Tuckup–Stairway Loop

In May 2015, we did an eight-day, seven-night backpack trip on the Tuckup-Stairway Loop in Grand Canyon National Park, Arizona. However, we were unsuccessful exiting Stairway Canyon, so we had to turn around. John was 62 and I was 61. This is an unofficial route located in the more remote northwestern part of Grand Canyon National Park, Arizona. It starts at the Schmutz Spring Trailhead of the Tuckup Trail. However, one leaves the trail to drop down into a drainage that leads to Tuckup Canyon. The route continues down Tuckup Canyon to the Colorado River and follows the river downstream until one reaches Stairway Canyon. The route continues up this canyon. After reaching the top of Stairway Canyon, one then returns to the Tuckup Trail to continue to the Schmutz Spring Trailhead. This route is described in a book by George Steck, Grand Canyon Loop Hikes.

This trip was more adventurous than any trail or route we had done in the canyon. However, as we had hiked nearly every trail in the national park we thought we were up to the challenge. We had read that having a rope would be useful for lowering and raising packs. We had also read that there was an impressive down climb near the mouth of Tuckup Canyon. I was anxious about this. To assuage my fears, John suggested that I rappel down it, so he brought 60 feet of rope, 20 feet of webbing and a harness. And we both had our iPhones with Steck’s book and several trip reports loaded as PDFs so we thought we were well prepared.

Our plan was to camp at the trailhead so we could get an early start. We made the long drive to the trailhead. A high-clearance vehicle is a must! It was such a relief to finally reach the trailhead. There are at least two good-sized established campsites.

We had great views of the canyon …

… and the beautiful evening sky.

We were up early the next morning. The descent into the canyon here is said to be the gentlest of all trails that go into the canyon as the trail initially follows an old road so the grade is gradual.

We had read that there are many fossils in the rock and saw some good examples.

John did some exploring across a small drainage from a side canyon …

… as he wanted to find Schmutz Spring in case we needed it as a source of water on our way out.

We continued on the trail until we encountered a cairn at a spot where it was easy to drop into the drainage. This route takes one to a popular destination for day hikers – Shaman’s Gallery.

It is the best collection of pictographs we have ever seen. While some are quite elaborate …

… others are deceptively simple.

We continued down the drainage toward Tuckup Canyon. Much of the walking was quite easy.

But it wasn’t long before the gradual drop …

… caused the canyon walls to appear to rise above us.

The walking continued to be mostly easy, but as the canyon narrowed, we began encountering boulder jams that required some route-finding and down climbing. But nothing was too time-consuming and we reached Cottonwood Canyon, our destination for the day, by midafternoon. John explored up canyon a bit …

… while I set up camp on a convenient rock ledge. It was a bit windy as the narrow canyon acts like a wind tunnel but there are enough rocks around, so we were able to anchor the tent. That night we were serenaded by a wide variety of frog voices. We heard familiar tenors as well as basses but we also heard some frog song unlike any we have heard before. One frog sounded like a chicken and another just like a barking dog. It was funny at first but less so as the night wore on and we just wanted to get to sleep. However, we couldn’t complain as we were the intruders.

We left camp early the next morning and before long encountered a large chockstone. John has some rock-climbing experience, but I do not beyond some scrambling. So, he belayed me while I did my first-ever chimney maneuver. I did fine although it was a bit of a drop at the bottom. John had no trouble.

Once down I looked back and thought how great it was that we wouldn’t be coming back that way because I thought I would never be able to get back up that chockstone. Little did I know that a few days later, I would have to eat those words.

Between the periodic minor obstacles there were long stretches of easy walking through the beautiful canyon complete with an unusual arch.

However, there were times when we had to negotiate minor obstacles that I was uncomfortable crossing with my pack so John sometimes carried it for me.

But everything we encountered was well worth it to see this lovely canyon.

We passed some cairns on the left and were perplexed. However, I know there is a special breed of canyon explorers who do all sorts of unofficial routes in Grand Canyon and maybe these cairns lead to another way into and out of Tuckup.

Before long we reached Conglomerate Arch.

This appropriately named arch consists of many smaller rocks seemingly held together by dried mud. I’ve seen photographs of people standing on top of it but standing under it …

… and looking up at its crumbly texture, I decided it wasn’t something I would be willing to do.

We continued and negotiated some minor obstacles.

Not long after this we encountered a larger obstacle, a broad limestone chute. We decided to stop for lunch before heading down it (it looked a little intimidating from above to me). As we ate, we began to hear voices and figured some adventurous rafters were making their way up the canyon. I was soon surprised to see a blond head pop out of the chute. She apparently had on some very grippy shoes and literally ran up it. At that same moment I saw a head poke out of a hole on the left side of the canyon which was apparently another way up. But at the time, as we weren’t planning to come back this way, I didn’t pay too much attention to it.

