The sun has dipped below the ridgetop and we finally have some relief from the relentless sun. These days the temperature swings from the low 50’s at night to low 90’s during mid-afternoon. We’ve taken to rising early, getting a morning activity in, resting or driving until later afternoon, and then hiking again into early evening. There is still a golden reflection off the Navajo Sandstone cliffs above our camp on the bank of Calf creek as I write this.
Here in the Grand Staircase National Monument, the distances are deceiving, as there is no item in the landscape by which to judge distance. Hikes we think should take one hour take three. Ridges we think are 1,000 feet high turn out to be much smaller once we approach. Only the size of the majestic and well weathered cottonwood trees give things away when they are within our view. The sandy soil leaves clues as to the previous evenings activities with deer, kangaroo mice, desert hare, centipedes, lizard, and coyote tracks visible especially by the creek’s side. The swallows chirp and swoop around their Cliffside airy mud nests, and there are many other interesting birds calling from the woodland – we just can’t seem to identify them properly. The silence and openness of the landscape is very soothing, and we often hike wordlessly for long periods of time, listening to the wind, the birds, the babble of streams, and the rustle of darting creatures in the underbrush. We are slowly learning how to travel in this park. There are fairly well graded dirt roads, sometimes marked, sometimes, not leading off from the main 2-lane road that runs along the park’s northern boundary. We drive down one of these roads to a fairly recognizable landmark, park the car, and amble off up some sandy wash or streambed, or gorge. The paths are not formally maintained or marked, but in this desert soil, tracks are not easily hidden. Today while exploring up one such drainage, we had to cross the stream countless times without the benefit of bridge, or log, or sizable rocks. We just waded in, with stick in hand to probe the depth of the channel, as we inched our way across. Even though the air temperature is hot, the water is remarkably cold – evidence that its source is from below ground, or some much higher elevation. For me each crossing was a challenge, as my ankles began to get painful and ache from the cold about mid-channel. We drove down the “Burr Trail” which was not really a trail, but a coarsely paved road following the bottom of a deep sandstone gorge. Towering brown and orange buttresses rose on both sides of the road with alluvial fan deposits of coarse sand and stone coming right to the shoulder. The gorge bottom was often no wider than 20 yards. This road continues south to the far end of the park, crossing the waterfold pocket– some significant geographical feature we as of yet have not found a description or photo of. The “trail” terminates in Capital Reef National Park near the shores of Lake Powell, where the Escalante river joins the Colorado. We can’t seem to get good information on how rough the road is at its terminating end, so we turn around and head back north.
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