Ticaboo Creek, May 2024

[Gretchen Millward]

Hi folks, this report is for my solo trip to Ticaboo Creek via the South Fork trailhead, May 23–27, 2024. It was indeed a bit late in the season, but I got lucky and temperatures were reasonable; highs in the upper 80s. A week later the forecast highs were well over 100.

Photography this time was my phone, because it was easy. I already had the phone on for maps (CalTopo), also a first. I think it turned out okay and I plan to lean in on this for the time being because it’s just so much easier than a separate camera.

It was a five-day trip and I’ll do each day in a separate post in this thread.

However, I’ll start with something that I want to be location-vague about. I came across a large mudstone (?) inclusion in one of the sandstones, which in itself was very cool, but while crossing the area, I looked down and at my feet was something that sure as hell looked like the cast of a dinosaur track! The rock was the right age, but I didn’t see other fossils anywhere in that layer. It could 100% be just a coincidentally shaped rock.


“Dino track” side A.


“Dino track” side B.


Some of the surrounding rocks.


More surrounding rocks.

 

[Gretchen Millward]

Day 1​

I had stayed overnight at Recapture Lodge in Bluff and got up bright and early at ... we’ll just skip that part.


Weigh-in on the Recapture patio. Note units — kilograms.


Part of the problem might be that I brought four (4) books.

It took just under four hours to drive from Bluff to the trailhead, including 45 minutes on a pretty rough dirt road. There were lots of roads not on the map and it would have been rough (ha!) without my GPS. It’s a windswept, not particularly pleasant trailhead.

On-trail finally at 1345. The plan was to hike downstream to what Kelsey calls Wall Spring just after the confluence with North Fork, or perhaps the mouth of Peshliki Fork a little further.


No views at the trailhead either. Mt Ellsworth.


Me looking prepared, or something. Mt Holmes in the background.

The trail is somewhat easy to follow down to the South Fork Ticaboo wash. It is not in good shape though. If you get off-trail, there are lots of cairns to choose from.


Looking up-canyon from where the trail meets the wash.

While looking for a late lunch spot, there was a sudden explosion of flapping bird wings. I thought quickly, realized it was a mama quail trying to distract me, and turned around just in time to see a couple of chicks scurry under the brush.


Somewhere in the South Fork of Ticaboo Creek.


One of several short, crack-style side canyons. I understand these get rather spectacular upstream from the access trail.


Desert varnish on river left.


One of several dry meadows as the wash enters the Kayenta.


Entering the Wingate Sandstone.

While it was only a three-hour hike to camp, and my pack wasn’t that unreasonable, it was remarkably difficult. I couldn’t figure out why other than I must be less fit than usual. It’s also plausible I was a bit dehydrated — it was in the 80s but not super hot.

I’d planned to check out both Wall Spring and Peshliki before selecting a campsite, but skipped the latter and found some nice cottonwoods in front of an alcove near Wall Spring. “Bat Camp” had running water, afternoon shade by 1700, and morning shade until 1000. (I later saw no good campsites near Peshliki, so that would have been a waste of effort anyway.)


First item of business once in camp was to recline for an extended period.


Looking upstream from my kitchen area.

Dinner was macaroni and cheese, which was both easy and delicious.


Sunset on Day 1.

Two remarkable events happened before I turned in.

First, I learned that I should call it Bat Camp because the place was absolutely swarming with bats. I even had one fly between me and my food.

Second, there were also lots of curious toads around. One even hopped up right next to me and let me pet her. (I’m pretty sure it was a her because later in the trip there was some toad humping and the ones with those markings were on the bottom.)

 

[Rockskipper]

These trip reports, well, all I can say is I wish you'd find some decent scenery once in awhile. And where's the rest of the illustrious group?

 

[gnwatts]

Nice shots.

 

[canadug]

Looks like a real awful place and by the sounds of it an equally awful journey.

 

[Gretchen Millward]

all I can say is I wish you'd find some decent scenery once in awhile.

Yeah me too.

And where's the rest of the illustrious group?

They had better things to do!

 

[Rockskipper]

You need to get out of that dang God-forsaken desert. Ever been to Miami Beach or maybe even Myrtle Beach? Think of all the people you could meet on a five-day trip! You wouldn't have to sit around reading boring books and taking photos of your knees.

 

[Rockskipper]

Anxiously awaiting the rest of your TR (and not just so I can make sarcastic comments)...

 

[Gretchen Millward]

Day 2​

The goal today was to (1) visit the pool at the foot of Peshliki Fork and (2) reverse the up-and-over traverse between North and Peshliki Forks described by Bill Priedhorsky in 2009, and possibly (3) visit the spring a few miles up Ticaboo’s North Fork.

