All language subtitles for Last Of The Great Unknown

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I've stood in the rim of this
canyon a hundred times before.

Every time, I'm inspired
by this massive landscape.

Sweeping vistas,
the unfathomable scale.

The light play that renders
every scene unique for eternity.

But that's not why I come back.

From here, you miss
its true essence.

There's only a hint of what's
hidden below the shadows,

out of view.

It's what I can't see
that brings me back.

It's only from deep
inside these shadows

that you discover a texture,
a complexity, even a rhythm.

Hundreds of canyons
within canyons,

like the airways in a lung,

breathing and diffusing
life into an unseen world.

Unexplored places so deep,
so remote,

that no human has
ever seen them before.

This is my obsession: to find
the last of the Great Unknown.

That's cold.

When people look
at Grand Canyon,

I think there's this notion
that it's all about

these giant
landscape views,

but that's not what gets me
excited about Grand Canyon.

Grand Canyon to me
is about thousands

of microenvironments hidden
so deep in wilderness so remote

that you'll never
see another human.

I'm fascinated by the fact
that 142 years

after John Wesley Powell
came through Grand Canyon,

you can still find places
where no human's ever been.

When John Wesley Powell came
through Grand Canyon in 1869,

he called it the Great Unknown.

But really, the Great Unknown
wasn't the river,

which Powell was
navigating and exploring.

The Great Unknown is what's
between the rim and the river.

It wasn't until Harvey Butchart
came here as a canyon explorer

in the 1940s
that the Great Unknown

was starting
to be explored.

And Harvey Butchart was someone
who was extremely interested

in exploring landscapes.

This huge expanse,
this massive, convoluted canyon,

really hadn't been
explored in modern times,

and what was known
about it was forgotten.

The native peoples,
the Indians,

had been moved on to
reservations, they were gone.

The prospectors
and miners were gone,

so all that information
was gone with them.

And for Harvey,
it was wide open.

It was a fantastic time
to explore Grand Canyon,

to get in to the places
that no one knew about.

And so, Harvey did just that.

He was really, really motivated
to get into Grand Canyon

and check out places
that, as far as anyone knew,

no one had been there.

He eventually got into climbing
buttes and stuff,

but he left
the slot canyons alone.

Those were too risky,
too dangerous,

needed way too much gear,

and took way too much effort
to try to do.

And even if he got down one
of these things, it's like,

"Where do you go from there?"

If you couldn't cross the river,
or go downstream,

or get back up,

you were gonna be trapped.

And that'd be
a tough place to die.

Harvey knew it.

There was no safety net,

so he avoided them
like the plague.

Following in Harvey's footsteps
was a man named George Steck.

And George, like Harvey,
was somebody

who was very bright,
a brilliant man,

and very passionate
about Grand Canyon.

George, unlike Harvey Butchart,
wanted to do more

lengthwise traverses
below the rim,

and he wanted to do them
in loops.

Another big goal that George had
was to walk the entire length

of Grand Canyon
below the rim.

A huge feat, only had been done
at that point

by a couple of people.

And this particular trip, he got
to the point which really was

at the crux of the hike.

It was a very deep and steep
and unclimbable canyon

called the 150 Mile,
and it was impossible to get out

without some technical gear
and climbing experience,

and so that's where George
relied on

his brother's climbing
experience, Allen.

He learned his technique,
his craft in Yosemite Valley,

climbing the big walls
in Yosemite.

And so it was a perfect
combination of George's ability

to get through the canyon
lengthwise

and Allen's ability
to get through slots

that started the whole thing.

S.O.B. Canyon was just the one
little piece of the puzzle

that we had
to get up.

We not only had to get
up to avoid being swept away

by a flash flood, we had to get
up to get to our cache,

where all our food was

because we were at the end
of the cache period,

which meant we were out of food,
and that little bucket of food

up there was important
for us to get there.

Otherwise, we'd be lost.

It'd be the end of us.

You know, when you look
at that area

where the chalkstone is,
it's all just worn so smooth,

and there's not much
to hang on to.

I was able to climb
that chalkstone.

Don't ask me how
I climbed it.

But I did, and in my notes
I say I slithered up a pocket.

Of course, all this time,
it's drizzling.

It drizzled even when
we started the day.

But now, it's turning
into a slight rain.

Of course, you know damn well
what a flash flood's like,

and you realize
it could happen right there,

so as we were struggling up,
soaking wet,

getting colder and colder
as we got higher,

our fingers starting
to cramp up,

beauty was the last bloody thing
that we were focusing on.

We wanted to get the hell
out of the canyon alive.

That was the most
important thing.

Beauty will come later,
somewhere else.

And so, we finally got
to the climb out point.

My god, we were happy
for that.

What is it,
about 60 feet or 70 feet?

You just climb
up the face.

We were just excited
to get out,

there was no doubt about it,

and we worked as hard as
we could, as fast as we could.

As the sun went down,
all we heard was falling water,

and then suddenly there
was quite a roar,

suddenly a bunch of water
appeared,

falling,
cascading water.

And we had visions of being
just sort of swept off

into the void
with the water getting up

to our chest and that
would be the end of us.

We just shook our heads,
thinking,

"What would've happened if
we'd been lower down in them?"

You know, I think
the Steck brothers,

when they first ascended
S.O.B. Canyon,

had no idea how important
that route would become.

Thirty years later,

S.O.B. Canyon
is the most significant

canyoneering route
in all of Grand Canyon,

and it leads to some
of the finest slots

you can find
anywhere in the park.

But canyoneering is a team sport
and to dig even deeper

into these areas, I needed
a competent canyoneering partner

as excited about Grand Canyon
exploration as I am.

