This past weekend the Alliance hosted the first, probably not annual, Dark Canyon Triple Threat Triathlon (we really need to figure out shorter names for these things). As you can see from the above photos, this wasn’t your typical aero helmet wearing, sippy cup using triathlon. No, the DCTTT consisted of a 20 mile bikepack, 9 mile backpack and 18 mile paddle in a place that was almost void of other peeps.
The Plan and Prep
The plan came from a blogpost that the Planner aka Shelby Sticks saw and shared. It was the blogger’s first foray into packrafting and was an easy float. We were more interested in getting into Dark Canyon as we had discussed getting there for a couple of years. The packrafting was just a bonus as we haven’t had any chance to get a float in this year due to the complete lack of water. The original plan was to drop a car at the takeout just below Hite Crossing and drive to the trailhead. As things got closer, we lost a participant and it just seemed ridiculous to drive two cars 300 miles for a 20 mile shuttle. So we added the bike section and made it a triathlon.
The Alliance does all three of these activities on a pretty regular basis. We’ve carried our boats multiple times on our backs, but never on our bikes. This created another facet to the preparation.
Our boats by themselves weigh just over 5 pounds, not something you really want on your back when you are pedaling for 20 miles. Based on online beta, we decided to put racks on our bikes and strap them on top. This worked excellently and gave us almost too much space to pack other shit in the panniers.
We also had zero idea what the road was going to be like. Worst case scenario it would be a sand pit, but case scenario and what Google Earth suggested was a well graded, hard packed road to the trailhead. We swapped out our gravel tires to knobbies on our packing bikes and luckily, there was only one section of shallow sand that didn’t even phase us.
The Bike Segment
The biking section, as I mentioned, was not part of the initial plan but rather a way to connect the things we came to see and do. It was a necessary and turned out to be a killer ride.
Both KB and I had to stop almost immediately and adjust our packs. In regular, we’re going backpacking mode they sit high which makes them hit the back of your head when your pedaling. A few small strap adjustments and we were good.
We had eight miles of pavement the included two bridges, one over the Dirty Devil and the Hite Crossing. We will definitely be back to explore more in the DD, that canyon looked amazing. The roads were as good as our. We saw three cars in 45 minutes all of which were friendly.
We knew it was going to be a climb, but we actually had a few downhills in the mix as well and the miles clicked by quickly. And then we hit the dirt. Our thoughts and prayers had paid off. The road was in great condition, very few washboards, almost no sand and completely rideable if your Shelby. If you were the rest of us, we got off and walked that one hill.
Our goal was for a 2-2.5 hour segment, we were a little longer than that but hit the trailhead in good spirits and good shape. We still had plenty of water for the hike in and it was still fairly early. We rode down to flat spot and began the transition of moving everything from the bike into our backpacks. The typical, “Oh, Lord that’s heavy!” and “Oh, that’s not too bad, ” were heard from all of us.
We found a tree and stashed the bikes.
Bipedal Mode
This was the part that we came for. A killer hike into another fucking sandstone canyon where we hoped to be at least mostly alone. The first couple miles were straight forward with a couple of drops to keep us on our toes. And then there was the drop, 1200 feet in less than a mile.
It looks something like this.
Exposed, loose, sketchy at best, and with a loaded pack not exactly what one would call easy, but we got through it. Once in the bottom and after a few minutes in the shade, we bolted for water. After another mile or so, we happened upon Topless Girl Camp. We kept moving along passing a couple more camps before coming to a big flat bench next to a large pool of water. We found a little bit of shade and dropped our packs.
Up to this point, I hadn’t really eaten anything. Not sure why, but I also hadn’t felt hungry or fatigued. As soon as we stopped moving, it hit me hard. I had enough water to get some food cooking. Mama Bear got some water so we could filter and I didn’t really move for about a 45 minutes. At which time, I noticed that shade had begun to hit the other end of our bench. We moved all our gear over and enjoyed the pool, the local fauna and canyon shade for the rest of the day.
Our first day had got hot. Seeing we were still unsure on how long our float was going to take us (the beta we had suggest 8-10 hours), we figured an early start would be best. The sun rose and so did we, hitting the trail by 7.
We had somewhere between 3-4 miles down to the confluence with the Colorado. Typically, we could knock that out in about an hour, but this was not typical trail. We started down the water way and quickly got ledged up forcing us on to the bench above the canyon floor. The bench was narrow, loose and super exposed making for a slow go. The 4ish miles we walked took us a couple of hours, there may have even been some tears shed, but that is only hearsay.
The Float
We hit the river and were a little gitty to be back in our rafts. We had such a killer first year that not being able to float yet in 2018 has been a bit of a bummer. There is something special about moving at the pace of a river and essentially coasting through the backcountry.
We unloaded the packs, reloaded the drybags and inflated the rafts. We put in just as a couple of motorized rafts came downstream. They were to be the only people we would see all day long.
We had expected this float to take us all day and into the next. To our delight, the river was moving quickly and the wind seemed to be swirling giving us a tailwind at times, a headwind at others and then dying altogether. We made great time and clicked off half of our distance in three hours.
Everything seemed to be going our way. We even happened upon a spring spouting out of the side of the canyon wall just when we needed to refill our reservoirs. We stopped for lunch a few miles from the end just as the wind stopped completely giving us reprieve as we ate.
Almost immediately upon reentering the river, our luck changed and we were hit with an 30 MPH headwind. Strong enough to push you back upstream if you stopped paddling. The river was still pushing us in the other way and with some effort we were able to keep up a descent pace. Floating under the Hite Crossing bridge was the moment that we knew were almost done, but also had a couple more miles in the wind to paddle.
I, for one, had shoulders that felt like they were at the cusp of cramping for most of the last hour. As I said, you couldn’t rest without losing ground as you headed back upstream. We could see the takeout for what seemed like an eternity as our pace kept us just moving forward.
After a way faster than expected time of 31 hours, we stepped out of our boats onto the boat ramp and were done.
The Epilogue
This was a blast. It took me a few days to realize how much fun I had during this short trip. I was feeling a bit jaded when it was all over because we finished so quickly that I felt shorted. Looking back at the photos and contemplating our short journey, it was bitchin’!
P. L. and R.
