Date: 2014-01-29
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127 SecondsI took a solo hiking and camping trip down to Fossil Springs, Arizona in late September of last year mainly just to get out, take some photographs and get more accustomed to some of my new gear. Initially, I was going to camp in the West Clear Creek Wilderness, but because of poor road conditions, I changed plans and made my way to the Fossil Springs trailhead not far from the forest road that I was on. Fossil Springs is a beautiful, heavily used wilderness area northwest of Payson, Arizona. The hike down to the springs is about 4 miles along a rocky trail with an elevation loss of about 1,400 feet. Because I had initially prepared for the West Clear Creek area, I didn¢t bring my hiking boots and had to hike down in Teva sandals.   I was able to make it down to the bottom of the trail in just over an hour with little problems. Just down from where the trail intersects the dry stream bed, the springs pump straight from the ground at around 2,700 cubic feet per minute, and remain a year-round temperature of about 72 degrees Fahrenheit. The water is crystal clear and has a strikingly beautiful Caribbean blue appearance; the area around the creek is so lush with vegetation that at times it is hard to believe you are in Arizona. The springs were once used to power a hydroelectric generating station, but most of the facilities have since been dismantled and the area is being restored to its natural state. A trail that was once part of an old roadway and contained a flume for the power plant connects this area to another popular and crowded section of the creek about 5 miles downstream. The section of the springs between the two popular areas is relatively remote and rarely visited. I ate my lunch and spent some time hanging out around the remnants of a travertine dam that form a nice waterfall where many of the day hikers and campers congregate. There are rope swings, and ledges where the adventurous jump into the deep pools below. There were probably 15 to 20 people hanging out in this area while I was there. Just upstream of the falls, there are several primitive camp sites.   On a previous trip to Fossil Springs, I had explored part of the remote section and remembered finding some beautiful, isolated swimming holes. On this trip, I had planned to further explore the remote section and hopefully find a place to camp away from the crowd.After lunch, I followed the Flume Trail for a few hundred yards downstream of the dam and found an area where I thought I could easily make my way down to the water. At this location, the springs are several hundred feet below the level of the Flume Trail.   I went off-trail and bush wacked my way down the steep slope to the springs and what I saw when I got there was a little disheartening. The springs were a beautiful mess. It was a lush hodgepodge, full of reedy, shallow ponds filled with cattails, low terraces adjacent to high travertine walls and ledges, and small waterfalls descending into deeps pools. The steep gradient of the springs in this area added to the variability. Tree falls and downed limbs were armored with a travertine coating from the heavy mineral laden water constantly flowing through the area. The embankments sloped steeply to the edge of the springs and offered no pathways up or downstream. One thing was apparent, if I was going to make my way downstream from here, it was not going to be easy and I was probably going to get wet. At the water¢s edge, I stuffed all of my camera equipment, food and anything else I wanted to keep dry into a dry bag. I picked my way across and down the springs along travertine bridges and through shallow pools doing my best to stay out of the deep water, but it was clear that if I were going to continue, I would need to do some wading and possibly some swimming. I looked back to see if returning the way I came in was an option and it didn¢t look good. I was beginning to second guess my decision to go off trail into this remote section of Fossil Springs. After several hundred yards, which included wading some deep pools, I came to an area that would require me to cross the springs above a small waterfall that dropped 4-6 feet into a deep pool below. I saw a travertine ledge several feet across the springs that once reached would allow me to scale down to the other side and make my way further downstream.   I dropped into the springs in waist deep water to begin crossing and immediately realized that the current was much stronger than I had anticipated. I quickly grabbed a section of the travertine wall on the other side and held on. At this point, I was fearful of going over the falls and being thrown into the pool below. I held on as long as I could, but the power of the current was too strong and I lost my grip. I realized then the inevitable¢¦ I was going over the falls.   