Few People Can Go Here, and We Like it That Way

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In 1957 writer and naturalist Edward Abbey spent a summer as a ranger in what is now Arches National Park.

At the time, few people know about the place and even fewer visited, so Abby had long days to explore the stark emptiness of the desert.

He turned that experience into his most famous book, Desert Solitare.

These days, he wouldn’t find any solitare in any of Utah’s National Parks, Arches included.

The deserts in between are another story.

Grand Staircase Escalante National Monument

For early explorers, south central Utah was a vast unknown.

It was the last part of the continental United States to be mapped, and it contains the last river systems to be discovered.

Roads were not built in most of this area until the 1930s, and some were not paved for fifty years afterwards.

For a long time, it was visited mostly by local ranchers and hardy outdoorsmen.





All that changed in the mid 1980s.

The Kaiparowits Plateau in the center of the region contains one of the largest coal deposits in the state.

Nobody ever mined it because it was too remote to be profitable.

When Andalex Resources announced a plan to create a mine, it set off a huge debate pitting local residents and state mining interests (who dominate state government) against an unlikely coalition of environmentalists and ranchers.

Surprisingly, just before leaving office President Clinton used the Antiquities Act (see Ancient Civilization) to declare the entire area a national monument in 1996.

Utah Senator Orrin Hatch called it “the biggest land grab in US history”.

Grand Staircase-Escalante is still a little visited area, with rough trails located along difficult dirt roads, and no visitors’ services.

Those with the skills to explore safely love it for just these reasons.





The monument requires considerable skill and experience.

Just getting to the trailheads is a challenge, driving dirt roads whose quality is rather questionable to say the least.

Visitors are truly on their own here, with no ability to get help.

If something goes wrong, they won’t be found for days.

Before setting off, hikers should get a free permit from the trailhead box.

They are required so the rescue squads know where to start looking.

This desert kills those not prepared for its hazards, without hesitation or mercy.

Those who can handle it experience something rare, the chance to be alone as Edward Abby once was in a world of stark beauty.





The monument contains a large number of things to see.

Today, I decided on Willis Creek.

Before heading there I went to the monument ranger station in Cannonville for information, road conditions, and water.

If this does not sound staggeringly obvious, Grand Staircase-Escalante is not the place to go.

Now supplied, off I went.

Skutumpah Road

The trailhead to Willis Creek lies off Skutumpah Road.

It’s a maintained dirt road, where “maintained” means someone runs a bulldozer over it every few months.

It’s rutted in some places, washboarded in many others, fords washes, and climbs steep hills.

The condition report called it “rough but passable”.

Needless to say, most monument visitors want it that way.

I drove it, in a car with a shiftable transmission and traction control.





Immediately after leaving pavement, the road fords Yellow Creek wash.

If this one is wet, turn around because it gets much worse.

Afterwards, the road climbs a ridge with a fifteen degree slope on gravel.

This is the perfect setup to get my car stuck.

I did the entire thing in first gear with steady pressure on the gas, sure that if I stopped at any point I wouldn’t be able to make it.

Once on the ridge, the road shows a big view of the surrounding area, including the hoodoos of Bryce Canyon in the distance.

The road crosses the bush covered ridge without a sign of civilization in sight.





The road descends into a valley and reaches something nasty.

It crosses the base of a small flood control dam on Sheep Creek.

It then has to ford the spillway at the far end.

A stream flows from this spillway, creating a nice diagonal rut across the road with soft mud on either side.

Cars can slide or get stuck here.

Even better, the crossing occurs roughly one inch from the top of a twelve foot cliff (with a nice little waterfall on it)!

I parked the car and studied this one.

I ultimately put the car in first gear, got as close to the cliff edge as I dared, and then drove a tight S pattern so I took the stream rut head on.

I got through.





Past that crossing, the road covers more scrub filled desert.

It reaches a big ravine, drops down the side on a series of gravel filled switchbacks, crosses the dry wash at the bottom, and then climbs another set.

I took this one slow and steady.

It then reaches the side of another valley and drops into it.

This stretch of road had some nasty ruts, plus a stretch where the side of the road had washed away.

The rest was washboard.

At the valley floor, the road followed the stream for a ways, a wide but shallow sheet of water.

The road then turned to reveal a wide and muddy crossing.

I thankfully didn’t have to try it, because a parking lot appeared on the right just beforehand.





The only sign of humanity here is a large signboard reading ‘Willis Creek’.