We talked briefly to the rafters. Then they continued up canyon and we continued down. We encountered some cairns leading up to a bypass on the right (facing down canyon). It was a decent route although it was airy in places.

Later on, we reached an obstacle in the conglomerate layer of rock. We couldn’t see over the edge so were uncertain if there were secure footholds and handholds. We are way too old to even think about jumping down to the large grey rock situated below. Fortunately, right at that moment the rafters were making their way down canyon, and they assured us it was an easy down climb. There was a handhold right at the top and another lower down to the left. The underside provided several places just big enough to get a toe on long enough to safely lower myself. So, I eased myself over the edge and, sure enough, my feet found purchase.

This is what it looks like from below. A belay is not necessary, but I have a tendency to get nervous with anything a bit climby. John belayed me several times on this trip. Fortunately, I never needed him to arrest a fall, but it gave me some badly needed self-confidence.

Once down on the boulder, we still needed to negotiate a crack between the large grey rock and the canyon wall.

What we didn’t realize at the time is this is apparently the obstacle that causes hikers to take a bypass and descend back to the canyon floor via the infamous big down climb that is mentioned in nearly every trip report I have read. I had been really dreading it. I sincerely hoped it looked worse than it really was, but we had come prepared for me to rappel down it if necessary. I had rappelled only once before but thought I could do it. However, we had no idea if there was anything we could have used as an anchor. Thankfully, we were able to easily get down this obstacle, so we didn’t need to cope with the big down climb.

Once down the obstacle, we continued enjoying the stretches of easy walking …

… and views of this beautiful canyon.

I was still expecting to encounter the big down climb, so I was perplexed when we started to hear the river and then saw it. Somehow, we had missed it! I was quite relieved and willing to accept this as a gift from the Cosmos.

The rafters we encountered had set up camp farther down the beach. Therefore, we set up camp on the beach upstream from the mouth of Tuckup. It is not that we are antisocial …

… we just prefer to enjoy the scenery in quiet and solitude.

The following day our plan was to hike down the river for seven miles to the mouth of Stairway Canyon. There is a narrow strip of steep, loose rock between the river and the canyon wall, with vegetation running between the two canyons. We have read different accounts of what it is like to hike down the river. George Steck mentions fighting tamarisk, but his group made it from Tuckup to Stairway in one day. One person went so far as to say it was “easy”. Another described it as a trudge at times and that they tried to avoid the vegetation by staying higher in the rocks.

We have read other accounts where backpackers hitched rides with rafters. We decided to consider that option if it presented itself, but I couldn’t help but feel it would be cheating. With that in mind, John approached the group of rafters camped nearby to feel them out. Most of the individuals in the group were willing but there was apparently some concern by the leader that they could get into trouble with the park service if they did so.

However, the next morning we talked briefly to the rafters and the consensus was if we wanted a ride, we could have one. However, they would not be ready to leave for another hour or so and they would be stopping at National Canyon. We were anxious to get started, so we decided to go ahead and try hiking it. It was a big mistake. We bushwhacked through the thick brush for an hour. The invasive tamarisk is a problem all along the river. We had encountered this invasive plant before, but it was nothing like this. However, the worst was the mesquite, a shrubby and very thorny tree.

We had gone less than a mile in an hour when John suggested we find a beach and wait for the raft group hoping they were still willing to give us a ride. While we waited, it became windy and it started to rain. I’m sure we looked quite pathetic, so the two rafts pulled over and we happily hopped aboard. We thanked them profusely! As we floated down the river, I scanned the shore and observed that the brush thinned out in places but that it was steep and rocky the entire way. The more I saw the more I appreciated the gift of this boat ride. The rain even stopped and the sun came out!

The raft group stopped at National Canyon and John went up as far as he could with them without getting his boots wet.

We continued downriver and arrived at Stairway Canyon by lunchtime.

After saying goodbye (and again thanking them profusely) we looked for a place to set up camp. Once done with that, we hiked up Stairway to see if we could locate the ways around some of the obstacles that George Steck refers to in his book. We found his instructions confusing and were never certain we were at the specific places he was describing. It was getting late, so we headed back to camp and hoped for the best.

We got an early start the next morning because we knew it would be a long, strenuous day. One of the issues with the hike up Stairway is water. Our plan was to camp at Willow Spring that night but by most accounts, it is too mineralized to be drinkable. Problems include bad taste and intestinal upset. Therefore, when we left camp early the next morning, we were loaded down with nearly two gallons of water apiece. I found it quite difficult to carry my very heavy pack up obstacles I had done without any trouble the day before when I wasn’t carrying anything. John gallantly offered to carry it up for me on multiple occasions.