In a matter of seconds, I was pushed to the edge of the falls and¢¦.then I stopped. The force of the water drove me into the narrow channel and pinned me there. I was wedged between two sharp, travertine walls. My arms were locked inside my pack straps and I had no way of pulling them out to free myself as the force of the current pressed against my back. Fortunately, I was able to keep my feet under me and remain upright forcing the water to pass around me and over my shoulders, and not over my head. I felt the wind being pushed out of my lungs, and immediately I was struck with sheer panic as I struggled to catch my breath. The sound of the water was deafening and as I looked overhead and saw the dense canopy of trees, I realized that no one would be able to see me from the trail above, or hear my calls for help. I wondered if I was going to escape from this seemingly dire situation and the plight of Aron Ralston immediately came to mind. Ralston was the hiker whose arm was trapped by a boulder for 127 hours, and who ended up severing his arm to free himself. I remained pinned for what seemed at the time, an eternity. Realistically, it was not more than a few minutes. Eventually, the force of the water was too great and my body was literally squeezed through the chute. The level of adrenaline coursing through my body at the time was so great that I didn¢t feel the pain of my ribs being compressed and the exposed portions of my legs, arms, and feet being cut by the sharp travertine. My foam sleep pad, which was strapped to the back of my pack was ripped off along with some built in shock chords and I was pushed through the chute and over the falls. My earlier fear of going over the falls was replaced with relief as I plunged over the edge and into the pool below. I landed upright and bobbed back up to the surface buoyed by the dry bag inside my pack. Dazed and fatigued by the experience, I floated downstream and around a bend in the canyon to an area that opened up into the bright sunshine. I was able to pull myself out of the water and onto a barren shelf of exposed rock. I pulled off my pack and immediately inspected my camera to see if any damage had been done by the water.   Fortunately, my camera equipment had remained high and dry, but my down sleeping bag was not so lucky. It was completely soaked. I spent several minutes on the rock resting and gathering my wits. It was at this time that I realized the extent of my injuries. My ribs were severely bruised and I had cuts and scratches all over my legs, arms, and feet. The worst cuts consisted of deep gouges in the heel and toe of my right foot. Most of the other cuts, although they looked bad, were mainly just surficial. I could see some hikers up on the Flume Trail above and realized that if I needed help getting out, I could probably get it, but I was not ready to be rescued at this point. I looked around and evaluated my situation to determine how I was going to make it out and back up to the established trail.   My options included going back the way I came, climbing out up the steep canyon slope to the Flume Trail above, or continuing downstream until I could find a better way out. Had it not been for my injuries, I would have probably opted for floating downstream since it was a relatively easy way to cover ground as long as I encountered no major obstacles such as waterfalls. Going back the way I came was definitely out of the question, so I walked up and down the bank and looked for a way to climb out.   The canyon wall was steep and consisted of loose rock and talus and the lush vegetation of the springs was replaced with desert scrub here.   Climbing out in sandals, cut up feet, and a water logged pack, probably double its dry weight was not going to be easy.   I tried making my way up a couple of routes, but kept sliding down the slope due to the weight of my heavy pack. At one point, I put my hand down to stop my fall and unfortunately, it landed in the middle of a dead cactus. Although, the cactus was dead, its thorns were alive and pricking. While pulling thorns out of my hand, I noticed a small ravine between two rock outcrops that had small trees growing in between. Using the small trees for leverage, I was able to pull myself up one foot at a time until I could reach the Flume Trail. When I crawled out onto the Flume Trail, I experienced a deep sense of relief knowing that my ordeal was mostly over.I ended up camping in the primitive camp site that night and because of the pain in my ribs, cuts on my body, and throbbing in my fingers from the cactus thorns, I was able to sleep very little. The fact that my wet down sleeping bag provided very little insulation on a cold night did not help the situation. As I prepared to leave the next morning, I was concerned that the cuts on my feet would make it difficult to hike the four mile trail up to the parking lot where my car was parked. Fortunately, the straps on my sandals were not in the same location as the cuts on my feet and I was able to make it up the trail with little problem. As I prepare to hike the Appalachian Trail, this experience provides a valuable lesson on how quickly situations in the wild can turn dangerous and an observation that when a situation looks bad, it usually is and can very quickly get worse.