Michael calculated that the nine-day hiking distance total was 65 +/-5 miles.
We were supposed to be going to Yosemite. It was to have been a joint trip with the alternate hiking club. A healing, even. That was before Yosemite was trashed-- some would say cleansed-- by the floods. The thought of hiking in mud didn't appeal, and we turned our sights to Escalante. Numerous hikers expressed interest, and were duly subjected to trial by email. No-one can survive a six month deluge of itineraries, URLs, weather reports, trail descriptions, proposals and counter-proposals unless they really, really, really want to hike, and so finally we were left with the following:
We had hoped to camp in a place where we would awaken to spectacular scenery, but by 10 pm we were too tired to continue, and we camped by the Sevier River near Hatch.
The next morning, we drove the last hour to Escalante. This section of road is really pretty, especially at Red Canyon, which is worthy of closer investigation. The first stop in Escalante was at the Ranger Station, where Kathy asked advice on our proposed hikes.
The weather report had no suggestion of rain, but it was raining, the last thing you want for slot canyon hikes, and the Ranger advised against Little Death Hollow, but said Coyote Gulch would be safe. We had planned to take Kelsey's route into Coyote Gulch, entering at Jacob Hamblin arch, but the ranger said this was a near vertical section of slickrock 150 ft high, and very dangerous. This turned out to be a gross exaggeration, but we re-arranged our hard-fought schedule in deference.
Our first hike was a short but scenic trip from Calf Creek campground to a 130 ft high waterfall, about 4 miles roundtrip.
The campground hostess, seeing us in boots and raingear, asked where we were from. She said, "We get more rain here than Arizona, but it's a dry rain". She was right, too, it just sprinkled and we dried as fast as we got wet.
We felt decidedly overdressed as we were passed by hordes of barefoot children in shorts and bikinis with not a water bottle or backpack between them. None seemed about to collapse, but if they had, we would have been ready with our 3 liters, our Powerbars and Moleskin.
We soon became aware of a bizarre, almost eerie social phenomenon. Everyone we passed, men, women and children, all were stunningly handsome. It had to be a coach trip from Hollywood, or a mass photo-shoot for a catalogue, or an alien invasion. Later, we found this is a state-wide effect. Is it selective breeding, or radiation, or an indulgence of Grace? Does environmental beauty attract the handsome, repel the ugly, rub off on the inhabitant or distort the perception? We'll never know.
There is an interpretive leaflet, which was properly recited at each station, describing the flora and fauna and Indian petroglyphs and habitations. The creek has been extensively engineered by beavers, which have felled trees up to 6 inches diameter, and built many dams, one 100 feet across, creating waterfalls up to 6 feet high. The pool at the base of the main falls was icy cold, and only the perfect children were able to swim. Yoshi ate lunch sitting on a pile of poison ivy, but was not affected.
The Kelsey (Forty-Mile) trailhead is reached by driving 43 miles down a well graded dirt road, which would be 4wd when wet, but is sandy and dries quickly. The trailhead is marked by a huge circular metal water tank on top of a small hill. There were lots of vehicles there, so we camped a mile further, at a sign "Deep Sand".
Chuck and Michael decided there was enough daylight to check out the Kelsey slickrock, and ran the 2 miles each way to Jacob Hamblin arch. The trail is indistinct, and hard going over lava rock, and the slickrock is intimidating, as the convex curvature hides what lies ahead. They did not reach the river, and we decided to follow the Ranger's advice, and take the much longer route through "Crack in the Wall".
Next morning, we hiked the 1.5 miles of Deep Sand to the next trailhead. The road looked passable with 2wd, but was much softer on the way back after it had dried.
We had marked our map with the Ranger's route, but either the Ranger's map or our map reading was wrong, and after an hour of hiking across featureless, horizon to horizon rock, we reached Coyote Gulch at a sheer drop of 1000 ft. We headed east along the rim, and soon found the 'crack-in- the-wall', from which we could see the cars at the trailhead on an uncorrected bearing of 220 degrees. We realised that getting back in the dark would be very challenging.
At the crack in the wall, a large flake of rock is falling away, leaving a gap of 1-2 feet filled with sand, sloping conveniently down to the top of a humungous sand dune, down which we half walked, half slid to the river. We passed a kayaker carrying his kayak in what looked like a 100 lb pack up the dune. It had taken an hour, and he had to go back for the second half of his pack.
