Adam Trahan: Glen Canyon Camping at 9 Mile

Our camp is on the far side of the river

I took all the photos on this page, please do not use them without permission and without credit. Enjoy them for what they are, a look into my world, the way I do it.

We bought more than this…

The mountain snow in Flagstaff

I love cumulus clouds

Quick photography stop

One of my favorite photos

At the dock

Brothers from other mothers

On the way upriver we saw a Bighorn munchin river grass

I wrote this poem 25 or so years ago, sing this song in your head to the Red Hot Chili Peppers song, “Give It Away”

There's a place in,
Northern Arizona,
a desert river,
come from Colorado.
The Mormons crossed there,
at Lees Ferry,
then they built the bridge,
and it was easy

Chorus

Glen Canyon Dam!
Hoover Dam!
Mar de Cortez,
all the way to Mexico,
Marble Canyon,
the Grand Canyon,
Anasazi,
don't forget the Navajo.

We drive our boats up,
the curvy river,
to the sand bars,
then we park there.
Unpack our kitchen,
pile up the wood so high,
start a fire,
then we cast our flys.

Chorus

Glen Canyon Dam!
Hoover Dam!
Mar de Cortez,
all the way to Mexico,
Marble Canyon,
the Grand Canyon,
Anasazi,
don't forget the Navajo.

Just like Zorro,
lay the line down jiggly,
when the yarn dives,
lift the rod quickly.
The river rainbows,
fat and ultra wiggly,
6X works the best,
land 'em very gently.

Chorus

Glen Canyon Dam!
Hoover Dam!
Mar de Cortez,
all the way to Mexico,
Marble Canyon,
the Grand Canyon,
Anasazi,
don't forget the Navajo.

Luke, this is that crack

So let me tell you a little story about Glen Canyon. I’ve been visiting it for about 30 years now. A hang gliding and fishing friend kept telling me about it. This was back in the early nineties. We would sit around the campfire on top of a mountain in the Verde Valley on a hang gliding trip and he would tell me how cool this place was. His name is Mike Markgraf and I’ve lost touch with him over the years but he was the guy, the reason that started my journey there.

Take about a week off he said, and that’s what I did, in February of 1996 (or so) Back then there were few private boats on the water. Mikes was a 16’ Lund aluminum boar with a 25 horse outboard. We put in at Lees Ferry and motored up 8 miles into Glen Canyon, beached the boat on the shore of 8 miles into Glen campground and unloaded into our camp. Seems like we had nearly a half cord of mesquite we had collected and we used a small Smokey Joe kettle for a fire.

We pushed off and drifted with the current and used the trolling motor to do laps in the big eddy currents in bends of the river. We ate fish, hamburgers, drank and talked of hang gliding.

Mike left AZ and moved back to Minnesota. I lost his address and we lost touch and I didn’t return to Glen Canyon for a few years until I learned to fly fish. This time we camped at 9 miles into Glen where I camp now under a tree that I’ve watched grow. I fished it hard for about fifteen years, I know the river like I know my neighborhood except the river is much bigger.

About 7 years ago, I started packrafting solo and eventually started taking my work family there. I used a friends guide service for backhauling me upriver with a big bundle of firewood and drop me off at 9 mile. Fish, camp and then push off and paddle the 9 miles back to my car then drive the 220 miles home.

After a few years, we got tired of paddling so now we just go camping upriver. The fishing is always good but the catching is nothing like it was 20 or 30 years ago so I don’t fish much up there now, I mostly just cook good meals with my friends, escape city life and immerse myself in a desert canyon.

This was the best trip I’ve had up there and fishing was the last thing on my mind. It snowed on the way up through Flagstaff, showered on us, huddling under a small tarp while we washed down drinks and talked like kids. It hailed on us, the wind blew and we froze. We brought twelve bags of firewood and burned them all. We were home, from 9miles upriver to our places in Phoenix in five total hours. That’s with a pizza stop in Flagstaff.

This was an epic journey, a fast exit and just the right amount of suffering. We spoke of politics, religion and all the bad shit that you are not supposed to talk about but we did and we are no worse for wear. As a matter of fact, we are all a little closer.

I used to write about this place for my fishing websites. I don’t know how many people that I’ve turned on to Glen Canyon, a lot. I know that there are only a few people that I really enjoy up this canyon, these guys and the guides. They know me by name now and I would not have it any other way.

This is just one trip, but it was the best, EPIC is the word I used to describe this place.