George Steck wrote about four Redwall (a prominent rock layer in Grand Canyon) obstacles in Stairway. Unfortunately, we still found his instructions confusing. We negotiated the obstacles we encountered and continued up the canyon.

We continued up the canyon …

… and arrived at the chockstone tunnel by midmorning. It had started to rain so we decided to take a break there in hopes it would stop or at the very least let up. The more it rained the more concerned we became about losing traction on wet rock. The rain did eventually stop but it was still quite cool.

We continued to make our way up the canyon.

The farther we went, the less certain we became about the route.

It appeared we needed to take a bypass, and this seemed like the best option.

Then it seemed we needed to return to the canyon floor, so we descended.

After we returned to the canyon floor from the bypass, John explored farther up canyon while I took a break. He encountered what might have been the 50-foot pour-off Steck described. We searched for a way around it but couldn’t get Steck’s description or the trip reports we had to match what we were seeing.

We explored the steep, loose slopes on both sides of the canyon looking for a bypass. It was then we came to the discouraging conclusion that we were stuck. We felt we had no other option but to turn back.

We descended the talus slope. Unfortunately, a handhold that I thought was secure gave way and I took a tumble. Fortunately, my injuries were minor, only some lost skin and blood. But it shook me up a bit. We stopped long enough on the canyon floor to clean me up and eat lunch. We also dumped out all the extra water we had laboriously been carrying all morning. We dejectedly headed back down the canyon.

Once we reached the river we took another short break. Our plan was to continue hiking to Fern Glen located 3.5 miles upstream. On the following day we would then go from Fern Glen upstream to Tuckup Canyon with the intent of getting as far as Conglomerate Arch. We would be off itinerary, but this new plan wouldn’t add any days to the trip, so we had enough food.

However, it was already 3:30 when we left Stairway beach and I was skeptical we could make it to Fern Glen before dark. I was remembering our failed attempt to hike downstream along the river where it took an hour to go less than a mile. On the boat ride I had scanned the route along the river and didn’t remember seeing anywhere we could camp in case we were unable to get that far. But John was determined. He had spent his time in the boat engrossed in conversation and was oblivious to the terrain along the shore.

We had not gotten very far before he tripped and whacked his shin on a sharp rock causing a deep cut. It was extremely painful and bled quite a bit. We had trouble getting the bleeding to stop. At that point I put my foot down and was then able to convince him to return to the beach at the mouth of Stairway. Once there, I set up the tent, and he went inside to lie down and elevate his leg. That and a compression dressing finally stopped the bleeding.

The next morning our plan was to cover the seven miles to Tuckup beach. This would add a day to our trip, so we cut back on food. It was slow going up the river. We tried to avoid the brush by staying higher on the slope against the wall, but it wasn’t always possible and we would be forced to drop back down into the brush.

We did get a brief reprieve when we encountered these wonderful ledges which enabled us to make good progress.

But they didn’t last long and we were back to picking our way through the steep, loose rock …

… or the dense vegetation. We found walking through the immature willows to be easy and pushing our way through thick tamarisk doable if it wasn’t too mature. When it was more treelike, we could sometimes step over the thick branches and other times stoop (or crawl) under them to get past it. However, there were times when it was impenetrable and we had to find another way through.

By far the worst vegetation was the mesquite. This shrubby tree has thorns, many thorns. We quickly learned it was inevitable we would get scratched. We kept our zip-off pants legs on despite the heat. A long-sleeved shirt of some tightly woven fabric and leather gloves would have helped but neither of us had them. I resigned myself to pain and blood loss but found that sometimes the mesquite was so thick that it severely impeded forward progress, or we simply couldn’t penetrate it. The thorns grabbed at my pants, my arms, my hair and even my face.

We worked hard at maintaining a positive attitude, but I was growing concerned about our slow progress. When we got low on water, I was dismayed by the fact that, even though we were quite close to the river, we couldn’t get down to it safely. Oftentimes there was too much of a drop-off to allow a person to reach down far enough to fill a bottle (assuming one could penetrate the vegetation).

Finally, Fern Glen came into view, and we saw that there was a raft group camping there. It had taken 5.5 hours to go 3.5 miles. We were afraid they would pack up and push off before we got there. But they didn’t.

We were hot, tired, hungry and dehydrated when we arrived at their camp. We must have looked terrible with our assorted large bandages and scratched-up arms and faces. We explained our predicament and they fed us lunch – a summer sausage and cheese wrap along with some fresh carrots and even fruit! It was heavenly!