Coyote Gulch has a small creek, 3 to 20 ft wide, a few inches deep. It is somewhat like the West Fork of Oak Creek, with a sandy trail, lots of trees, and several waterfalls 3 to 30 feet high. The rocks are taller, and much like Zion. There are several arches, one spanning the creek, some petroglyphs, and a cut off section of creek forming a lake. There is an abundance of good camp sites, mostly occupied, as most people do this hike as a 2-3 day backpack. It is about 18 miles round trip.
We stopped for lunch at the JH arch, under an overhang that formed a dome about 300 ft across and 100 ft high. Echoes return about six times, with the fourth strongly amplified. The best sound source for this experiment is Yoshi's muscular tongue, which makes a deafening click.
After lunch, at 1:30, there was some concern about getting out before dark, so adrenaline junkies Kathy, Yoshi, Michael and Sam climbed the 150 ft tall Dangerous Slickrock.
It's really only 40 degrees, but treacherously slick, as sandstone grips impressively up to the point of failure, then turns to sand. If you stay cool, stand upright, and get lucky, it's an easy walk out, but Sam leaned forward to put his hands on the rock and immediately slid down the rock on his knees. He looked like he lost an argument with a belt sander. He is a tough, farm-raised boy, and thought little of it, whereas I would have cried and run home.
Chuck and I hiked back the way we came, and got back a couple hours before dark, but uncomfortably low on water, as I had foolishly relied on Kathy's filter. The trip up the monster dune was mercifully easy. As soon as we reached the top, a gale force headwind began, which could have made the dune unbearable if not invisible.
Back at the camp site, the wind had blown Chuck's tent away, and the poles had worn right through the rain fly. The sand was so fine it had penetrated the tent fabric, and covered the bedding. No-one wanted to eat in the sand storm, and we went to bed hungry and ate sand all night.
Coyote Gulch is the most popular hike in Escalante. If your favorite Arizona hike is the West Fork of Oak Creek, Coyote Gulch could easily spoil your fun. We all agreed that Spooky was our favorite, but Coyote Gulch is a must for any trip.
The narrows, Peek-a-boo Gulch, and Spooky Gulch are definitely slot canyons.
The narrows was a fun little slot canyon. Due to the water pools in the canyon we were able to practice our stemming. The most notable quote was by Yoshi right before he fell in "Is this where everyone fell?" Yes, Yoshi that is now where everyone has fallen. We really weren't prepared for wading through the water so we avoided it. We were all 10 years old again :) stemming above the water. Actually if we were 10, we probably would have just slogged though it. We were all 33+ years old again.
Two of the slot canyons we did only one direction. We went up Spooky and down Peek-a-boo. I can understand how Spooky Gulch got its name. It is pretty scary when you come across hikers coming from the other direction. As the other hikers approached we scrambled for position. Much of the hike you had your body sandwiched between two layers of rock, holding onto your backpack with one hand and dragging it though. Most of us, being rather slim, had little problem sliding through the narrow walls. Kathy's pack was a different story. It is nice to know that you are trimmer than your pack. We promptly signed Kathy's pack up for Jenny Craig after the hike. Next time the flare guns and hibachi will be left behind. If you are claustrophobic this is the hike for you. After squeezing through Spooky we hiked over the hot desert to the other end of Peek-a-boo.
We did meet some hikers as we came out of Spooky. For some reason half of the group got this incredible urge to become used car salesmen. I think it was due to the heat. The sun had fryed their brains. I've seen this before. So after talking for HOURS about a jeep wrangler that NO ONE in the group wanted we continued hiking (thank goodness). Fortunately no one had to change their shoes or we would have surely died of thirst.
Peek-a-boo has many interesting rock formations which easily lend to the name "peek-a-boo". With the curves and dips the hiker in front of you quickly disappears and reappears. It was easier coming down Peek-a-boo (because you were usually climbing down). The exit to Peek-a-boo was approximately 15 feet off the ground. There are foot holds and hand holds to assist you up and down the entrance.
After completing the fun of Peek-a-boo and Spooky did we head home? No! We hiked on to Brimstone. Across the hot hot (hot hot hot) desert to Brimstone. The slots are about 80 degrees so anything above 84 is unbearable.
