Rest day in Tropic, September 29th As rest days go, it has been a pretty restful one. Dustin, the co-owner of the Bryce Canyon Inn offered the use of his truck if I cared to cruise around. I took him up on his offer and headed out to Kodachrome Park to check it out, but also (and more importantly) to talk with Grandma Ott about her time in the region and her relationship with the landscape that her family has been involved in for 4 generations...nearly 150 years. In Cannonville (~4 miles south of Tropic) I stopped at the Visitor Center to read some interpretive signage about the area and check out some maps. The displays were nicely done, simple, and informative. Nice to see the BLM doing a good job with the `people component' of monument management. I arrived shortly to Kodachrome, paid my $5, and headed out
to see Shakespeare Arch and Chimney Rock. I suppose it could have also been that these `wonders' were so easily accessed via a vehicle, that perhaps undermined their perceived value in my mind. Whatever the case, I left with an appreciation for the sights, but little connection. Like many places in the New West -- whether monuments, state/national parks -- they often have a pre-packaged experience vibe to them...evidence I fear of the downward spiral towards the outdoors becoming a `consumerable amenity' for our culture. The basic appreciation of open land for the sake of open land being replaced by land having to have an entertaining or amusement oriented purpose to give it value. Not good. Anyway, just down the road I stopped in to visit with Grandma Ott. She was busy cleaning the cabins, but still talked to me for about a half hour. I enjoyed hearing her perspective about the landscape, the Grand Staircase-Escalante Monument, and the changing face of the West. One theme that has been consistent in talking with ranchers and others in the area is their absolute disdain for ATV riders that do not stay on designated roads. I headed back to Tropic after our chat, stopping briefly at the Cannonville Cemetery to look at old headstones. I find cemeteries in small towns interesting as they provide further depth and context for a respective community. When I returned to the Bryce Canyon Inn, I got to meet Dustin's brother who manages the Paria Plateau (and other areas) as a BLM employee based out of St. George. It was great to talk with someone knowledgeable about that area, as most folks have no idea. It is currently muzzle-loader season for deer, and he was in Tropic after a hard day of deer hunting. The rest of the afternoon was spent loafing about, elevating the legs, and eating. I cannot say enough good things about my experience here in Tropic. In my miles of trail hiking, I cannot think of ever getting to a place and NOT having a person asking me "Why?" when they hear about long distance hiking and my current trip. Maybe the folks here are just not interested, but I believe they understand the need to be in open space and the desire to be in the landscape, interacting, and living simply. They understand the need for solitude, independence, and freedom from common constraints. Despite our different approaches to achieving it, we seem to share a common ground of appreciation. That has been a refreshing conclusion to come to and recognize, and one much different than I've experienced with `recreationalists' that you'd think I'd be able to relate to. Again, I think it relates to a developed an complex land ethic, as opposed to looking at the landscape as an amenity for entertainment or amusement. Not a spiritual thing, but rather a deep sense of familiarity and appreciation for something that you know plays a central role in your life and perhaps your identity. Certainly a deeper connection than a simple walk in the woods. Anyway, thank you Dustin and Cecilie Ott for the hospitality and conversation. Tomorrow I head out towards Escalante, ~100 miles of narrow canyons, open washes, and a high desert peak thrown in for good measure. Brian September 30th I hung out in Tropic until just after lunch...one more salad to eat. Before I left I was fortunate to meet another of Dustin's relatives, Jack Chynoweth. Jack has lived his entire life in the Bryce Valley, and his father was born (1894) in the town of Paria which is now a ghost town. He was great to talk to and I asked him to look over my maps and suggest any routes, or point out any sites he knew along the way. Like most folks that know a region well, he had a different name for everything that was on the map, and each canyon or spring he described would turn into a story. Pretty cool to visit with him. I eventually managed to leave town and started out on the road walk to get me to Willis Creek Trailhead for the evening. Half was paved, half was dirt. Not to bad, and a good way to break in the new shoes. I will say that the Hayduke is exceptionally rough on footwear. The pair of lightweight hikers (heavier than what I normally use) that I am wearing would easily get 500-700 miles on the AT, PCT, or CDT. Last pair was happily retired at mile 476, and probably could have been replaced 100 miles sooner. The combination of heat, water, and generally abrasive terrain definitely accelerates the wear. Anyway, my feet are much happier and I hope this pair lasts until the end --- I guess they will have to since I do not have another pair in a upcoming resupply. I was expecting to see some other people at the trailhead this evening seeing as it is Friday, and was not proven wrong -- Bruce from Salt Lake City, and two college kids from Flagstaff. Bruce took some photos and then headed out while the youngsters headed into Willis Creek with 45 min of daylight and no maps. Although I was tempted to make some comment on the youngsters plan, they gave me some grapes and an orange so I kept my mouth shut. Brian The Paria, October 1st
Despite making an attempt to find some petroglyphs on the walls of Willis, I somehow missed them. I started down Sheep Creek following the tracks of ATV's, meandering below some very impressive white cliffs...much like the hike up Park Wash a week ago, but narrower. It made for a very pleasant morning. Shortly I came to the confluence of the Paria and continued downcanyon. Bull Valley Gorge, a large side canyon of the Paria came into view in a bit, and I dropped the pack for some side canyon exploration. I would continue with these excursions throughout the day --- exploring five canyons of different width and length. In the early afternoon I came upon Crack Spring (which is not mentioned in the Hayduke Guide), which is a piped spring flowing strong and cool directly from the red sandstone wall. On the surrounding cliffs are a number of old cowboy-glyphs as well as less significant modern scribbling's.
