Pushing my edge in the Grand Canyon
A trip report from the Thunder River — Deer Creek loop
The Thunder River — Deer Creek loop trail in the Grand Canyon is a lollipop loop that begins by descending from the North Rim and features creeks, waterfalls, and a wide variety of terrain, from dry, hot desert valleys, to lush creeks and waterfalls.
The various trip reports I read before going tended to describe this trail as “sketchy,” and, as I learned on the trail, that word does a lot of work describing a broad variety of terrain.
Because there were so many surprises along this trail, my goal with this post is to get more specific about what to expect on the trail, and what worked (and didn’t) for us.
Some context
Our trip dates were May 18–22, 2021. We had a permit for five nights and ended up doing it in four.
My friend Kristina and I are moderately experienced backpackers and were definitely the noobs on this trail. Every other backpacker we met was either very experienced, to the tune of 30 years backpacking, or was with a guide. We didn’t meet a single solo backpacker. We were the only all-women group out there.
It’s true what they say: going up is the easy part. I credit the ascents being easy, and my joints managing all the steep descents, to my training plan, which had me feeling strong and capable throughout this trip.
What follows is the blow-by-blow trip report; if you’re planning your own trip, you may want to also read:
- The training plan that carried me into and out of the canyon with ease, despite living in a basically flat part of the country (still high on this success!)
- Water cache & carry plan
- Why I went stoveless, and my five-day menu that I didn’t hate and sometimes even loved
- Food storage plan
- Gear & packing list
- Here’s my LighterPack list. (Green stars: MVPs of this trip. Yellow stars: brought too much. Red stars: should have left at home.)
Phew. Now onto the actual trip report!
Day 0: camping at the Bill Hall trailhead
We flew into Vegas, rented a pickup, and drove out to the North Rim. The Forest Service roads were in decent condition; just some washboarding at the start and a few mud holes closer to the canyon.
There are ample campsites right alongside the forest service road with epic views of the canyon.
We got ourselves organized, filled up our bladders for water cacheing, and tucked in for an early bedtime.
Day 1: Bill Hall to Upper Tapeats
When in doubt, descend.
We got up early, parked at the trailhead, and grunted into our packs (starting weight: 60 lbs!) More on the decision to add a front-pack is here, and my full LighterPack list is here.)
The people who took this picture had started down Bill Hall, then turned around because they couldn’t handle the exposure, so our literal first interaction on the trail was a warning.
Side note: I went into this trip associating the word exposure with lack of shade. Dear reader, that is wrong. It refers to likelihood of falling off cliffs.
The descent from Bill Hall is indeed tricky, with loose rock, big steps down, and some exposure, though it was within my comfort level. We started early in the morning and I was grateful for fresh legs and shade, especially with all that unwieldy extra water weight in my front pack.
The one scramble that other trip reports mention does indeed have plenty of handholds and is not exposed. With a rope to lower packs, it’s completely doable and not at all scary.
At the Bill Hall trail junction we dropped two liters of water cache, did a little happy dance, and started cruising across the Esplanade.
After the Bill Hall descent, the Esplanade is easy. As long as you pay attention to the cairns, wayfinding is relatively straightforward.
About a mile later, we dropped another four liters of water, and marked the location on our GPS.
The descent into Surprise Valley is steep and tough on your joints — lots of loose rock, tight switchbacks, and huge steps down. As a person who is generally pole-skeptical, I was profoundly grateful for mine on this descent.
The reward for all that banging on your knees is Surprise Valley, and the only surprises on offer were just how hot and dry it is. We arrived in the valley by 2pm, eager for a break and some shade, but there is zero, and I mean zero, shade between the red wall and Thunder River.
We were supposed to camp in Surprise Valley for the first night but decided to press on since we were running low on water and didn’t feel safe hanging out in the sun all day.
Onward, downward.
The descent to Thunder River is … wait for it… steep and tricky!
It was pretty rough going after a full day of descending, but we just kept moving, and kept an eye out for the first wet, shady camping we could find.
Thunder River is just as surprising and awe-inspiring as everyone says. We didn’t get too close because there was a big group hanging out right at the spot where it gushes out of the cliff, and we were in no shape to socialize, but we did stop to ice our feet in the river before finally making it to Upper Tapeats. We nabbed a campsite by the creek and relaxed waterside after a very long day.
