Gunnison Gorge

Late Summer Day in the Gorge Pt. 2

August 29, 2017 by n.taylor Leave a Comment

Sunrise from Camp

We awoke around 0830 to this view from our kitchen. No one was on the river yet and we packed up and began the second half of our journey. The lower part of the canyon has significantly more technical water and rapids to navigate. At late summer flows it hardly resembles the rapids during higher water but nonetheless it can be somewhat demanding on the oarsman to make a few moves throughout the day.

We did actually do some fishing on this trip, and hoppers were on the menu, big ones. We threw the biggest stuff we had, single dry, right on the bank and had a few great takes. We didn’t break any records, (well maybe just a record for most 7″ fish in a day) but we caught a few average ones as well.

Hopper

More Hopper

The first section that most stop to give notice to is Boulder Garden, which has significantly changed over the years and in my opinion is much easier now. Even so, its worth mentioning because the campsite there is nice, and for me it marks the start of the lower part of the canyon.

Just Upstream of Boulder Garden

Boulder Garden

After this point you are met with a quick succession of rapids that demand in the very least some attention to your surroundings. Cable and Squeeze both require the oarsman to slide through some narrow slots, both on river right (as of this writing at 1000CFS).

Interspersed between these features are vertical walls of basement rocks that are approximately 1.7 billion years old. While the Geology of the area is fascinating, archeology sites along the Gunnison Gorge have yielded discoveries of petroglyphs, baskets, arrowheads, and tools, some of which are up to 14,000 years old. Point being, don’t forget to look up, you are peering back in time like you can only do in a few places on the planet.

Old Rocks

As you come to the Grand Finale rapid the canyon closes down to its tightest corridor yet, the calm waters signaling that you have made it out in on piece.

Dad Bod

The last few miles are a prototypical trout stream accentuated by endless runs and riffles before we pulled out. Fishing through here was excellent even as we began to pass those along the bank that had hiked up several miles to fish the mouth of the canyon.

Last Few Miles

All the information I have gathered and find useful for a trip can be found here.

Get some…

Late Summer Day in the Gorge

August 28, 2017 by n.taylor Leave a Comment

Welcome

It has been some years since I went down the Gunnison Gorge. In that time I feel as though I’ve matured (slightly) and am generally much more prepared to tackle logistical problems that places like the Gorge present. For instance, I’ve learned that the sun is hot on the Chukar Trail, and to leave early, so as to do your hike in the cool morning air, void of the relentless summer sun.

The Gear Going Down

My partner and I arrived at the trail, and despite the fact that we planned accordingly, we failed to take into account the cumbersome anatomy of your standard rowing frame. So while the first trip down was uneventful, the second trip proved to nearly break our spirits. In hindsight, those mules look like a heck of deal.

The Heavy Stuff

Campsites are a premium, and while you may have your pick if you’re early enough, experience is the only way to know which ones offer the best accommodations. This issue was of further importance to us as we had elected to use our hammocks once again. The Gunnison Gorge, while gorgeous isn’t exactly a thicket of pine trees, but rather a collection of small Juniper trees that can easily be mistaken for shrubbery. That being said, we picked the best option that we determined based on some Google Earth images. I get ahead of myself however, there was much that had to happen before we slept for the evening.

Someone Beat Us Down

The Put In

In an effort to curb the weight on our backs we only brought 2 beers and enough ice for cold cocktails at camp. After that hike that beer tasted so good.

Cold Smoke

Just Some Fishin’

We meandered through the upper canyon, this section is mellow in comparison to the lower half and allows for a more relaxing day of cocktails sight seeing. While the entire run is only 14 miles it is easily broken into a 2 or 3 day jaunt. Just due to the fact you have to carry your equipment down the mountain means you are investing almost half a day worth of effort to get started. Point being, don’t do it as a day trip as there is so much to see and do on the relatively short stretch down there.

Camp was pitched in the early evening, and our selection turned out to be fortuitous. Mature Juniper trees offered several hanging options, and a makeshift bench served as our table to prepare our freeze dried food selection.

Kitchen

Hammocks

Remember how we didn’t bring beer in order to save weight? Instead we put some ice in a Hydroflask to make some bourbon and cokes that evening. Best idea ever. Nothing like a cold drink after a long day in the woods.

