With all sorts of dubious beta garnered before our trip, we hadn’t heard a word mentioned about the third day of the Grand Canyon. What we knew from the map was simple, although the gradient mellowed out a little it was still significant, and the trail finally left the river, leaving the last several miles much more inaccessible to foot traffic, a relief to us.

What we did know due to our campsite location we had a major slide to start day three. We all took a look at it while setting up camp, but it warranted another scout from the camp in the morning, and eventually one more scout from river right. While it was a low angle slide, it was also over one hundred feet long and had a big entrance move followed by a gigantic hole at the bottom. 



Chris blasted through the bottom hole but had several roll attempts in the aerated, swirly water made me nervous, but after a few attempts he was up. Downstream of the epic morning slide the river turned back into mostly class IV read and run with the occasional V that we were able to boat scout, all backed up by wonderful scenery.



The gradient dropped out of sight as we ran the lead-in on the above rapid, and once out of our boats we gave it a long scout before opting to take a lunch break and continue scouting the rapid. Ben was convinced that the rapid could go with relatively (to a V+) minimal consequence. Chris and I weren’t so convinced, and eventually with some regret on Ben’s part we all decided to walk in the name of remoteness and safety. Mid scout we noticed how many mean pocket holes the drop had, and dubbed it “Hot Pocket”. Not content with walking the whole thing, Ben decided to bite off four “Hot Pockets” and ran the bottom half through four big holes.



Past the hot pockets it was back to excellent class IV-IV+ read and run for another mile, until suddenly the canyon opened up and we had another horizon line. From the lip of the drop we could see a gauge high on river right, signifying that we had made it to Hetch Hetchy. The final drop took a full scout, it was comprised of three separate holes, each looking more retentive until the final, weir like ledge into the lake. 

We’d been grooving along pretty well through the day, and I was surprised when Chris and Ben said they weren’t feeling the drop. The first ledge was an easy move, followed by all 1,200cfs pinching through a five foot wide slot, and then a short moving pool into the weir. Punching the weir in the middle wasn’t a possibility because of at least ten feet of highly elevated backwash. However, there was a thin line down the right, a shallow layer of water going over a slide up and around the hole.

I couldn’t resist the desire to have the chance of swimming into an eight mile long pool, and all of us portaging the final drop seemed to be a crime. Although there was decent chance the hole was too sticky to swim out of, so Ben and Chris set extensive safety to rope me out if it proved to be that heinous. I took one last look while Chris filmed and Ben grabbed my camera, and soon enough I was past the entrance hole and lining up for the second pinch hole. Coming in I realized my original line wasn’t going to happen, so I switched to the backup plan and paddled hard into the middle, going deep and resurfacing in a full stern squirt, going all the way over. Knowing I had to get up soon to setup for the final hole I was relived to feel strong current on my blade and rolled up with just enough time to turn around and start driving to the right, getting far right and sliding around the final hole with a huge grin on my face.


Sitting in the shade at the lake we had to laugh at the classic move we had made. Talking to the Knapps before hand, they mentioned arriving at the lake around noon and being too impatient to wait, paddling across in the middle of the day. With heightened home land security, we decided that it was time to be patient, and took naps, made several meals, and in general whittled away six hours chasing shade around. Finally at nine the sun dropped below the ridge, the wind died down and we started the slog out.



All things considered we thought the Grand Canyon of the Tuolumne at 1,200cfs was pretty good. On the whole we portaged four miles at most, paddled countless miles of IV-V boulder gardens, got a few good slides and enjoyed epic scenery. I believe the bad reputation associated with this run is due to most groups going in with flows around 600. I personally wouldn’t go in with less than 800 on the gauge. If it was legal it I’d do it every year, but with the current situation I’d say it’s a “do once” run.