997)

Little did we know at the time that Ghost Rock would lead us into the wrong drainage. Instead of Cranberry Canyon, we head into the head of Deer Creek drainage. We are concerned that Mike doesn't recognize the route but we disregard our concern when we find a cairn and some footprints. The way down is a scramble but not difficult. When we reach the top of the redwall we get on a Tonto-like platform that Billy names 'Satan's Garden'. We think we are in Cranberry Canyon heading for the turn into Deer Creek when we come upon a 'side' drainage that turns out to be the main bed of Upper Deer Creek. At the time we are tired and confused so we find a way down to the bed where there is a spring with some pools. We are a little rattled so I declare to the group that we'll camp here by the spring. Everyone is content with that except Billy who wants to scout down the left side above the drainage. I don't want him to go alone and no one else volunteers to go with him so I am compelled to go along.

We are already fatigued when we start the scout. It is 3:30 PM and hot. Our situation is not helped by taking only a liter of H20 each. Satan's Garden is rocky, dry, thorny, and generally nasty. We poke along walking on the 'edge of oblivion' some of the way. The redwall gorge is very impressive and I toss a couple of fist-sized rocks into the abyss and wait for the sound of report. 6 seconds. We, of course, can't see the bottom but once we caught a glimpse of some nice sculpture work on the opposite wall where intruding floods had created some wonderful work.

When we turn the corner we realize where we are, the entire Deer Creek is in view as well as a spectacular view down to the river gorge. We struggle back to camp. Our companions are dismayed at not being in Cranberry but glad to know where we are: Vaughn Spring.

We decide to celebrate the discovery of where we are by having the fajita dinner tonight. Everyone pitches in and we rob the red wine from the lasagna dinner and cook up a great batch of fajitas.

After dinner we realize that we were somewhat misinformed as to the relationship between Ghost Rock and Cranberry drainage. George Steck had told me that he wasn't sure of the exact location of Ghost Rock, but I passed it off as not being important at the time. Now I realize that I should have rechecked my information. What we have to attempt in the morning is an escape from this drainage by pressing on and upstream in lieu of retracing our steps. (6 miles±) (5 miles± scout).

* * * *

Tapeats Spring. John Azar's Cabin to Cabin Hike Spring of 1997. Photo by Jeff Nielson.

Wednesday, May 7, 1997 - We are up well before the sun and top off our water bottles from Vaughn Spring. No breakfast as we want to get out of the drainage before it gets too hot. We are packed up and 'on the trail' by 6:45 AM. We weave our way up, boulder hopping and dealing with the usual bypasses. Vaughn Spring is actually a series of five springs in a row with the last one the most spectacular. Unfortunately there is a 20' high shelf above the spring that prevents us from continuing out the bed. We had noticed a possible up climb through the cliffs 100 yards down from the last spring. I go back to attempt the ascent.

The first section is the usual talus slope and I reach the base of the first cliff in a few minutes. I start up the first section with my pack on and it goes easily. When I get to the next pitch I find it is more difficult than it looked from the creek bed. I glance to my right and see a small tunnel going under a large rock. I crawl through on my hands and knees as there is no headroom whatsoever. Unbuckling my pack in the tunnel, I get to a spot where an upclimb w/out a pack is possible... I climb up to the next ledge. Unfortunately, my pack is right in Billy's way when he gets to the tunnel. He asks me to come back down and move my pack. I don't like the prospects of down climbing my last move so I yell down to him to push my pack out of the way. Billy is worried that he'll push my pack off the cliff but is able to keep my pack from falling and still get by. He looks at the next move with his pack on, but agrees with me after checking that we'll raise packs here. The rest of the guys are stacking up at the tunnel so I ask for Mikey's rope and a larger carabiner as mine is too small to go on the pack frames. Bri comes on up to my level and we begin the process of lifting packs up the pitch. In 30 minutes we're all up on the next level and find we have one more set of supai cliffs until we reach the esplanade. While taking a rest in the shade a baby (4 yr.) rattlesnake exposes itself for a few seconds and then slithers into the brush and out of sight. - but not out of mind. I check up the drainage for a break and Mikey looks down the drainage where he finds a large break in the last set of supai cliffs. We are out at last.

Soon we come to a spring that comes up onto the esplanade and runs 100 feet or so before sinking into the dry sand. None of us can comprehend the spring in this location but we are obliged to dip into it for soup and have lunch in the nearby shade of a big obelisk of supai sandstone. We open the last of our sausage and add some to the soup with garlic & onion.