Cocktail Hour

Sunset at Camp

Black Canyon

August 17, 2010 by n.taylor 3 Comments

River Map

To the Trail

In the morning we awoke bright and early to meet our shuttle at 7 am. Al, the 72 year old shuttle driver with bad hearing, was right on time as we pulled into the parking lot 10 minutes late. Al used to work for GE and had a career working on jet engines or something like that (he was the man). After retiring he moved from some miserable suburb of Los Angeles to Hotchkiss, Colorado so that he could hunt Elk and go fishing.

He gave us directions to the trailhead and marveled at our cavalier attitude, “You’re carrying that down?” The road to the Chukar Trail was rough and washed out, but provided us with our first view of what we were getting into. It took over an hour to venture back to the remote launching point but eventually we arrived and started to ponder how we were going to get all of our stuff down the trail and to the river. Al didn’t say anything, but I’m pretty sure he was laughing at us the same way my grandpa laughs at me when I’m being a dumbass. He watched in awe as the three of us grabbed a beer and put one back before we started down. Farewell Al, please don’t forget to leave my car in the parking lot.

Mule

Greg and I decided that Jake should carry the raft and we would carry a few flies and the frame. Keep in mind the frame is aluminum tubing, they make planes out of this stuff, it’s not heavy. Jake didn’t know this, or maybe he did, I dunno. At any rate he didn’t put up much of a fight when we proposed he carry the raft down the mountain. So Jake carried the raft, and Greg and I carried the frame and the fishing gear, Jake got hosed.

The locals criticized our decision making, urging us to “not let our dicks prevent us from doing the job right.” Advice we would soon come to appreciate. While I didn’t completely understand his use of diction, the man was kind enough to let us borrow a backpack frame to mount the raft on. This made everyones lives much easier and we are indebted to you good sir.

Hoppa

Another hour and some misery later we found what we were looking for. A free ride down the Gunnison, and some giant grasshoppers. We inflated our boat as we gradually became aware that we were taking a gigantic boat down this river. The guy next to us had 5 high school kids with him and his boat was 2 feet shorter and a foot narrower. He was concerned it was too big to maneuver through the rapids. We received some words of caution from another fellow boater and hurriedly pushed off in front of everyone else so we could get the first run down the water, and in the process alienate ourselves from what would be our only chance of rescue.

The fishing was a footnote throughout most of the day. We caught enough “keeper” browns to “keep” us satisfied as we gazed upon a canyon that can only be compared to the big one in Arizona. The first few miles provided little challenge as we mercilessly slaughtered stupid trout and blew through every rapid in an effort to turn the trip into a whitewater adventure.

Jake\’s Fish

We meandered through down the river with no idea what we were doing or where we were as the canyon continued to unfold. The fish didn’t seem to care what we fed them. Hoppers, stimis, copper johns, it really didn’t matter, as long as it was in the water, fish fought over our god-like offerings. We found 4 pieces of swiss cheese and one bag of processed turkey from Kroger that Greg had been kind enough to hide away in a bag for lunch. As I sit here before you I can’t imagine what we would have done without that cheese and disgusting meat. Thank you Greg, thank you…

Lost

We were urged to exercise caution at three points along the trip; Boulder Gardens, The Squeeze, and the Grand Finale. As we rounded another innocent bend we heard the roars of water rushing over large rocks. We beached our craft to investigate what laid before us. Boulder Gardens seemed to offer a formidable challenge to our below average boating skills, to say the least.

What we discovered was a run that was nearly impassable in the 13 foot cargo ship that we were commanding. A fast run with large boat eating rocks spaced close enough together that we could only prepare for a imminent scuttling of our craft. We tied everything down, looked at one another and as if on cue decided, “F-it”. Pointing the boat at every rock and rowing as hard as our gym deprived arms would allow (so.. not much).

Boulder Gardens

The crew seemed to be more confident than I was as we did our best to avoid losing everything to an overturned boat. It was fine until the rowing got technical, at which point we pretty much lost all semblance of control and were at the mercy of river. As usual however, everything turned out fine and we laughed at our continued good fortune.

The afternoon brought several more bouts of panic as we raced through the canyon attempting to make it to Pleasure Park before the day expired. The Squeeze and The Cables gave us pause but failed to derail us as we pushed through. By the time we reached the Grand Finale, we were exhausted and tired of dealing with the river. Luckily, soon after that finale series of boils the gradient of the canyon leveled out, the water warmed, and a hatch of PMD’s arrived that carried us through the end of the float. The feeding frenzy was relentless as the sun set over the canyon and we began to dismantle our boat and prepare for our five hour journey to Denver. It is an awesome trip that does~~n’t~~ require planning and will blow you away. Do it.