In the bag. Done. Finito. 27:38 car-to-car. ~16.5 hrs on the move.
I booked it out of work Friday afternoon, the permit office being only open until 5. Legal and all, I headed off on the “questionable” road. The snowmelt, and resulting mud, was not too bad. It did result in zero sidehilling traction, which 25 miles in put me sideways into a big ditch. Duh. 4 low got me out with ease, and a reminder to pay attention. At the trailhead at dusk, bivy in the open air under the stars. Slept like the dead for 11 hours. Ahhhh.
Old-growth cypto soil on the Esplanade traverse (upper Supai plateau, mostly easy walking).
Still winter, also on the Esplanade.
The drop into the upper reaches of the Royal Arch drainage was fun and easy. Quick and scenic walking.
The main Redwall narrows continued to provide outstanding entertainment. Several good drops to downclimb, a waist-deep pool to wade, and much boulder hopping. Things were ahead of schedule.
The well-cairned exit took me by surprise. With plenty of time, I grabbed the camera and headed a half-mile downcanyon to hunt for the arch itself.
It takes you by surprise.
Not an arch, but rather a natural bridge, spanning and eroded by the stream. Possibly the most interesting, especially in context, thing of it’s kind I’ve seen.
6 hours from the car to here.
The route out of the gorge wasn’t too bad, and provided excellent views, like this one back down to a point in the canyon a couple hundred yards above the arch.
Looking down the big canyon, to Colorado. The clouds did make me question the wisdom of not bringing a tent or bivy.
My confidence in my own judgment was further shaken by the absence of a fixed rope at the “20 foot rappel.” I did scavenge a rope around the pinch used as an anchor, fixed it, lowered my pack, and handlined down. My own rope was a 12′ piece of webbing, which would have been adequate absent other material, but only just.
The rap is just left of center. Quite a clever route down this cliff.
The rap itself. Could be downclimbed, but at a high standard. A good candidate for LMAR (last man at risk). The landing is uneven, but a good climber with a good spot would manage.
My goal for the day had been the river at Toltec Beach. I was set to arrive at 3 in the afternoon.
The river was flowing, hard. It’s difficult to see, but the level of the pool (where I got water) is a good 6″ below that of the river. The speed of the current prevented an equalization, and the water pulsed through the opening pictured the whole time I was there.
I’m glad I did the trip and was able to see it.
Note the conglomerate pocket. Solid as, well, a rock.
No more pictures, as business was at hand. I had more daylight, more energy, and the nagging doubt of my ability to do nine more miles before dark. I had to find the answer.
At 6:50 that evening, the answer was yes. There’s some fantastic hiking in that distance. I highly recommend it. I emptied my pack, cooking some tea and a pot of starch, and passed out.
The nine miles remaining the next morning were mental punctuation, complicated somewhat by the remaining litre of water, and lack of forthcoming water sources. I have a bitch of a dehydration headache now, a gallon of water notwithstanding. It felt fine at the time, bizarrely.
View of the South Bass, from the top of the Redwall.
My only compliant is my lack of recognition publicly as a badass. I met and gave beta to a separate groups of four on the last snowy bit above the Coconino, and when I put in subtle hints about my 26 mile day, no one fell down in astonishment. What more do I have to do? I have shaved legs and facial hair for gods sake.
A sad state of affairs.
As Jill says: Less than an hour into being done, I couldn’t believe how changed I felt. How severe the final shift, it’s still hard to say. But as I stumbled upstairs to take a shower and looked at my emaciated body in the mirror, I couldn’t help but mourn the person I had lost. I was still Jill from Juneau, but I would never be the same. I had followed the ghost trail to McGrath and in a way had become a ghost, forever in flux, forever searching for an end.
Not on the same scale, but of the same class and type. Saturday was almost without question the finest day I’ve put in on foot. And what comes to mind? The Royal Arch day hike.
Bedrock & Paradox 
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