After an hour we put on our packs and head back into the hot sun. Mike and I had discussed the possibility that we might be close to the trail that extends to the west from the foot of Bill Hall Trail. Indeed, in a few more minutes of random esplanade hiking we come to a well worn path leading east towards Bridger's Knoll. I yell back to the rest of the party that I have a trail, and Rich and Jeff rejoice. I think they were wondering if we would ever reconnect with a human trail.

Our pace picks up on the easy trail and we soon see signs of civilization. Cryptobiotic soils are stomped out in many places where people have stepped off the trail to pee or seek some shade. Candy wrappers, cigarette butts, plastic bags, etc. begin to appear as we pick up the Thunder River Trail and head for Surprise Valley. At the top of the redwall and while resting in the shade a young couple with a baby come up to their packs which were near us. Mike strikes up a conversation with them by asking if they would like him to take their 'family photo'. They of course accept the offer and begin to tell us about the hike they did with the baby in the Canyonlands. The young man wanted to talk more, but Mama put the baby in Dad's day pack and off they went back up Bill Hall Trail. I was just as glad to see them go as I was hoping we'd get by this stretch without dealing with crowds. Boy was I wrong! People upon people. (We camp above Thunder River.) (10 mi.±)

* * * *

Thursday, May 8, 1997 - Thunder River Falls is as impressive as Roaring Springs and then some. You can access the rolling water along the entire route. Thunder River, I am told, is the shortest river in the world. It also has the distinction of being the only river that dumps into a creek. What's the difference you ask? A creek drains a canyon with all its tributary drainages. A river drains a plateau or section thereof.

Thunder River starts up in Utah somewhere and runs underground the Arizona Strip & shoots out the base of the Redwall (actually out of the Muav just below the Redwall) with a tremendous display of water & mist.

We hang out at Thunder River for an hour or so getting in and out of the water, drinking the water, sunning or sitting in the shade of any number of healthy cottonwood trees that line both sides of the cascade.

Reluctantly, we don our backpacks and head down the hot trail to Tapeats Creek. At Tapeats Creek there are more people, but we find a campsite with a little bit of privacy. It is still early in the day so we look at the flow to see if we can cross or not.

The combined flow of Thunder River and Tapeats Creek is impressive. We think back to Shinumo Creek one spring in 1989 (?) which had a flow similar but slightly less force as it's declination was less. We head back to our packs for lunch (chicken & rice).

After lunch Billy volunteers to attempt a river crossing to set a handline and check the trail upstream on the opposite bank. We make a chest harness and tie Billy in. Using a carabiner, our climbing rope is clipped on to Billy's harness and he heads across the river (creek) with two hiking sticks as aides. He makes it. After setting the handline on his side, Billy takes off to scout the trail past Thunder River/Tapeats confluence. The rest of us go back and wait for Billy's return.

He is back soon and we prepare to cross with our gear. A tyrolean traverse works on the gear and we all use the handline to get across the strong current. Mike gets a couple of kids to untie the opposite side after he is across to where the rest of us wait.

Happily we pack upstream to a beautiful overhang campsite. Our only problem is red ants. We do the spaghetti and red wine, hang up all the candle lanterns and have some fun. I make some deviled eggs and saute some salami & garlic to add to the dry mix. Spaghetti comes out great. (4 mi ±)

* * * *

Friday, May 9, 1997 - Today our goal is to get up the Tapeats Creek drainage to above it's juncture with Tapeats Amphitheatre. Tapeats Amphitheatre, of course, holds the main flow of Tapeats Creek originating in Tapeats Spring and also boasts Tapeats Cave. We expect a difficult time crossing Tapeats Creek until we get past its confluence with the Tapeats Spring flow.

After a good breakfast we pack up and begin the arduous task of crossing and recrossing the torrent of running water. When our crossings are made where the slope of the riverbed is not steep, the crossings are easier. Where the declination is greater, it takes all our strength to cross. We make a total of eight fords, that is except Rich, who bulls his way up the right side of the creek through the main flow to the safety of the bank above. The rest of us cross and recross. We are tired but happy when the flow from Tapeats Spring is behind us. We continue upstream a 1/2 mile or so and fall into camp. We don't understand why we are so tired until we start discussing our differing techniques for fording the creek. Some of us faced upstream, some downstream, myself; I turn my shoulder upstream with my hiking stick jammed in the bed of the creek downstream. So the hiking and fording took its toll and we start dinner early. We lie in the pools, have plum wine, mandarin orange chicken (not as good as chicken polynesian), deviled eggs, & soup. We are asleep by nightfall. (3 mi. ±)

* * * *

Saturday, May 10, 1997 - We are up with the sun and try an experiment for breakfast. I had asked everyone for a portion of their remaining jerky. I then topped them with fresh onion, garlic, water, oil and vinegar. Red chili powder to the max and then boil and let set covered all night. This AM I got the Irishmen to make mashed potatoes with cheese sauce, and then fry the remaining tortillas. The last touch is to saute` the jerky/adovava mix and voila! Tacos carnitas y papas.