The remainder of the afternoon was quite pleasant as I continued down the Paria and the occasional side canyon. The Paria is really quite a canyon system. One could certainly spent awhile exploring all its nooks and crannies. I have spent some time in the lower sections of the Paria, but I'd have to say the upper Paria is every bit its equal --- other than the lower portion is protected from our motorized friends. It be great to have a continuous wilderness canyon corridor from the Bryce Valley all the way to the Grand Canyon... Camp tonight is a few miles past Kitchen Canyon. A physical day today as I was either walking directly in the water, slipping in mud, or struggling through the sand. A warm breeze is blowing from the south, so I am sure I'll wake with plenty of sand in my ears, nose, and mouth...par for the course on the Hayduke! ~22 miles Brian Hackberry Canyon,
October 2nd Down the Paria I continued, crossing and re-crossing the silty flow of water countless times through the morning. After a few miles the familiar whir of rotor wash could be heard
as a helicopter came cruising downcanyon, only ~150 ft above
the canyon floor. Eventually Cottonwood Wash joined the Paria, and I swung a left and headed up the shady streambed, a flock (14) of turkeys casually crossing ahead of me. Cottonwood Wash certainly lives up to its name as it is lined with its namesake. Galleries of old cottonwood trees are getting scarce in Southern Utah, so this was a real treat. After a few miles of walking, a slight, but steady flow of water emerged from canyon left before disappearing into the sands of Cottonwood Wash. This flow marked my entrance into Hackberry Canyon.
A little tired of walking in the water, I wacked my way through the willows and climbed to the sage covered bench lands. The walking was not much better, but I did appreciate the open views to the canyon rim, and the cobalt skies above me. A strong south wind kept me cool.
After lunch I continued upstream, pushing through sage and bashing through willows for most of the afternoon. Mid-afternoon I did explore one side canyon with a unique pouroff and climbed to a few alcoves as well. Not much wildlife during the day other than hawks, and loads of turkey tracks. The canyon did begin to narrow up a bit in the late afernoon, and I was forced to walk directly in the water again. Fortunately, as I neared the last spring, the water depth was minimal so I was able to keep my feet dry. Although I have no idea what a healthy desert canyon ecosystem is supposed to look like, it seems Hackberry would most likely qualify. I saw very few of the invasive tamarisk, and signs of cattle were minimal. As such, willow grew along the creekbed in thick clusters, along with a variety of grasses and forbs, all of which enjoyed the shade of the cottonwoods on the flood banks. I even noticed some small fish in the lower sections of the creek where the flow was stronger. About a 1/2 mile short of the spring I stopped and filtered enough water for the next 2 days of hiking...~48 miles to Escalante, my next known water source. I also decided to cook and hydrate before pushing on to better conserve the water I needed to carry. The flow was so minimal I dug a hole and created a small dam across a portion of the creekbed. After letting the pooled water settle, I'd fill my cookpot which I'd then pour into the bag of my gravity filter. After waiting for the pool to refill, I repeated the process until I had collected ~3 gallons for the upcoming miles, and drank an additional gallon for the evening. Once that chore was complete I cooked dinner but only ate half, saving the rest to eat at my camp. After breaching my dam to the dismay of the recreating water skippers, I heading off again with a full pack and it was not long before the creekbed was completely dried up. As such, the canyon was no longer lined with vegetation, but open and easy to navigate.