Underneath it has a small billboard listing all the hazards of hiking out here, plus the lovely reminder that people die in the monument every year thanks to lack of preparation.

It also mentions that rescue, if any, is a long ways away.

I personally think that if anything on this sign is not incredibly obvious, people should just turn around.

I am now very alone in the desert, both incredibly thrilling and a little bit frightening.

Willis Creek Slot Canyon

I started the hike walking downstream along the streambed.

It’s quite wide at this point, with lots of little pebbles, and shallow mud near the stream.

This riparian environment appears often in the southwest desert, where soil gets flooded during storms and then dries out afterwards.

Some of the wave patterns in the mud are pretty cool.





The stream reaches an area of flat sandstone with lots of little grooves in it.

The stream flows over the sandstone for a bit and then disappears into a groove about two inches wide.

Soon afterward the groove has gurgling noises.

Looking in shows the stream dropping over a series of cascades within the crack, ultimately creating a slot a foot wide and six feet deep.

Willis Creek clearly erodes the stone with every rainstorm, creating a slot canyon.

This answers the question I had back at Antelope Canyon (see Long, Empty, Glorious Southwest), why the stream eroded through the sandstone to create a slot canyon instead of simply flowing around it.





To proceed any further, I need to get into that canyon, and it clearly can’t be done here.

I started hiking along the upper edge across the sandstone.

I finally reached the dry wash of a side creek.

It steeply cascades into the canyon holding Willis Creek, through a crack about two feet wide.

It’s steep and filled with rocks, but passable with careful scrambling.

I made it to the bottom, a slot canyon about six feet high and three feet wide.





Slot canyons are among the most beautiful, and some of the most deadly, features in the southwest deserts.

Wavy colored walls close in so tightly it feels like there is no place to move.

They are covered in mesmerizing swirling patterns, caused by rocks caught in the water flow.

They are also deadly, because a single rainstorm miles from the canyon will fill it with water, making it an inescapable deathtrap.

Before entering any slot, hikers must get the weather forecast; any predicted rain anywhere in the area will cancel the hike.

I got the forecast back in the ranger station, for a glorious day with not a cloud in the sky.





At first glance, Willis Creek is a less impressive version of Upper Antelope Canyon.

The walls are tan and grey instead of red.

They also rise to just above my head, unlike the cave-like walls of Antelope.

Willis Creek also flows mostly in a straight line unlike Antelope’s twists and curves.

After some reflection, the major advantage of Willis Creek sticks out: I’m alone in this desert beauty.

I saw Antelope Canyon at one of the best times of day to do so, and still had to share it with a dozen plus people.

This canyon would get lots more visitors if it was easy to access, and that horrible road ensures they don’t.

I LIKE this canyon.





The canyon heads downstream from the junction.

Wavy walls with swirling patterns stretch into the distance.

The canyon is low enough to see that the canyon rim is wavy as well.

Thanks to the relatively low height, bits of green slope are visible above the canyon.





I quickly discovered that staying dry on this hike will be impossible.

The stream reaches from wall to wall, creating little muddy pools.

I quickly gave up and just waded through.

My boots are waterproof.





The canyon finally ends, opening up into a wide ravine covered in desert scrub.

While hiking in the water is no longer an issue, this stretch is completely exposed.

I have traded a potential soaking for potential sunburn.

A rough sand trail descends the right wall here.

It goes back to the parking lot, to bypass the initial descent into the canyon.

People who take it miss something special.

The valley, in contrast to the canyon, is rather dull.





Thankfully, the valley reaches another sandstone hillside.

The creak heads right in, creating another beautiful slot eight feet high.

It looks like the last one, swirl covered beauty so close I can touch both walls at once.

Here, alone, the canyon mesmerizes, drawing me on to experience all I can.

Despite being much better in the looks department, the crowds mean Upper Antelope Canyon will never have the same effect.





This canyon of Willis Creek is pretty short.

On the far side, the creek once again opens into a wide valley of desert scrub.

The streambed really spreads out here, with groups of little rocks, shallow mud pools, and striking wave patterns in the soil.

The valley goes for quite a distance, so hikers can be forgiven for thinking the show is over.

They’d be wrong.





The creek reaches another sandstone area.

It then drops straight into a ten foot slot canyon in the middle, a waterfall.

Waterfalls are the bane of slot canyon hikes, and usually require technical equipment to get around.

In this case, it was much easier.