Well Brimstone was full of water. Obviously hell had frozen over last winter and had begun to thaw. We crossed the first water which was about calf deep. We approached the next pond and it was going to be waist deep. Since we weren't prepared for wading we returned to the cars.
Once again, I tracked down Richard and with our keen sense of direction we hiked real fast and got disoriented. I always wonder how my ancestors lived beyond the age of eight. As we were hiking around we heard a voice from above. It was a large woman who obviously wanted to test our manhood. She called down directions to an exit. This exit was along a one foot ridge and went up 100 feet. Obviously, knowing my ability of handling heights I promptly declined. Richard would have gone up but then I would have spent the rest of my days in Spooky Gulch. Having failed her first test the large woman pointed out another exit.
Once we got to the top little insects wanted to eat us up. I recalled my experience at Buckskin Gulch so I grabbed my insect repellent and bathed in it.
I'm glad I was in a group. For Memorial Day, we saw very few other hikers.
Our hike along the Escalante River began just outside the town of Escalante at around 7:30 am. The plan was for Chuck, Richard, and Yoshi to hike for about 1.5 hrs and return the way they had come so that they could get started on the trip home by 11:00 am. Kathy, Michael, and I would continue on to another trailhead approximately 15 miles downriver where we had left Michael's van. However, at the first river crossing, Chuck, Richard, and Yoshi decided to turn back, since they were not prepared to hike through water.
Frequent river crossings were necessitated as the winding river washed against the sheer walls of the canyon. The banks of the river supported a wide diversity of flora. We traversed hills covered with Indian rice grass, wildflowers, and small prickly pear with flowers of various shades of pink, yellow, and peach. At different points along the river's edge we encountered thickets of tamarisk, tall cottonwoods, and stands of box elder.
We stopped for lunch on a narrow strip of land across the river from a vertical cliff hundreds of feet high. Kathy spotted a bird swooping up to a nest that clung precariously to the cliff face. Around 1:00 pm we reached the mouth of Death Hollow. The water which flowed from Death Hollow was clear and warm, in contrast to the cold murky water of the river. A couple of miles further downstream we crossed a beautiful meadow and entered a grove of small trees with silvery leaves and yellow blossoms that smelled like honey. Nearby we found 2 caves on either side of a small unnamed creek.
We eventually reached the mouth of Sand Creek, which we explored briefly. A short distance beyond Sand Creek we saw a large natural arch and discovered the ruins of an ancient cliff dwelling to the left and below the arch. Finally we reached an immense, beautifully symmetrical natural bridge. Our journey concluded before sunset about 1 mile from the lower Calf Creek Falls trailhead/campground.
This hike could easily be stretched into a pleasant 2 or 3 day backpacking trip by including an excursion up Death Hollow and perhaps exploring Sand Creek as well. A couple we met during our hike described an idyllic campsite in Death Hollow near a waterfall and several clear pools.
Deer flies were a fairly common nuisance during our hike, so long pants and a long sleeve shirt are recommended. Foot wear appropriate for hiking in water and a hiking staff of some sort are essential.
I had told Michael and Sam to wake me up whenever they got up in the morning. Otherwise, I would sleep forever. We had camped near Calf Creek, and with the sound of the water, I would certainly not wake up just because it was morning. They had been up quite a while before they checked on me; I was so sound asleep that I barely had enough of a voice to tell them when I was awake. I'd had a wonderful night's sleep.
We had quite a bit of a drive to get to our trailhead for this day. We accidentally turned into the trailhead for The Gulch, another trail I really want to do someday. Michael checked the trail register and saw that some people had complained about a dead cow somewhere along the way. But I still want to go.
We still had a long way to go to get to our trailhead and continued down the steep paved road into a canyon, past a huge monolith, and finally reached our turnoff. We continued along this dirt road for a long way, too (13 miles?); all the roads to other interesting hikes we'll have to go back to do were off to the right. (On this trip we did all of the Escalante hikes I really wanted to do, except for Death Hollow, which we determined would be too difficult.) We passed a lot of trees we thought Ansel Adams would have liked.
At the trailhead there were some of the pesky little gnats we came to know and love, I mean hate, so I put on my nerdy mosquito net hood until Michael and Sam remembered to tell me I didn't need it anymore. Everything looked so clear and bright without the net on my face. This was definitely red rock country.
