We drove about 100 miles today (in Ralph). The first 58 miles were on dirt roads, through very remote areas in the Kaibab Forest back country. On this Memorial Day weekend, Saturday, we saw no other person or vehicle for those entire 58 miles (five hours from 11AM to 4PM).

Our goal was to do some exploring. Our farthest destination was Buck Farm Point, an obscure promontory way down near the Colorado. From our lofty vantage at the top edge of the Saddle Mountain Wilderness, we would take Forest Roads over the top of the wilderness boundary and down to the eastern side (see map at end of this blog). Here are views via normal camera, and binoculars.

Note that my brief route description covers 32 miles of muddy, rutted, rocky, rough, dusty, steep dirt roads cutting from almost 9000 feet to down around 5500. Along with the innate adventure of it all, a 40% precip forecast was being well-met, with widespread rain and hail, and it was not always clear to us that we could make it back through some section or another after it got soaked by a storm cell.

Oh yeah, did I mention deer crossing the road? The whole area is rich with wildlife, and the big mule deer just love to dart out on any provocation, such as having us drive by. We have left several sets of gouged-out ruts in these dirt roads from grinding to a panic stop.

After we negotiated the worst of the forest roads and rain/hail showers, we were about halfway to our goal (red arrow). You can barely make out the larger canyon portion of the River in the center of the picture, just below the bright patch of ground. It was still ten miles away line-of-sight and 15 by road. The distant storm cell was working its way toward us, but slowly.

About a mile before the Point, we stumbled on a spur-road camp. It is perched literally at the edge of the drop into the
Canyon. Unlike our Howie-home spot, this edge is really an edge, and instead of our aggressive 45-degree slope at home camp, this place is a short series of sheer drops to the river 2000 feet below. The place where Karin is standing has a drop just like the one in the near distance. The road to get there is too rough for Howie to negotiate, but any camping-type 4×4 could make it easily.

This is one of those “dream camps”, a lonesome spot in the wilderness where only Nature keeps you company. The River can be seen in two directions, joined by razor-sharp erosion cuts in the landscape.

Here is a shot of the camp fire ring, and the edge and view beyond it to the east. That edge is another sheer drop. [Sleep-walkers should NOT camp here.]

Another one from the edge of the camp, to the north. A true 5-star trekking camp for sure.

Finally, after ooh-ing and ah-ing over the camp (that Howie can’t get to), we continued on to Buck Farm Point. There is also camping there, but not so close to the edge as the earlier camp. However, with a short hike, the real beauty of the Point comes into view, with 270-degree visibility of the canyons and the River.

Looks scary, doesn’t it? Well, it was. I crawled into that position feet first on hands-and-butt.

These pictures might look like standard Grand Canyon fare, but in fact the Canyon here is comparatively shallow, only half of the depth of the major canyon farther to the west. However, the grandeur is undiminished by its size, and in fact seems to be made a bit more personal. This close-ness is enhanced by the lack of crowds or much of any other trappings of civilization. The only evidence of humankind we ever saw was roads, tire tracks, and campfire rings. No trash or other desecrations. I guess that people who venture this far out have a greater respect for the land? At least I like to think so.

Hey, look down there – – – I bet those rafters are having a ball.

Looking back up to the west, we could see (more or less) where we were camped on the high rim. The Cockscombs are barely visible (4 dim humps) in the middle span of the image, just above the bird, because of the poor lighting and also because this is their forested side.

Afternoon storms started to pound the high ridge line, and we had a lot of concern that the water might make the steep, rough roads quite troublesome. Not impassable, but requiring lots of work and time. So, instead of re-tracing our route, we elected to drive far north up FR8910, intersect AZ89A again, and come back into camp by mostly paved roads. Twice as far back, in half the time. Works for me. Here’s a map of today’s adventures, struggles, views, and decisions. Hopefully it’s zoomable.