We concluded it was unreasonable to try to go another 3.5 miles to Tuckup that day, so we decided to camp at Fern Glen that night. We had now added two days to our trip and would be really low on food now. We have heard many stories of the generosity of rafters to backpackers including offers of beer and ice cream. However, this was a private group. Their leader was nervous about them running out of food, so donations were meager, basically their leftovers. We willingly took what they offered and were sufficiently appreciative.

But we had another problem. As we would be in such a remote area of the park, John’s sister had been instructed to make an overdue backpacker call to park rangers if she didn’t hear from us by 5:00 p.m. on Tuesday. We had originally planned to be out on Monday and had allowed for an extra day in case we were delayed. At this point in time, we estimated the earliest we could get out would be early Wednesday afternoon. Therefore, we gave the raft trip leader a message to convey to her as soon as he got somewhere that his satellite phone would work. We thanked the group and parted ways. We then headed to the far end of the beach and, while I set up camp, John and his camera went to explore Fern Glen Canyon.

We left Fern Glen early the next morning and it took most of the day to get back to the beach at Tuckup Canyon. We still encountered the frustrating brush. We allowed ourselves to take breaks as we had less time pressure that day.

We tried to stay higher on the loose talus slope and occasionally encountered an obvious track that skirted the canyon wall. But there wasn’t enough to enable us to make good time.

Once we finally made it to the beach at Tuckup Canyon we were surprised to not find any rafters. There had been two groups when we were there before. We had been hoping to bum a little more food (or even a full meal) from them. We did our best to be content with splitting a single serving of Ramen Noodles for supper.

We started up the canyon early the next morning. I had been remembering some of the obstacles we had encountered on the way down Tuckup.

But I decided to be optimistic and allow myself to enjoy this canyon in a way I had not on the way down when I had been anxious about the big down climb. I didn’t even notice the spot when we walked right by it.

Before long we reached the spot where we had to climb up the conglomerate rock. I found the climb up this to be easier than I had anticipated and felt a bit silly with the rope tied around me.

When we encountered this chute again, John was able to get back up but with a fair amount of effort. I, on the other hand, had trouble making upward progress. I just couldn’t get my boots to grip the polished rock. I then remembered the hole on the other side of the canyon where I had seen one of the rafters come out. So, I checked it out. There was a steep wall covered with sand, which indicated it was a commonly used route. However, with all the sand on the rock I was skeptical I could get enough traction. But my first step felt surprisingly secure so I quickly scrambled up it before I could lose traction. Once in the boulder jam above, I worked my way through the hole between the boulders.

We again got to enjoy the sight of Conglomerate Arch (and I still felt no desire to get on top of it).

We continued and I was really looking forward to reaching Cottonwood Canyon where we planned to camp that night. But first we had to get by an obstacle that I had conveniently forgotten about: the chockstone that I said, “I would never be able to get back up.” To make a long story short – John was able to chimney up the right side, but I wasn’t. Even with John giving me a boost, I just couldn’t get started. I ended up climbing up the left side of the rock. John used the rope to create a foothold, so I was able to get higher up in the crack. Then I was able to get my arms around the orange C-shaped rock and work my knees up the boulder (leaving a bit of skin behind).

I was relieved to finally reach Cottonwood Canyon. It was quite windy that evening and we had to be creative about anchoring our tent. Once again, we were serenaded by a multitude of frog voices, but I welcomed it. Ever since we had made the decision to turn back, I had fantasized about this moment when the hardest parts of the hike were behind us. I expected to feel euphoric but instead all I felt was tired. We split our single serving of instant mashed potatoes and went to sleep.

The next morning, we started our hike out. We could not be certain that John’s sister had gotten the message that we were delayed. We were concerned that at any moment we would hear a search-and-rescue helicopter. We would later learn that after three attempts, a satellite phone call did get through to her.

Fortunately, the temperature remained cool and there were some clouds. In addition, the canyon walls provided some shade. We again encountered some boulder jams and had some route-finding issues, but we eventually got past all that and the walking was quite easy.

I was so happy to finally be back on an established trail!

We knew we were getting close to the trailhead as we were running out of topography.

I was keeping my head down watching my feet on the rocky trail, but when John said he could see our Jeep I quickly looked up. Once I got a glimpse of it through the trees, I did something I have never done before when returning from a backpack trip: I started crying.

Accepting defeat was hard for me. I could not think of any other backpack trip where we had turned back because we couldn’t find our way. In hindsight, the Tuckup/Stairway Loop was simply more than we should have attempted at that point in time. We learned a lot, but the canyon can be a harsh instructor.

All photos from this trip are on Flickr.