Climbing Woolsey Butte

August 29, 2024

I was so happy to finally get to the summit of Woolsey Butte on August 29th – just a single week after my most recent attempt.

As described in my last post, this nondescript little peak was a thorn in my side. So after being turned around yet again, just a single week ago, I set out on my very next day off to finally get it done.

In hindsight, getting out to this one is a relatively short outing without much technical difficulty, but that’s part of what stymied my attempts – always underestimating it.

The other barrier is the New Mexico Locust – thickets of thorn trees guarding the head of the route down through the Coconino. Finding the correct ravine that breaks down through Coconino is the key to this hike, and the part that always led me astray, as I was always looking too far to the north. And unless you take the time to do a little research and dial in the location of the correct ravine, a lot of time and energy is lost battling the locust thorns in looking for it.

So on this successful attempt, I finally did take the time to do just a little research. On my off-trail expeditions in the Canyon I’d sometimes been the type to do minimal research and just figure it out as I go (because that can be the fun part!), but here it just wasn’t working (I blame the thorns).

Upon close review of a couple of maps – namely Harvey Butchart’s and the one found in the rare Tomasi summits book – I finally located the correct ravine.

The Initial Descent

Despite my vow to take Woolsey more seriously, I didn’t start from Point Imperial until 1:00pm. This was mostly an effect of my late working schedule at the North Rim Lodge. Later starts usually worked out well for me because of my affinity for night-hiking – especially in the summer months with later daylight. Night-hiking off-trail usually isn’t a very good idea, though, as we’ll see later.

It’s fitting that the first picture I took was in the midst of the locust on the way down to the Coconino Rim.

The thorns reached over my head, so thick that I could only see a few feet in any direction – on a steep downhill with poor footing. The lack of visibility was unsettling because I knew the Coconino cliffs were hiding somewhere below.

The thorn tips were lodged in my skin for almost a full week after the hike, as I waited for them to work their way to a pick-able surface.

My attire today definitely wasn’t customary. In order to fend off the thorns, I wore an old pair of blue jeans and an old rain jacket despite the afternoon heat. They say that cotton kills, but it can actually be beneficial in very hot environments because it holds your sweat better. Underneath the rain jacket I wore a long-sleeved cotton shirt as an added protection against the thorns. It was fully button-up too, so the shirt and jacket could be opened for ventilation.

My hands were relatively protected by an old pair of cycling gloves. Thicker gardening gloves may have been best, but then I would have been unable to operate my phone for its camera and notes functions.

Farther down the ravine – once I was through the sheer cliffs, it was necessary to descend quite a bit farther to access the most friendly place to begin contouring to the north.

I didn’t know it yet, but even though I’d have to go up through it again, the hardest part of the hike was behind me after I got down through the Hermit to the Supai cliffs.

It took about 40 minutes from Point Imperial for me to get to the top of the Coconino ravine. It took another 40 minutes to get down the ravine and into the Hermit Shale. My GPS said that I descended 1,000 feet in just a half mile!

The next phase of the hike was to traverse the rim of the Supai Cliffs to the north, to the place where Woolsey’s ridgeline meets the cliffs. It was some of the best walking of the day, as I was out of the thick brush and able to follow the occasional game trail.

The most notable part of this section was the contour across the far upper end of an arm of Nankoweap Creek that felt just a little exposed.

Getting through the topmost Supai cliffs was the last wildcard on whether I’d be able to get to the summit. On a past attempt where I made more progress than all the others, we followed the Tomasi’s advice by beginning to descend the shelves before going all the way north to the ridge, and quickly got hung up.

In more recent reports I read that it’s actually better to continue to the ridge, and it was true! It looked unlikely coming from the south, but there’s a clean ravine all the way through to the saddle in front of the butte. I was going to make it!

Like most of the Canyon’s features, Woolsey Butte suddenly looks a bit larger when it’s up close and personal.

It was an easy walk from the saddle to the top.

More photos of the approach:

Summit Views

Looking down into the wet arm of Nankoweap Creek – I could hear water down there!

And there’s the way I came, looking up toward Point Imperial. The key breaks are visible in the Supai on the upper right, and in the Coconino (mostly) on the upper left.

I had a great rest here, paging through the register before continuing. It was a very satisfying respite – as new peaks always are – but this one was especially so because of the previous failures. And the views held a great perspective of this corner of the Canyon.

Out to See Kolb Arch

I was able to get a look at the seldom seen Kolb Arch by continuing out the ridge from the summit. The arch is so remote that its modern discovery wasn’t until 1951, credited to Barry Goldwater when he saw it from an airplane.

The ridge was easy to navigate, at least as far as to get a view of the bridge. I then continued a little further, but progress looked a lot harder and likely impossible in the distance toward Bourke Point. Besides, I was out of time to make it back up to the rim before sunset.

Kolb Arch

More from the walk to see Kolb Arch:

The Return Trip

The return hike was quite simple and enjoyable, at least until I was up to the top of the Coconino. It was there after sunset that it became seriously dark out. I discovered that thrashing UP through the locust took significantly more effort and willpower than the initial descent, where I had gravity on my side. The difficulty of seeing the footing ahead in the failing light didn’t help, either.

Looking back at Woolsey:

Making my way back up the lower ravine – this part pictured above was easy and quite fun, scrambling up solid rocks in the the drainage. The nastiest steepest thorniest parts were further above.

I had to keep moving consistently and push the pace to race sunset. You can see here that the last light of day was already away to the east before I got into the narrow part of the Coconino.

It was some time after sunset and quite dark when I took this photo above – my phone just took the liberty of brightening it up for us.

Above the Coconino, when it was clear I was in danger of being caught out in total darkness, I chose to make a beeline for the rim taking the nearest, most likely looking line, locust be damned.

I felt like a wild man – alone, thrashing up through the sharp brush in the dark – quite the surge of adrenaline!

I got to the rim at 7:50pm. Sunset had long passed at 6:59, nearly a full hour before I topped out! I made it without using my headlamp.

More photos from the return trip:

Woolsey Butte was my first new Grand Canyon summit in quite some time. Finally bagging this one gave me the confidence to go on and get a few more new peaks throughout the ensuing year.