Sapillo Box
October 19-21, 2024
Battered trail sign at the intersection of Spring Canyon and Sheep Corral.
Straight away we hiked out to the confluence of Sapillo Creek and the Gila River. Here, the Gila makes a hairpin turn — almost doubling back on itself — before veering sharply to the west and heading for Arizona.
But there was no sign of the northbound CDT. The next day we encountered some SOBO CDT hikers who confirmed that the trail is completely washed out for three miles north of the confluence.
We camped in a grove of cedar, Arizona sycamore and Ponderosa pine, between tortured red bubbly volcanic cliffs on one side, and sparkling Sapillo Creek on the other.
We continue to go somewhat ultra light. All dehydrated food, no radio gear, no chairs, and Dennis and I are sharing the 1.5-person tent I bought for working with the Gila Trails crew. A bit cozy, but it works.
Morning mist on Sapillo Creek.
Off to see if we could make our way to Sapillo Box. We were surprised to find that there was actually a faint trail along the creek, and, not surprisingly, it was quite scenic. The creek has a significant drop and an impressive flow, and many small waterfalls. Typical riparian vegetation lines the creek, and the sycamores were some of the biggest I'd ever seen, with a girth of six feet or more, and deformed into fantastical shapes.
We passed a sizable cave with a blackened ceiling — likely a Native American site — but unfortunately trashed by horse campers, who had littered the site with fuel cans, ropes and assorted debris. Hey guys, we hiked in with no pack animals and left not so much as a twist tie at our campsite. Do better!
Tall evening primrose were everywhere along the creek.
We pressed on, along an ephemeral trail.
The canyon walls closed in, plunging us into primeval darkness.
About two miles in, we arrived at the slot.
The canyon walls were no more than 10 feet apart, but between us and the slot was a large pool with a mandatory swim.
We were sorry to turn back, but there was no getting past this point without a wetsuit.
Overnight the almost-full moon lit up the canyon like daylight. A pair of Western Screech Owls chattered back and forth until a Great Horned Owl's throaty challenge thundered up the canyon. How's a girl supposed to get any sleep surrounded by so much beauty?
The climb out of Sapillo is one of the toughest hikes we've ever done. For seven miles, it works its way around the north side of Sapillo Creek, dropping into one side canyon after another (I counted at least 11), each one separated by a ridge with a steep climb of several hundred feet.
But the views were stupendous.
Sheep Corral on the right, Sapillo on the left.
Looking west toward the Gila.
Sapillo is the slottiest of slots. The Mother of All Slots. The steep, razor-sharp crack extends for miles.
Three miles in, we crossed a wash and passed by an old corral. It's hard to believe anyone ranched here, so far from any other signs of civilization.
6½ hours in, we finally dropped back into the creek.
There was a big beautiful pool at the junction, but I was too tired to swim. Imagine!
Will we ever make it to Sapillo Box again? Who knows? But one thing's for sure, IT WON'T BE VIA SPRING CANYON!! 😹
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