(Geography note: Ticaboo has four named forks and quite a few unnamed ones. The North, Middle, and South Forks drain from Mount Ellsworth on the west side of the system. The Peshliki Fork drains a mesa to the north.)


Morning sun on the cottonwoods outside camp.

I was awake at 0700 and out of the tent promptly at 0800. Camp departure was 1030.


This large-ish lizard was a daily visitor each morning as soon as this log became illuminated.


Large spring not far below camp. This may be what Kelsey calls “Wall Spring”. It’s a few feet below the high water mark.


Sacred Datura flower.

Lake Powell’s high water mark at 3,700 feet elevation is subtle. There are a few benches with dead tamerisk and occasional clam shells, but those are the only unpleasant parts of the area. Other than that, it looks like a normal canyon now.


Indian Paintbrush, possibly?


Peshliki pool. While other trip reports show this large pool as quite pleasant (e.g. the 2009 Priedhorsky report), when I visited, the shore was heavily overgrown with essentially no beach or other hangout places near the water. There was also a fair amount of leaves and other crud floating on the surface.

The fall above Peshliki pool can be bypassed via the scree slope on river right, and possibly also the Wingate slickrock slope on river left.


Dry Peshliki Fork above the first fall.


Minor second fall.


Taking a break under the second fall. I’ve discover that my frame pack works plenty well as a day pack, saving an item to bring.


Large third fall a couple of miles up Peshliki, at the top of the Wingate. I didn’t find any name for it, so I’ll refer to it as “Never Falls”.


Lip of Never Falls from below.


Never Falls is bypassed on river left by ascending the rubble of a huge fault. This photo is looking down the slope from partway up, with the fault continuing on the other side of the canyon.


I decided to attempt crossing over to North Fork a little south of where Priedhorsky had, by continuing to follow the fault.


Mt Ellsworth from the ridge summit between Peshliki and North Forks, which I called “Mt Gonna”.

Descent into the side canyon leading to North Fork was a little complicated, but not a problem. From near the mouth of the side canyon, I cut across a bench and headed upstream a little bit to “College Spring”, where Kelsey describes meeting a group of college students in spring 2001 (?). There’s quite a good flow in the area, and a large, well-established but very sunny campsite.


Prickly pear blossom near College Camp. I only ever saw these in the afternoon, so maybe they are single-day afternoon flowers?


Part of College Spring. It was undercut enough to have the earthy, damp smell of a cave.


Filling my water bottles at College Spring. It took 14 seconds for one bottle, i.e. about 4 liters per minute flow rate.


More bad scenery at College Spring.


Dead junipers captured well the mood of the long, hot hike downstream back to camp.


One of the white flowers ubiquitous in camp.

Arrival back in camp was 1730, i.e. a 7-hour hike including the generous breaks. Dinner was my famous enchiladas. Good day, but tiring.

 

[Gretchen Millward]

Anxiously awaiting the rest of your TR

don’t encourage me

 

[Rockskipper]

One of the white flowers ubiquitous in camp.

Looks like evening primrose to me.

My new nickname for Mt. Ellsworth is Not Gonna (too many rattlers). The photo of the sun on the cottonwoods looks like some kind of spring flowering tree, like a white crabapple or something. Really beautiful. That next to last photo of the tree is very evocative. If I were in a place like that you'd have to drag me out with a rope.

 

[SteveR]

I like how the B and W makes one look at the details more closely.

 

[Gretchen Millward]

Folks, thanks for your patience with my posting schedule.

---

Day 3​

Today I woke somewhat earlier but then fell asleep again and was out of the tent at 0830. The goal was to have a lighter exploration/hiking day.


Morning in America (well, a very specific part of it).


Morning in America (a slightly different very specific part of it).


My throne.

Recall that my “Bat Camp” was approximately at the high water mark. I departed camp at 1015, the goal being to go downstream until I got to Lake Powell, to see what was up with that, and also check out the rincon (i.e., abandoned meander) that I’d named “Rincon de Givé”.


Flowing water downstream of camp, in the “Wall Spring” area.

OK this is way cool. Wall Spring had several vents that emerged directly into the water, creating these sandy bubblers.


This cascade is where Ticaboo enters the Chinle Formation, immediately above Rincon de Givé. It’s a pleasant spot with a small overhang for shade. Lake Powell high water is 3,700 feet, so this is potentially quite a ways under water. However, when I was there, I saw little evidence in the immediate area of lake damage.


Cottonwood killed by rising waters of the lake a few decades ago.


Sea of tumbleweeds behind the rincon.


On the ascent of Rincon de Givé were many seashells and a few dinosaur fossils. I brought my children home a few shells and they were very confused about how I’d acquired them in the desert.


Looking downstream from atop Givé. Starting here, there was heavy evidence that the lake had recently departed.