And nobody is better
than Todd Martin.

Rich has very strong
organizational skills,

almost bordering on
a personality disorder.

He loves the puzzle,
the route finding,

and the logistics.

He spent literally hundreds
of hours pouring over maps

by Butchart and Steck
to figure out these routes.

Harvey's maps are like
the sacred scrolls

for Grand Canyon hikers.

He seemingly
went everywhere.

But when you look closely
at those maps,

you'll notice he walked
around all the slots.

Todd and I were able to follow
Harvey's routes

right to the entrances
of those secret places,

and all we had to do
is open the door.

Once inside,
we were blown away.

The majestic marble hallway

and all the dark, foreboding
chambers in upper Deer Creek.

The hypothermia-inducing
pools in Panameta.

The 400-foot
waterfall and garden.

But perhaps the best of all
is Climax.

The long, sinuous limestone
corridors, the huge cathedrals,

and then there's
the Corkscrew room.

Probably the most unique feature
in all of Grand Canyon.

After descending 130 slots
in Grand Canyon,

we found some
incredible stuff.

But, you know, the easy slots
have been done.

Hell, even the hard
slots have been done.

All that's left are these
enormously difficult slots.

And if I think back
over the last four years,

the one slot that has captured
my attention more than any other

is the slot
we call Obsession.

It has the potential to be
the very best slot

we've ever found.

This is probably
one of the most remote,

most difficult expeditions
we've ever put together.

When you look
at the satellite photos,

the slot has
outstanding characteristics.

The problem with this slot
has been that it's

just so hard to get to,
and so hard to get out of.

This is a different kind
of canyoneering

than people are used to.

This is expedition-style
canyoneering.

Pack weights
get pretty heavy.

Pushing 50 pounds
is not unusual at all.

We've got pack rafts,
wet suits, canyoneering gear,

and 650 feet of rope,

not to mention all
of our backpacking gear.

Sometimes I think hiking
in Grand Canyon

is just sheer
physical punishment.

The route through
the Kaibab Limestone

was just a steep chute.

There's no trail
on this route.

You're fortunate
if you can find

a semblance of a trail created
by a bighorn sheep.

That's about the best
you're gonna do out here.

Sometimes you're walking
on dirt clumps that are stuck

to the side of the wall
and you can see that they're

only about this thick,
and you wonder,

well, if I step on that,
is it going to hold my weight,

or is it just
going to collapse off

and drop 400 feet?

The nasty Coconino Traverse ends
with the talus slope,

down to the esplanade,

and some of the easiest hiking
of the trip.

It rolls along
in this wide-open landscape

and all of a sudden
just breaks over a cliff

and reveals
a super narrow slot below.

It's really exciting as hell
to actually be here looking

at the head of this lot
from a distance

of less than half a mile.

It's the culmination
of a lot of work.

On an exploration like this,
every move has a consequence.

Over days, and miles,
and thousands of vertical feet,

these consequences pile
on top of each other,

like the canyon's
geological layers.

The most terrifying
consequence of all

is not having enough rope.

If you underestimate
the scale of Grand Canyon,

you're trapped.

Once you pull your ropes
at the first rappel,

there's no going back.

The only option
is to get to the river.

Hm.

Put my wetsuit
on for that.

You're testing this pothole
first, not me.

You just have to be sure
to weight it down.

Weight it down.

There's just something
stunningly beautiful

about getting into
a limestone slot canyon

and rappelling
through that canyon

and looking at the textures
on the walls,

looking at the canyon's
twists and turns,

looking at what erosional forces
have done over time

to carve this crack in the
Earth, and being challenged

by all the problems
that come about

when you're descending
a technical slot.

The pools that you've got to
swim, the anchors

that you've got to construct,
all of the problem solving

to actually get
out on the other side alive.

-Can you see it, Bill?
-I can't tell from here.

I'm not gonna be able to see it
till right until it touches.

And suddenly,
the bottom drops out.

Heads up! Rocks!

75 feet.
70 feet.

Okay.

When we got to
the Temple Butte,

all of the sudden,
it starts to make this dive.

There's a chute,
there's a rappel,

and then another rappel.

When I saw that,
I was like, "Oh, man,

we are not far
from the river!

And we still have
a long way to go."

We had 800 feet
to go at that point,

and I was really sitting there
racking my brain

about whether
the maps were right

and whether we had enough gear
to get out of that canyon.

About a 300-foot rappel
that is mostly overhanging.

You can see the river
down there.

There's still
one more rappel to go,

and it's
getting late in the day.

How are you feeling?

I'm feeling great,

except butterflies
in the stomach sometimes.

Something this big.

There was, I think,
an audible sense of relief

when we heard
the rope bag

hit all the way
down at the bottom of the drop.

At least at that point
we had the confidence

that we were going
to be okay.

This is pretty much
free-hanging.

Without a doubt,
that's the scariest part

of an expedition like this.

You can look at the satellite
images, the topos all you want,

but until you see
the big drop for real,

you have no idea
if you'll make it.

Oh, wow.
That was epic.

Perfect.

I think that's
probably all I need.

Damn, that looks--

Bomber.

Really?

Rope!

We rappel out of a no-name
canyon in the middle

of Mohave gorge,
and we have no way home.

All we have is a small patch
of sand and cliff walls.

The only way we're
getting out of here

is floating out of here
in these boats.

A century and a half after
Powell first explored

this river, the canyon
still reveals her secrets,

one layer at a time.

Solving one mystery
only inspires us

to search
out a dozen more.

I guess part of me hopes
that there is no last

of the Great Unknown.

As we drift away, another
exploration is behind us,

but the obsession
still remains.