We followed a well-worn narrow trail from a corral and through the middle of the canyon that eventually turned into Little Death Hollow. There are two Death Hollows in the Escalante area, so this one is called Little Death Hollow to distinguish it from the other Death Hollow. I think it took over an hour of hiking before we reached the neat, narrow part of the canyon.
We figured this canyon must be called Little Death Hollow because of the spooky look of all the deep, round holes carved everywhere, high and low, in the canyon walls. I can just imagine what someone would think of this place if they happened upon it at night, especially if all the holes had a pair of glowing eyes in them! (Okay, I know I watch too much TV, but I didn't take one on this trip.)
This canyon was different from all the slot canyons I'd done before. I'd never seen a canyon this narrow in red rock (sandstone) before, but the walls weren't as incredibly high as those in some of the other slots we did on this trip. With all the holes, though, I think this slot might take the cake for beautiful, weird rock formations.
Eventually we reached a log jam with some pretty yucky looking water underneath. We decided to see if we could get around this (we had stayed clean and dry up to this point) and climbed up on a ledge to the left. By this time we were pros at this kind of stuff, although I always seem to be the slowest and least confident. We walked quite a ways along the ledge and Michael found a place where people had obviously taken running jumps to get across the top of the slot to the other side, which looked like a doable but difficult climb down. Watching Michael stand at the jump-off point, contemplating the climb down, worried me from my vantage point. He was standing on an overhang. It was pretty thick and had obviously been used for that purpose before, but it scared me; sandstone is easy to break. (Okay, I know I'm a worry wart, too.) Our discussion of how to get back into the canyon to continue turned out to be moot, though. My watch alarm went off; it was time to turn around if we wanted to get out of the canyon before dark, so we headed back.
I would like to do this hike again but camp at the trailhead, get a real early start, be prepared for wading, and hike into Little Death Hollow to Horse Canyon and then come out through Wolverine Canyon. Then we'd get to see even more neat stuff! Sam thought it might be nice to camp a couple days and explore all the side canyons, too.
On the way out, we kept an eye out for the big rock with petroglyphs on it that we had missed on our way into the canyon. It turned out to be right next to the trail (on the left side for our return trip) and had a little path up to it. We took pictures and continued back to Michael's minivan.
We decided we were ripe enough to stay at a hotel and get cleaned up this night. We arrived in the town of Escalante too late to eat at a restaurant, though. (There's not much of a selection of either restaurants or hotels, and we kept forgetting that Utah time was an hour later than Arizona time.) I was so tired and the real bed was so comfy that I didn't care about dinner.
We had a nice breakfast at the hotel restaurant and headed off for Bryce Canyon. Once in the park, we went to the Sunset Point parking area and headed down the Navajo Trail.
The Navajo Trail is a loop trail. We had decided to hike down the more interesting looking side, the one with Wall Street (there's a Wall Street at Chiricahua National Monument, too!), continue past the Peekaboo Trail far enough to visit the Twin Bridges, backtrack and hike the Peekaboo Trail (two places named Peekaboo on one trip!) loop, take the Queen's Garden Trail up to Sunrise Point, and then take the Rim Trail back to Sunset Point.
I assume Wall Street is named that because of the high canyon walls on either side of the trail. You wouldn't think there would be any trees deep down there, but there are two very tall, skinny Douglas Firs that are more than 750 years old.
The Twin Bridges are two natural bridges that are right next to each other. There are lots of natural bridge and window formations at Bryce, along with all the hoodoos.
I had never done the Peekaboo Trail before. I highly recommend it! We thoroughly enjoyed the hoodoos and the views along the trail. Sam had a good little pair of binoculars, so we could check out various caves, natural bridges, and neat formations we saw off in the distance, especially on The Wall of Windows.
The Queen's Garden Trail continued through the hoodoos; the trail had a little spur off to the Queen's Garden, which has a hoodoo named Queen Elizabeth because of its appearance. This spur confused Sam and me; we thought we were headed up to Sunrise Point. When we reached the end of the spur, we realized that Michael wasn't as bad at map reading as we thought. We backtracked to the beginning of the spur and headed up to Sunrise Point.