The sandstone section occurs on the edge of the valley.

The left side is a steep wall where falls would be painful, but the right side is flat.

A well worn scramble path goes through desert scrub along the right side of the slot.

This leads into another rock filled side ravine that descends to the bottom.

From here, I could hike up the slot canyon to the waterfall.

It was very hard to photograph because much fell in deep shadow within the slot.





Beyond the ravine junction, Willis Creek turns into a true desert canyon.

The sandstone walls are roughly ten feet high and at least that far apart.

Higher walls tower beyond them.

The floor is sand, with wildflowers and the occasional pine tree.

As the creek goes on, the walls slowly get higher and closer together.

It’s pretty, but not the real show.





The canyon finally narrows into another slot.

This one features the same wavy gray walls as the last two, but it’s deeper at ten feet.

Like the others, sky and upper canyon features appear above, lessening the effect.

The true feature here is the silence, broken only by the gurgling of the creek.





After a distance, the slot widens out into a regular canyon again, deeper than last time, then narrows again to a slot.

This one is both deep and long.

The only view is the walls of wavy grey rock.

The sun shone directly in, creating beautiful patterns of light and shadow.

This canyon showcases the compelling beauty of slots in full, enveloping hikers in its tight passage until it become all that seems to exist.

Of course, the canyon is also an inescapable trap if the creek rises.

Such is life alone in the desert.





The slot appears to go on forever while in it.

Every step provides another compelling view, every turn urges me on.

Sadly, it does end.

The canyon widened out into just a narrow canyon with tall yellow walls.

They are at least thirty feet high at this point.

A big pine tree grows in this stretch, just reaching the rim.





At first glance, the narrow canyon appears to be a box canyon.

It abruptly ends at a wall of sandstone.

Getting closer, a thin crack appears on the far left corner.

The creek heads right for it, and then enters.

Following brought me to the deepest slot canyon yet.

This one produces the same cave like effect as Antelope Creek, enveloping hikers deep in the earth.

The difference is I was by myself in this one.

This is the experience that Edward Abby wrote about, the overwhelming beauty and solitude of the southwest, the experience that crowds take away.

I’m very thankful that the cruddy roads and long hikes ensure places like this still exist, and I hope that never changes.





The slot is glorious but short.

It opens to reveal a deep sandstone canyon surrounded by cliffs with pine trees on top.

Although not a slot, it’s still pretty narrow.

The canyon starts to meander, passing through many curves.

It then reaches a junction with a side canyon, Averett Creek.

The side canyon becomes a slot quickly upstream.

It looks like a great place to explore, but a six foot dry waterfall blocks the entrance.

This one requires technical climbing equipment.





At this junction, the interesting portion of Willis Creek is basically over.

The canyon becomes pretty wide after this point, filled with desert plants and some pine trees.

It finally ends at another creek, which ultimately drains into the Paria River.

I found it repetitive after a while and turned around.





The only way out of Willis Creek is hiking back to the trailhead.

That can be a prescription for boredom on some hikes, but not in slot canyons!

They are just as beautiful and compelling in the other direction.

They look different too, thanks to the changing shadows.





While hiking the stretch above the waterfall, I encountered something unusual in this part of Grand Staircase Escalante.

I ran into another hiker.

This is the first person I’ve seen since the ranger station this morning.

They, too, are seeing Willis Creek for the first time.

I gave them some pointers on getting around the waterfall.





Driving back is just as hairy as the other direction.

The dam crossing is just as nasty, even though I knew how to get through the ford.

Just before the final descent, the road has a big view of the surrounding area.

Cottonwood Road

I survived Skutumpah Road, so I decided to try another of the area’s dirt roads, Cottonwood Road.

This one is just as bad, filled with lots of little rocks.

It crosses a series of wide valleys and the ridges between them.

The valleys are all filled with desert bushes.

The ridge climbs are steep, although not as bad as Skutumpah.

The valleys all look the same, so I despaired about ever getting anywhere mixed in with concern about the road.





Those valleys hold the source of real difficulty on this road, wash crossings.

Every stream has carved a nice foot deep rut in the valley floor.

For many of them, the road crosses the stream on a culvert.

In places, the streams washed out part of the road, creating a nice maze to twist through to avoid getting stuck.

I then ran into the real hazard, a stream ford.

The stream in question had muddy banks a foot high on either side, which is a prescription for a car trap.