After slowly packing up we start boulder hopping. The flow in the creek comes and goes and we get nervous every time it dries up. None of us want to backtrack for water from our camp up the drainage. As our luck would have it, there is plenty of water in the bed of Crazy Jug. We head up the Crazy Jug drainage where Billy finds us a nice campsite - muav ledges, a stand-up shower, great kitchen, tent sites, etc. It looks like rain so some tents go up, including mine.

We open the canned ham and do scalloped potatoes and applesauce.

After dinner we have margaritas. Mike is back from his scout trip to find our redwall route and tells us some of the details. The talk of a narrow ledge with exposure catches everyone's attention. A discussion of Fishtail Saddle, Thunder River, Tapeats Creek, etc. helps the atmosphere some, but we all go to bed with ideas of scary exploits tomorrow. (4 mi. ±)

* * * *

Sunday, May 11, 1997 - We are up early in anticipation of going up the redwall route. We open the last can of milk and have a huge batch of pancakes, fruit cocktail, left over applesauce, left over dry cereal, etc.

We pack up and get going by 8 o'clock. The route is in the shade early on and we make good time past the exposed ledge. A few upclimbs in the drainage brings us to the spot where we have to wade through a deep pool to a friction climb on water-polished rock. I change shoes twice. On we go to a strenuous upclimb and bypass and then lunch in the shade (soup).

Now we hit the supai and more obstacles. Lift packs, climb up through a wormhole and then we hit the bypass from Hell. The climb up the supai ledges kept taking us higher and higher until some steep upclimbs with considerable exposure. I am above Mike, Jeff, and Bri when I hear a commotion from below. In a minute or so I hear Jeff call for Mike's rope. I am spotting Mike at the time so I pull the rope out of his pack and throw it down to Jeff. I find out that Billy was in the middle of what was called the 'bush move' when he was struck in the head with a falling rock. The rope is to raise Billy's pack so he can move up to the safety of the next ledge.

The rock made a good gash in Billy's head and his hat has a big, bloody spot on it. I am skeptical when he says he's OK and puts his pack back on. We push on up to where we can finally traverse the ledges upstream and get back into the bed of Saddle Canyon drainage. We push on and on until we find a little clearing in the otherwise rocky and bushy creekbed and make camp. Exhausted, we fall into our beds. (5 mi. ±)

* * * *

Monday, May 12, 1997 - We sleep in a little because of the colder air at this elevation. We know we are within a couple miles of the cabin and will be there by mid-day. A meager breakfast of oatmeal, wait for the sun to hit camp and we're off for the cabin. New Mexico locust, wild rose, scrub oak, and other want to pull us back. We struggle up to the cabin in three hours, arriving here by noon.

Everyone is relieved to be at Teddy's cabin. I think Jeff and Rich wondered if we were actually in the right drainage. We make a trip to the spring and photograph Bass' cabin ruins. A lunch from our meager food supply consists of the last of the potatoes and some chicken noodle soup. * * About all we have left is tonight's dinner, the lasagna. The remainder of the day is spent resting up for tomorrow's hike to the truck. I put my solar shower out, do a little repair work on the cabin,and make a note in the cabin register. We fix a batch of lasagna and I use the last three eggs for a round of deviled eggs. We are in bed by dusk. (3 mi.±)

* * * *

Tuesday, May 13, 1997 - We're up early and choke down some canyon apples I had rehydrated last night. I even manage to get down some of the oatmeal I have in my pack. We head up to Swamp Point at 8:10 AM. and do the long walk to the Point Sublime junction. On to Quakie and look for the truck. Brian and I scout the wrong road and come back thirsty and exhausted. Jeff and Billy take the keys and find the truck at the other end of Quakie. We drive to Jump-Up cabin and party. (15 mi ± with pack) (10 mi ± scout trip).

(108 miles total).

NOTE: This hike was actually prompted by a joke . . . When we first volunteered to restore the Jump Up cabin for the Forest Service I mentioned to someone that after finishing our work at Jump Up , we would fill our packs with tools and hike through the canyon to Teddy's cabin to do some work there (whomever I told this to was unaware that Teddy's was already finished). The more I thought of the joke, the more feasable it seemed. Harvey (Butchart) tried to dissuade me in a letter regarding my idea but I stuck with the plan. Now I will be happy to report that the trek was successful.

Mike and George Steck were instrumental to the planning and implementation of this trip.

Used by permission of the Grand Canyon Pioneers Society.

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