The Rim Trail provides the view of Bryce Canyon that everyone who visits the park sees. From there we could see down into the sea of hoodoos (including one formation appropriately called The Sinking Ship) and off in the distance we could see Escalante's Aquarius Plateau (and Kaiparowits Plateau?).
Pictures of Bryce Canyon don't do it justice; you have to be there to be among and appreciate the abundance of beautiful pink, coral, and white hoodoos. However, we will try to get some photos on the hiking club web page eventually. (I haven't even sent mine in to be developed yet. Shame on me. I probably have 10 rolls or more from this vacation alone. If only I could take decent pictures....)
We headed for the huge metropolis of Hatch, Utah (yes, I'm being sarcastic) for dinner at a Mexican restaurant. I wanted to mail a birthday postcard and asked in the restaurant where I could mail it. The Post Office was the trailer next door.
We decided to camp on the little one mile square of BLM land that intersects 89 just south of Hatch. This is the same place we camped the first night of this trip, but this time we put our tents up in the soft grass right next to the river.
We woke up to the coldest morning yet. Our tents were covered with ice! Quite a contrast to the previous evening, where the pre-sunset temperature was bordering on HOT.
It was a fairly short drive to Cedar Breaks, which had just opened the previous weekend. The visitor center is at 10,400 feet, and the view from the top is reminiscent of Bryce, except with green at the bottom. And white at the top, at least on that day. Yes, snow! Kathy took a picture of me standing shirtless and shoeless in the snow like some arctic Tarzan wannabe. I hope the photo came out. Then again, maybe not. I had to explain to Kathy that we men are a strange breed.
Cedar Breaks had that "not quite ready for tourists" feel; the pay station wasn't manned, the few people there were walking around like zombies (present company excepted, of course), and some of the trails were closed. Actually, there were only two trails, unless you count one that sort of dips into the park. The ranger gave us the go-ahead to take the Lower Something Pond Trail (I knew I shouldn't have waited so long to write this report), but he shouldn't have. There were snowy parts (between the muddy parts) that were deeper than the length of our legs, as we found out the hard way! Even Kathy's legs. The pond was more like a puddle of snow melt. Or, maybe the pond was somewhere else, and what we saw was a puddle of snow melt. Spectacular views would have provided ample compensation, had there been any. It must have been tough to construct a trail in Cedar Breaks without views. Now who was it who INSISTED that we take this hike? Oh yeah, I did.
Back on the road we caught a few more views on the way back, and made the 200 yard trek to a Bristlecone Pine whose age was in the 4 digits (well at least I remember that much). I was compelled to touch it. I hope I didn't kill it. Not that aesthetically it would have been a great loss. I mean, it looked a lot better than I will when I'm that age, but it hadn't grown very big over the years, and what little green was on it occurred in sparse, bottlebrushlike patches. I wouldn't advise planting one for shade, even if you do plan to live to 1000.
Zion, though close to Cedar Breaks, was 100 F when we arrived. No snow here. This was Sam's and my first trip to Zion. As we drove past the steep canyon walls, Kathy commented, "Normally, people are impressed by this." I guess we had been spoiled by the awesome canyons of Escalante.
We set up camp in Springdale, just outside of Zion. It was early afternoon on a Friday, and we knew we had to act quickly before the weekend throngs arrived.
We hiked to the Weeping Wall, which provided much-needed refreshment on the hot day. As usual, Kathy memorized all the signs describing the flora, fauna and geology of the area. Then we went for a 5 hour trip through the Virgin River Narrows. This was one of the highlights of the trip. It was dark in the Narrows, and most of the hiking was in the river, which was rushing hard. We explored a side canyon, and got up to our necks in cold water. At least Sam and I did; Kathy had more sense. We walked back really fast, partly to beat sunset, and partly because we were COLD! Of course there was a wind at our faces to keep us humble and provide additional evaporative cooling (just slow enough to keep us from drying out completely). I tried to reflect on the hundred degree heat a few hours earlier. The previous 24 hours had been a period of incredible contrasts.
That night we had a yummy dinner at a yuppie pasta place in Springdale, and then checked out a gallery of stunning photos of slot canyons and other southern Utah phenomena.
We all managed to get ourselves out of bed at 5 am for a hike up Angel's Landing. It was worth it; we beat the heat AND the crowds. Yours truly was the first of the day to reach the top, passing a group of young whippersnappers on the way up. Not bad for an old man!