The cascade and pool from the same viewpoint. The same patch of bushes on the right here is on the left in the previous photo.

Departing Rincon de Givé to continue downstream, I decided to wade through the chest-high tumbleweed field on the backside. This was a mistake.


Not long after, the mud flats proper began, and there was the “lake” and my turn-around point. According to USGS, Lake Powell was at 3,567½ feet on May 25 around noon.

I wondered why natural lakes tend to have pleasant shores, while Lake Powell (and other reservoirs) have nasty mud flats. I’m guessing it’s the volatile water level?

I stopped for lunch on the way back at the cascade.


Rincon de Givé from the cascade.


The cascade emptying into its pool.


This lizard was not hiding nearly as well as they thought they were.

After a brief pause at Bat Camp, I continued upstream to check out the source of “Ledge Spring”, which from creek level is a multi-stage waterfall originating at location(s) unknown. Ledge Spring is approximately 1 mile upstream from Bat Camp.


Ledge Spring coming off the lip of the second of (it turns out) three distinct fall stages.

The “source” of Ledge Spring is a large, overgrown bowl below the Navajo-Kayenta boundary containing numerous types of plants, only one of which I was able to identify (Toxicodendron rydbergii). I was hoping to find water spectacularly gushing out of the rock, Cheyava Falls style, but failed to do so. Either it does not exist or is concealed within the plant growth.


Highest running water I found was in a dirt trench two or three feet deep under these ferns.


Bad view downstream from Ledge Spring source area.

I’d been planning to hang out and read for a while on one of the spring ledges. However, I happened to glance at the sky to discovering it was overcast and very dark, focused on the Henrys. I very much did not want to be stuck away from camp due to flash flooding, or worse overrun in a narrow spot. I made remarkably good time back to camp, arriving about 1815.


Bat Camp. One-person campsites are sure subtle.


Dinner was frito pie, and I didn’t even get more than a few drops of rain.


Dry cottonwood leaf in camp.

Aside from the brief possible flash flooding drama, a good day.

 

[Bob]

Over 50lb pack...crazy

 

[Rockskipper]

Thanks for the post. I was beginning to feel a bit stranded and about to run out of food. Please post the rest soon as I need to get back to work, though I am enjoying being out there, for sure. I will admit the thought of flash flooding had me worried for awhile, and I have finished three of the four books. Your photos make me feel like I’m out there to the point I can’t tell what’s real anymore.

 

[Gretchen Millward]

Over 50lb pack...crazy

Not disagreeing sir.

 

[Gretchen Millward]

Folks,

Good morning and welcome to the first day of the rest of your lives.

---

Day 4​

Today the plan was to find a route from the south to the top of “Mount You”, a high point climbed by Priedhorsky from the north in 2009. It turned out to be the best day of the trip, which is a nice-to-have for the last day.

I must have been sleeping enough because I was out of the tent at 0730. I countered this by having an overly elaborate breakfast of hash browns with eggs and bacon (dried and pre-cooked, respectively) and was on trail by 0945.

Spoiler alert: I’m really proud of the route I put together and kind of amazed that it went.


Let’s begin the day with a cool stump.


Ticaboo South Fork wash, approaching the turn-off point I’d selected.

I ascended the south side (river right) a little bit to plan out a route where based on the map I thought it might go. The main challenge was, I thought, getting into the Navajo, since the bottom of this layer tended to form a pretty consistent cliff.


Start of route. This is facing north (river left). The route zig-zags up through the Kayenta in the foreground. I believe I expected to get into the Navajo somewhere left of the prominent middle-ground knob. The planned route isn’t visible in the photo, but I must have gone a little higher up to see it.

However, once I got to the top of the main Kayenta bench, I found myself at the bottom of a substantial cliff that wasn’t visible from below. Also the route into the Navajo was now looking pretty unlikely. I couldn’t think of anything better to do, so I traversed left (upstream). Eventually I came to a slide and followed that to the top of the Kayenta obstacle and contact with the Navajo. (Of course, the route from where I turned upward again back down to the wash was much easier than how I’d ascended.)

The next nearest possibilities into the Navajo looked quite a ways off and overland through a rough side canyon (it was around ½ mile according to the map), so I went back downstream to see the original idea, but without much hope. A little way along I came to a wash with a wide bay that cliffed out with a biggish drop. It did have a good view of the route I thought I’d seen from below. Indeed, this “route” was a fifty-foot overhanging cliff. Well, it happens. I wandered toward the end of the flat to get a view before backtracking.

But ... the flat did not terminate in a drop but rather a wide ledge leading into the next bay!! I called it “Holy F— It Goes Traverse”.