We’d only covered 6.5 miles but it took us ~9 hours and we were BEAT.
Wet camping at Upper Tapeats was delightful and so worth it.
We rinsed out our clothes, plunged in the river, iced our feet, and chatted with a friendly couple from Alaska who in all seriousness suggested we visit specifically to get close to the grizzlies while they’re salmon fishing.
I’d rather watch that on TV, thankyouverymuch.
Day 2: Upper Tapeats to Lower Tapeats
Eat a Swedish fish for courage.
We thought this would be an easy day but the Grand Canyon knows no easy days.
We’d read a slew of trip reports debating the east vs west routes from Upper to Lower Tapeats and ended up following the most common instructions:
- Just south of Upper Tapeats campsite, we crossed the river to the east side The east side of the creek is a treat for tired legs and hungry eyes, with rolling hills, beautiful scenery, and a nice smooth trail.
- We then crossed the creek again, back to the west side, at the large cairns. From there the trail begins ascending over the creek.
It’s a gradual ascent and it’s fairly exposed at times, but felt manageable— until we found ourselves going around the nose of a cliff high above the Colorado.
I was feeling pretty confused at this point: why were we hundreds of feet above the river, when we were supposed to be camping on its shores? Why were we going around the nose to the west, away from the campsite?
But I couldn’t think straight about how this might not be the right trail, since it was the scariest shit I’ve ever done. It was a two-boot, scree-covered “trail” on the edge of a cliff, with really slippery, unstable footing, and zero margin for error. Any misstep would send you tumbling 700 feet down, with nothing to break your fall.
I tried to ward off the fear first with mantras “You got this! Don’t die!” You will NOT fall off a cliff today” and then with singing, but I found that even those kinds of voices in my head were too distracting. I needed all of my mental energy to focus on foot placement and not dying.
And then Kristina suggested we pull out the GPS, and she bravely took her eyes off her feet to look at her phone.
That “trail” was a dead end.
I stuffed a Swedish fish in my mouth for courage and turned around.
Coming back, still alive, we found the turnoff that we’d missed, which didn’t look like a trail at all. It was a rockslide down a cliff rebranded as switchbacks. There’s no clear trail marker to descend rather than press on, and the dead end we’d followed looks more like a trail than the descent does.
I wanted to mark the trail but felt way too unsafe to stop and arrange rocks, so I just descended (sorry 😐 )
Maybe this descent was the the most brutal thing I’ve ever done, or maybe I was just hopped up on nerves after backtracking that cliff edge. Whatever the reason, I elected to slide down most of it on my butt, crab-walking from one loose boulder to the next. Poles, again, saved me.
Lessons learned: check your GPS often. Don’t go around any cliff noses trying to get to Lower Tapeats. Or maybe never go around cliff noses.
When we got down to river level, I relief-plunged right into the Colorado, fully dressed.
We quickly discovered that Upper Tapeats boasts all sorts of sun exposure. There’s exactly one shade tree, on the east side of the creek at the confluence with the Colorado River. Since we arrived so early in the day, we stationed ourselves under that tree and swam in the Colorado.
Then the wind picked up so we just pitched our tent under that tree (right in the middle of the trail, sorry not sorry) and spent the afternoon hiding from the sandstorm and processing our near-cliff-plunge experience.
In that moment I was grateful we’d brought the rain fly—we still ended up with tons of sand in the tent, but it could have been a lot, lot worse.
Day 3: Upper Tapeats to Deer Creek
Trace fossils & swimming holes
This is another section for which trip reports indicate either a lower or upper route. We’d asked everyone we met what they recommended, got all sorts of conflicting advice, and ended up selecting the upper route because we were told it had less exposure—and we’d had plenty of exposure on Day 2, thanks. ✌️
The route from Upper Tapeats starts out with boulder hopping along the Colorado, and then a quick ascent up a big rock jutting into the river. The descent over the top of that rock is the “sketchy” pack lowering section described elsewhere, and this section, more than anywhere else on the trail, is indeed sketchy. It’s loose dirt and rocks, with just a couple of poorly placed tree roots for handholds. I took my pack off and created a few mini landslides sliding down the first part. (More time on my butt, whee!)