Camp tonight is beneath a juniper on a sandy hillock, a good distance above the wash. ~20 miles Brian Round Valley Draw, October 3rd Another surprisingly warm evening. Awoke and got hiking up Hackberry Canyon. More of the same as the previous days walk...stunning multi-colored cliffs. Desert canyon walking at its finest! After a few hours I came to the junction of Hackberry and Round Valley Draw which was my exit. Round Valley Draw narrowed up immediately as I swung into the canyon corridor. Walking along its cobbled floor, I was thinking what I love so much about the western landscape: its vast scale, contrasted with pockets of intimacy scattered throughout its topography...really the last thing you'd expect staring out over the landscape. The perfect dichotomy. Continuing up Round Valley Draw the canyon continued to narrow. Then it got narrower. Then, it somehow managed to get even more narrow...just the width of my shoulders despite rising hundreds of feet towards the sky. At a few spots it was necessary to remove my pack to heave it over a few chockstones, while slowly sinking in mud.
Before I tried it with the pack, I scurried up the exit to make sure it was within my range of ability, and then climbed back down to retrieve my loaded pack. I was not comfortable wearing the pack and climbing up, so I hauled the pack in front of me...hoisting it up as I climbed up, setting my feet, and then hauling the pack up again. After doing this a few times I was able to wedge the pack in a groove, climb around the pack to the top, and then with one final pull, hauled the pack to the rim of the pour off. Upon reaching the rim, the first thing I noticed was the wind blowing hard from the south. Really hard. At least the remainder of my route for the day would have the wind at my back. My calves would have to make due with the scouring from the windblown sand. After taking a short break I headed up the wash, then intersected a jeep trail which I followed to Cottonwood Road. The Hayduke turns right at this junction and heads off into the Kaiparowits Plateau. My route turns left and heads up near Canaan Peak to eventually drop me right into the town of Escalante for my resupply. From my understanding the founders of the Hayduke did this same route in early (1998?) recon hikes.
Horse Canyon is a nice walk. A few old remnants of bygone mining days (stove, ore sledge), no footprints, and good shade made for a pleasant afternoon. As I headed the drainage I intersected an ATV trail which I followed past some No Trespassing signs to the lower flanks of Canaan Peak and my camp for the evening. Trying to get out of the wind I found a nice clearing below a Ponderosa Pine which is encircled by a dense stand of Scrub Oak...can't go wrong with pine duff! Temps are quite cool as I am back up at ~8,200 ft for the evening. ~22 miles Brian Into Escalante, October 4th Again, to my surprise, another warm evening! I guess these south winds keep temps moderate even at elevation. Headed off hiking under overcast and windy skies towards a high point just off the flank of Canaan Peak. This area is littered with new roads (at least newer than the info on my maps) and I was in a state of confusion from the get go. I'd follow a road that was in the general vicinity of where I wanted to be and it would either just stop, or lead me to more Private Property signs. Growing frustrated, I decided to get to the high point and decide on a course of action based on what I could see and confirm on my maps. Meanwhile, the winds continued to blow, and a few sprinkles began. From my vantage at the high point, I could easy discern the forks of Waheap Creek below me, as well as the pink cliffs of Canaan Peak above. Trails supposedly existed near the peak and also in the drainage...both of which were about the same distance and elevation (gain or loss) from where I stood. I tend towards always taking the higher of two potential routes, and in this case I followed suit, despite climbing up into potentially worse weather and having more of a bushwack to get where I wanted to be.
The views south from ~9000 ft were fantastic as I could see a large portion of the Kaiparowits Plateau as well as Bryce, and much of the terrain I'd spent the last few days traversing. In a short time I descended to Horse Spring Canyon where I discovered more unmapped roads, a few full cattle troughs, and no sign of the pack trail I was hoping to follow. Besides that, the skies finally opened up and a short, intense rain and hail storm ensued. My mood and body now dampened, I decided to just head down Horse Spring Canyon for a while until an obvious notch, and then continue cross country, contouring out of the creekbed to a road that I had intended to join earlier. Along the way I passed more full cattle troughs, as well as road sign #679 which was directly in the wash. Unfortunately no road bore that # on my maps, so again, I was bit perplexed. I think this area has so many roads due to Clinton's declaration of the Grand Staircase National Monument. Fearing massive road closures once the designation went into affect, I'd heard rumors that many locals in southern Utah towns fired up their tractors and made sure that things looked to be in a `pre-existing' state so their `roads' would get inventoried as such. After talking with locals thus far, it sounds like little did change (other than more tourist $) with the designation and all those personal grading projects were for not. Anyway, my maps were not up to pace with the locals efforts. After an hour or so of walking in the drainage, I happened upon
the notch, and contoured around along a road (again, surprise!)
that meandered in roughly the direction I wanted to go. The rest of the afternoon was spent walking along a lonely road, checking out the sites, watching ravens, and getting some really bad songs stuck in my head. The weather was on the cool side, the skies had since cleared, but the wind was a steady companion.