This second bay had two washes crossing a flat area before cliffing out (for real this time) in a third wash / waterfall that comprised the “route” I thought I saw earlier. The first wash was ... close. I might be able to pile up some large rocks to get a couple extra feet, maybe sufficient height to scramble up and hopefully follow it higher and through the Navajo knobs above. (The steepest part of the whole layer was consistently the last few feet.) It was promising enough that I almost got to work, but figured I ought to at least check out the second lobe first. This required traversing a safe but unnervingly exposed ledge into a beautiful little alcove. It even had an arch!! I sat down for a snack in this fine spot. And while I was snacking ... wait a minute ... did I see route over that arch? Then safely to the slope above? I did!!! It went! Class 3, reasonable exposure, no problem. I called it “Holy F— It Goes Arch”.


Holy F— It Goes Arch. The route starts on the wide flat ledge, then to the crest of the arch, then towards the camera along the ledge with a small bush on it and a dramatic step-over.


Looking downward at the step-over. This turned out to be the crux of the route in terms of drama, though in terms of difficulty the challenge more likely its general complexity.


A relatively straightforward ramp-walk brought me to this pass and the flat(tish) valley beyond. Mount You is the speck atop a broad Navajo dome on the right side of the horizon. I believe the left horizon is Mt Ellsworth (not Holmes). The plateau under the clouds is Mount Up, a secondary objective for the day.

Once into the valley, it looked as if the best route was the ramps to Mount Up directly ahead, and that was more or less the only way to approach either high point, so that’s the way I went. Little did I know that the flat valley in fact contained a large side canyon.


Somehow this plant found a few shreds of water inside its cliff.

Heading the side canyon would be a long way to the Mt Up ramps, and it turned out I could instead almost fully reverse my direction to the right, around a large knob and into the next wash. The map wasn’t much help in the extremely complex terrain. I was very grateful for my GPS to help backtrack later.

A second reversal back to the left into a third wash was the key to the next layer, which I in turn ascended winding back and forth through the slickrock with a few minor climbs here and there. The last real obstacle was a bulbous ledge that I called “Traverse of the Self-Important Minor Teenage Gods”.


A close Mount You summit block, from where it became clear that the route really went all the way.

The summit is a block of red sandstone in the middle of a large Navajo plateau. I was beat. I found a likely route up the last few few feet to the summit, but before ascending, lunchtime, on an uncomfortable ledge with lots of pointy inclusions, but the views! I mean, they were boring and sucked, but wow.


Mt Holmes from my lunch spot.

After lunch, it was time for the actual summit.


Ascending the summit block.


Mt You summit, elevation U,159 feet.


Looking northeast over North (closer) and Peshliki (further) Forks. I saw so many places left to explore.


Mt Ellsworth and Mt You (plateau of caprock hiding in the middle ground) from my turn-around point a hundred yards or so beyond the Mt Up summit. I’d sure wanted to see both high points, but it was just too far and something like 2:00pm, time to go home.


Ticaboo South Fork and its impressive fault system, beyond my ascent route.


Mt You.


Passing Mt You on my way across the plateau to begin my descent.

I retraced my steps without incident, though I did become a little disoriented about how far along its ramp the top of Holy F— It Goes Arch was. It was a long, hot walk down (and I was really glad it was downhill).


Cool rocks somewhere along the descent.


Looking back from the creek bed. Mt You is the speck on the Navajo horizon.

Fortunately this was a section of South Fork with running water and shade. I hung out on a rock for nearly an hour reading my book and snacking before commencing the mile-and-a-half or so slog back to camp.


Some kind of wildflower on the way back.


A bush very close to camp. I wrote down what it was, but I’m feeling too lazy to go find my notes. Sorry folks.

Arrival in camp was 1830, for a nearly nine-hour hike including breaks, some quite generous. Supper was enchiladas again. I considered just having enchiladas every night next time.

 

[SteveR]

Fine storytelling, with the photos being the icing on the cake!

 

[Gretchen Millward]

Folks, let’s wrap.

---

Day 5​

Today’s goal was apparently to maximize the number of selfies. Seriously, this is just a small selection.

My alarm went off at 0520 and I was out of the tent at 0545, then underway at 0800.

Highlight of the hike was a large flock of what I think were half a dozen quail skittering through the bushes and up the slickrock.


Somewhere in South Fork.


Looking up-canyon from the bottom of the ascent trail, which is 550 feet vertical (according to CalTopo) and pretty steep, making for a banger slay queen fanum tax conclusion. I understand there are some cool slots further upstream, which I’d like to visit when I have more time.


I took a more polished selfie upon arrival at the car too, but this one is more representative.

That’s all folks! I hope you enjoyed my trip report.

 

[Rockskipper]

Those selfies are SO representative of hiking where the scenery is so disappointing. Better luck next time (make it soon).