Pete and nine of his friends enjoyed another successful spring pilgrimage to the desert southwest. This time, the destination was Buckskin Gulch on the Utah/Arizona border.
A narrow slot known as Wire Pass provides access to the upper portion of Buckskin Gulch. This side canyon is less than a mile long, and it becomes quite constricting in places. As we were winding our way down, I heard someone yell, “Hey Lee! Turn around, and I’ll take your picture.” After a brief pause, the response came back, “I can’t.”
Glowing canyon walls
Upon reaching the confluence with Buckskin, we milled about waiting for everybody to make it through Wire Pass. Some took pictures, others admired the Anasazi petroglyphs, but Marty was eager to keep moving through the canyon. “Which way do we go from here?”, he said. “I think we go right, let’s just look at the map to be sure… yep we go right.”
When events were subsequently pieced together, it was determined that Marty evidently interpreted the word “right” to mean “left”. He happily walked in the wrong direction for more than a half mile before we caught up with him. So, we now know that it is indeed possible to get lost in a slot canyon.
The canyon walls frequently closed in so we could easily touch both sides at the same time. The rock twisted and turned and arched above us to block out the sky, and our route felt more like a cave than a canyon. Occasionally, when the angle was just right, the sunlight would penetrate all the way to the canyon floor to bring out the orange and red colors in the rock.
The muddy pools of water felt awfully cold, and after some especially long and deep sections, our legs and feet were on the verge of numbness. Those of us at the back of the pack were alerted to upcoming pools when we heard the moaning and groaning echoing off the canyon walls. Debris swept down by flash floods sat suspended above us at regular intervals. It was unbelievable to see some logs lodged 50 feet above our heads.
Somewhere around mile 10, a foul odor made itself known as we trudged through the loose sand of the canyon floor. John’s suggestion was that “someone must’ve had garlic for lunch.” As we rounded a corner, however, the real source of the smell became apparent. A dead cow lay sprawled across the path, having fallen from above.
Further down, we came to a place where the canyon was obstructed by large boulders, wall to wall. We found a secret passage, between the rocks, that was small enough for a person to squeeze through, but not with a backpack on. Fortunately, we were prepared for this possibility, and used a rope to lower all of the backpacks over the obstruction.
By this time, we were all tired of hiking and had no trouble believing that we had just walked through the longest slot canyon in the world. Later that evening, at our camp near the confluence with Paria Canyon, we enjoyed Mexican Night, complete with margaritas and ice! As darkness fell, Scott played his flute, and the kokopellian rhythms echoed off the towering canyon walls.
The following morning, we left our packs at the confluence, and hiked for a ways down Paria Canyon. Although not nearly as narrow as Buckskin, Paria is very beautifull in its own right. We met a few people that were doing the thru-hike all the way down to Lee’s Ferry. We were compelled to see what was around the next bend, then the next, and the next. It was hard to finally turn around and head out.
Upon retrieving the vans, we took an auto tour of the surrounding countryside. We stopped at the “Dam Bar and Grill” near Glen Canyon Dam, and camped at Lee’s Ferry. The following day took us into Zion National Park, and we made the obligatory hike up Angel’s Landing.
All of us agreed that it was great to get away from the cold, wet, Seattle weather for a few days.
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