The second section has more handholds, but it’s all loose and very slippery. We lowered our packs on a rope—and by that I mean Kristina went into beast mode and managed to lower our packs without sliding off the cliff herself, and I “caught” them while dodging rocks from the resulting landslide.
Once that obstacle was overcome, the upper trail was relatively easy, with some ascending up over the river but nothing terribly exposed. I don’t know what the lower one is like, but I’d happily do the upper again.
We arrived at Deer Creek and splashed right in. It was the best reward for tired joints and minds. This place is truly special, with waterfalls and beautiful clear pools in between carved rock.
We met some geologists who showed us trace fossils and some rafters who took our trash and shared beer with us, then we lounged on the patio, washed our clothes, and soaked up the rewards.
Eventually we descended to Deer Creek Falls. The short stretches of exposure along the narrows are quick and not terribly frightening—though on the heels of our hairy cliff experience, they felt extra nerve-racking. Watching so many casual rafters get through the narrows unscathed definitely helped reset our perspectives.
I definitely recommend wearing real shoes, not water shoes, for the descent to the waterfall, and paying attention to the route. It’s not well marked, probably because rafting groups are always following a guide. When we ascended later we got off track a couple of times.
The waterfall is well worth the quick descent and a perfect swimming spot.
The campsites are upriver a little ways from the patio and the narrows, with plenty of shade and creek access.
We donated our beers to another group, knowing we had a hard day ahead of us (and honestly, warm Miller Lite wasn’t particularly appealing…) and popped some Benadryl so we could sleep well and get an early start in the morning.
Day 4: Deer Creek to Esplanade
We were fully prepared for this to be a tough day. We started with 6 liters of water so we’d have plenty to make it up to our cache at the Esplanade, and started at sunrise to try to make it through Surprise Valley before it got too hot.
The ascent to Surprise Valley was harder than expected; we later learned that there had been a big rockslide some years back, and that the trail descriptions had not been updated. So the first part of the ascent was a lot of boulder scrambling with heavy packs.
We got lucky with cooler than average temperatures, and it was really windy (big thanks to the cactus that saved my hat and sunglasses from going over a cliff’s edge).
Going up the red wall out of Surprise Valley was way easier than going down it.
Thanks to more Swedish fish (for pep in my step, not courage, this time) those two thousand feet passed easily. With occasional breaks to catch our breath and brace ourselves against gusts of wind, the ascent felt … anticlimactic. (All credit goes here).
At the top, I felt energized and empowered—like I could have finished the climb out— but we decided to stay in the Esplanade as planned.
After scouting a campsite, finding our water cache and schlepping it back, the fatigue of the last few days settled in, so we had a lovely, relaxing, siesta-style afternoon.
Pro tip: I wish we had scouted our campsite on the way down, and cached your water near there. I could have done without the extra schlepping after all that climbing.
Compared to the heat of the canyon, the Esplanade was quite brisk, with a roaring wind, so I finally used the base layers I’d packed. That night was actually cold, and I was grateful for my sleeping bag.
Day 5: Esplanade to Bill Hall
We celebrated our last day with breakfast tacos (my only stove use this trip), then started climbing.
This ascent was harder than coming out of Surprise Valley, mostly because of altitude. Frequent breath and Swedish fish breaks were a winning strategy.
We laughed at ourselves from just four days ago, for thinking this trail and the one scramble was tricky; both seemed so straightforward and friendly compared to some of the terrain we’d covered lower in the canyon.
Overall, it was an perspective altering, empowering experience. Not for those afraid of heights, and I personally wouldn’t want to do it alone, because of some tricky way finding and pack-lowering, but it was a trip that pushed my edge and expanded my perspectives in ways that I’m sure I’ll appreciate for years to come.
More on backpacking the Grand Canyon:
- The training plan that carried me into and out of the canyon with ease, despite living in a basically flat part of the country (still high on this success!)
- Gear & packing list
- Water cacheing and carrying
- How we handled food storage
- Why I went stoveless, and my five-day menu that I didn’t hate and sometimes even loved
- Here’s my LighterPack list. (Green stars: MVPs of this trip. Yellow stars: brought too much. Red stars: should have left at home.)