Anyway, I'll be taking a rest day in Escalante tomorrow as I am a bit ahead of schedule and will be meeting my friend and hiking co-conspirator Brandt for the next section of trail. ~23 miles Brian Rest Day in Escalante, October 5th A slight change of plans to report. Brandt has come up with a really great alternative to my original Hayduke alternative route, so tomorrow I'll head out of town via the Escalante River corridor instead of a dirt road walk along the Hole `n the Rock Road where I was originally going to rejoin the Hayduke Trail in Coyote Wash. The guidebook described Hayduke Trail enters the Escalante at Coyote Wash and then heads upcanyon for 20+ miles of walking in the river until reaching Middle Moody Canyon. Personally I have no desire to walk that much of the Escalante... too much bushwhacking, and too much other spectacular terrain to ignore. This spring, during the Hayduke Trail founders thru-hike (westward) attempt, they actually floated this section in packable boats! Brandt's route will add ~4 days to my itinerary, but that is no big deal -- more tasty desert terrain to drink in, and in good company. So, in a nutshell we'll be hiking a portion of what is referred to as The Overland Route, dubbed so by Steve Allen who is a guidebook author for the Colorado Plateau. Basically the route is semi-technical and stays above the Escalante River, crossing canyons and drainage's without ever descending to the river...at least that is the theory. At one point we will cross the Escalante to swing around to join the Hayduke (as originally planned) at Coyote Wash. The second portion of this route is to head into Steven's Canyon, exit via the historic Baker Trail and drop into the site of the old Baker Ranch (1912) which is normally submerged by Lake Powell. From this point we will head up Halls Creek and rejoin the Hayduke at the base of Red Slide before heading into Lower Muley Twist Canyon. Anyway, for those following along with map in-hand and possible hiking plans, I'd thought I mention the new route. I am really looking forward to the route and the next 14 days of hiking as the coming days promise to be challenging, incredibly scenic, and a bunch of fun with Brandt's company. Brian
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Headed
out in the cool morning and made my way down through Willis Creek
and its few sections of narrows. Water flowed the entire length
of the creek until joining up with Sheep Creek. 
While
I was eating and drinking I heard the unmistakable whine of machines
in the distance. Shortly a slew of ATV's and a few motorbikes
came crashing and splashing directly up the Paria. Instead of
letting it spoil my afternoon, I just imagined Grandma Ott on
horseback (much like Abbey's one-eyed cowboy), high on the canyon
rim with an old Winchester in hand, taking aim on the front tires
of each machine and calmly pulling the trigger, reloading, and
repeating 8 times until the canyon was once again quiet. By the
time my imaginative scenario played itself out, the riders, their
stench, and their noise had vanished up canyon.
The
canyon walls quickly rose to hundreds of feet as I followed the
flowing water upcanyon. The streambed was lined with willow, cottonwood,
and what I assumed was Hackberry. The canyon kept a pretty narrow
profile for a few miles and then broaded --- benches now rising
as an intermediary between water and cliff.
Once
my allergies kicked in I descended back to the creekbed, and in
doing so, came upon a long abandoned cabin. Most of the structure
was still intact, the chimney still stood, and the roof was still
in place. The front door had been removed, but leaned against
the north wall inside. The remaining soil roof was even supporting
some cactus life. The oldest inscription I could find was 1921,
but "Chynoweth" was carved above the door --- perhaps
this was one of Jack's fathers cabins?
The
walls of this portion of Hackberry Canyon are gorgeous... streaked
sandstone of varying hues. Hard to sum up for a hack trail- journalist,
but quite stunning.
After
a 1/4 mile of such obstacles, I was getting a bit fatigued! Shortly
I came to the final barrier between the narrow canyon floor and
the blue-skied world above: a 15 ft climb up a near-vertical sandstone
pour off. A stout juniper branch had been wedged (by person or
by water?) into the sand at the foot of the climb to conveniently
give me a leg up. 
A
mile of road walking brought me to a junction and I headed along
the Slickhorn Bench. Upper Round Valley Draw dropped off to my
right, while Big Dry Valley and the colorful cliffs of Bryce Canyon
were on my left. I continued along a dirt road that began to drop
towards Horse Canyon. Not wanting to descend quite yet (the views!)
I continued along the flat, juniper filled ridgeline for a few
more miles before dropping down to join the canyon. 
Eventually
though, despite whacking my way through oak thickets and negotiating
steep slopes, I came to the base of Canaan Peak and easily found
the pack trail denoted on the map. Elated at making a good navigational
decision, I sped off, trying to lose some elevation before the
bulk of what looked to be a nasty storm decided to arrive. 
By
mid-afternoon I joined Smoky Mountain Road which in another ~10
miles brought me to Escalante. The last few miles were tough as
I was walking into the wind and the blowing, swirling sand it
carried. Fatigued, I was getting blown all over the road...my
footprints zigging an zagging like those of a wandering drunk.