The last part of the hike is pretty terrifying. It took almost as long to do the last half mile as the first two. This part is not recommended for those with a fear of heights or, as I'm sure Kathy would point out, those with NO fear of heights. There's one narrow stretch in particular where the walls drop straight down on both sides, and that's followed by another steep impossible-looking climb.
After spending an hour at the top, we started getting used to the height, and the hike down was actually less terrifying than the ascent. In fact, on the narrow stretch, Sam and I noticed that the cars actually looked like cars, as opposed to the little matchboxes we saw from the top. I don't know why the thought of a thousand foot drop would be any more comforting than a 1600 foot drop, but it was.
Back at the campground, we took showers (not that we needed them!), and were packed up and ready to go by 11:00. Yoshi, Chuck and Richard would have been proud of us. Before departing Zion, we grabbed some yummy sandwiches from a yuppie bakery in Springdale. (Get the pattern? If anyone's looking for a good business opportunity, the small towns around the newly-designated Escalante Monument could use a few places like this.)
We arrived at the Wire Pass Trailhead to Buckskin Gulch in early afternoon. This is accessed via 8 miles of slow travel on an unmarked and barely visible dirt road. Kathy suggested that Buckskin may actually be in Arizona.
Kathy promised that there would be gnats during the daylight hours, and she was right. We walked quickly toward the slot canyon (gnat-free zone) to avoid being carried off. We were surprised to see a self-pay box with a sign specifying a $5 fee per person. We thought that was a bit steep, and a lesser fee would be more amenable to an "honor system" but decided we'd pay before leaving the next morning. We certainly weren't going to walk back through gnatville right then to get money out of our cars.
We hiked about 5.5 miles before turning around. We saw interesting rock formations and petroglyphs, and incredible slots. It was cool, and the walls were steep and full of funky geology art-- Mother Nature's creative rampage. Elliptoid indentations in the rocks made for nifty sound tricks.
We tried to time our exit from the slots to coincide with sunset and thus avoid the gnats. It worked. We set up camp at a quiet spot up the hill, and stared at the stars and planets and satellites for at least an hour before retiring for the night.
The morning started peacefully enough, but as the sun came out, so did the gnats. I'm sure it would have been comical to watch the way they chased us out of the campsite. Since we were about to embark on the long journey home, we started off by breaking camp and packing the car extra carefully. But with the invasion of gnats, we went faster and faster, with Kathy fanning the swarms as I haphazardly rolled up the tent. I threw the tent in the back of the van, slammed it shut and the three of us made a mad dash into the van and took off, windows open, fans blowing, flying along the bumpy dirt road until the beasts decided that they had gone far enough and that it was time to return to their little gnat homes.
Then we realized that we had forgotten to pay the fee for the previous hike. Scofflaws! Blame it on the gnats.
On the way home we stopped at Water Holes Canyon for a last, brief hike. This is on Navajo land just south of Page, AZ. Again, there was a sign indicating that we had to pay a fee, only this time, we were supposed to backtrack to Page and take a couple of remote roads to some trailer to pick up the permits. Kathy was at the trailhead two weeks earlier, and the sign hadn't been there. After some discussion, we decided to do it the official way, and actually managed to locate the trailer/office, which was closed. So we went back to Water Holes. Kathy didn't want to take any chances, so she opted to stay in the car while Sam and I took a half hour hike. Scofflaws again, but at least we had done everything we could to get permits.
The canyon is a narrow slot that would be very easy to drive by if you didn't know exactly where it was. Once you've climbed to the bottom you can proceed either left or right. Since right had the remains of a car wedged in it with a 10 foot drop behind it (how would we get back up?), we opted for left. We briefly explored the main canyon, and a narrow crack/slot off to the side before returning to the car. On the way back, most of the sole came off my boot and twice I tripped and nearly plummeted into the canyon. These were the Merrills that I had owned for 10 years and was bragging about throughout the trip. This was our last hike, so the timing was good, anyway.
Sam is going to look into getting the permit for Water Holes by mail for future trips. Good idea.
We drove home through stunning Indian Country. We missed the ham radio antics of Chuck and Richard that had kept us in stitches the whole ride up, but managed to amuse ourselves with the help of Pink Floyd and Garrison Keillor.