The ranger office back in Cannonville has a picture of this very crossing with a moving truck (!) stuck in it.

Previous drivers thought this crossing was hairy enough they created an unofficial ford just downstream, which is also quite muddy.

I scouted both very carefully, then took the unofficial ford in first gear.

The mud provided just enough traction to get up the bank.





So, what’s worth all the effort to get out here?

The emptiness is great, but I had that back at Willis Creek.

A series of sandstone outcrops appears on the left.

As the road continues, they get closer to the roadway.

The road eventually turns right, and a spur branches off to the closest outcrop.

It ends at a picnic area.

Grosvenor Arch

This picnic area fully illustrates why many local residents think the federal government is insane.

It has concrete picnic tables, pit toilets, and a signboard indicating why the nearest sandstone outcrop is famous.

A paved trail leads from the parking area to the outcrop.

All of this cost money, and it’s located along a dirt road that few people from outside the area can travel.

The area looks remarkably like a pork barrel spending project, and in fact may be one.





The trail to the sandstone outcrop reveals what makes this place worth the drive.

The sandstone contains a natural arch.

This one is almost a perfect hemisphere.

A sandstone pillar drops from the left side of the arch to the outcrop, creating a double arch.

An expedition from National Geographic discovered it in 1947, and called it the most beautiful arch in Utah.

They named it after the magazine’s editor, Gilbert Grosvenor.

The fact that relatively few people see it only adds to its attraction.







The National Geographic expedition explored and named other parts of this area.

My last sight for today is one of them.

Unlike the rest, it’s reachable on pavement, by a spur road just before the Cottonwood road junction.

It leads to an area of colorful rocky pillars.

The original settlers called it Thorny Pasture.

In their article, expedition members called it the Kodachrome Basin, after the world’s first (and newly introduced) color film.

The area is now protected by Kodachrome State Park.

Kodachrome State Park

The visitor’s center describes the unusual geology of the area.

At one point, it was filled with mineral springs, of the type seen at Mono Lake (see The Ancients).

The springs deposited minerals within layers of red and yellow sandstone.

Later on, the sandstone eroded away, revealing the towers.





The park also mentions the source, and ultimate irony, of the name.

They have a copy of the National Geographic article, which is indeed colorful.

For decades, the center sold the park’s namesake.

Sadly, Kodak discontinued the film in 2009, so visitors can no longer buy it at the park.

The display has a cartoon marking the occasion, a ranger replacing the entrance sign with one reading “Digitally Enhanced Pixelated State Park”





A network of trails passes through the columns and surrounding sandstone cliffs.

The shortest, which I hiked, is about a mile.

It passes a series of rounded red sandstone outcrops, with white columns towering above them.

White sandstone cliffs appear above the red outcrops.

Desert plants sit between the outcrops.

This park epitomizes why Utah residents call this part of the state “color country”.





After dark, I drove to Escalante, a town near the head of the namesake river.

It’s even smaller than Tropic and about as dull.

It has no chains, but might as well for the quality of the services on offer.

They’re quite competent, and the steak I had for dinner was pretty good, but nothing worth going out of the way for either.

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Photos

Willis Creek
The Willis Creek slot canyon, deep in Grand Staircase Escalante

Skutumpah Road
Skutumpah Road with the cliffs of Bryce Canyon off in the distance

Dam Spillway Crossing
On Skutumpah Road. Does this look fun?

Willis Creek start
The start of the Willis Creek hike

Sandstone Grooves
Willis Creek drops into a sandstone groove, the start of
the first slot canyon

First Narrows
The first slot canyon along Willis Creek, just downstream of the grooves

Wave patterns
Beautiful wave patterns in the mud along the creek

Second Narrows
The second slot canyon along Willis Creek

Ravine
The ravine after the second slot canyon

Third Narrows
The third slot section of Willis Creek

Willis Canyon
The wider section of Willis Canyon after the third narrows

Fourth Narrows
The glorious fourth slot section of Willis Creek

The canyon's embrace
Hiking deep in the earth within the fourth slot section of Willis Creek

Box Canyon?
Willis Canyon appears to end soon

Fifth narrows
The incredible fifth slot section of Willis Creek

Desert Solitare
Alone deep in a desert beauty

Cottonwood Road
The empty beauty of Cottonwood Road. Note all the washboard

Grosvenor Arch
Possibly the most beautiful natual arch in Utah

Kodachrome Basin
Some of the pillers of Kodachrome Basin