I woke up and peeked outside to a morning radiant. The snow-covered (mostly) ground was a bright white counterpoint to the deep blue sky that held only a few wisps of clouds. “Time to get up everybody.” We had set 10 o’clock as our target hour of departure for the day (Hey! We’re on vacation already!”) and we were actually all ready a bit early. Imagine that! By this time though the sky had filled with some high clouds, but it still promises to be a great day so off we set for the day’s adventures, with the temperature at 29º and rising.
We head out Rt. 12 and drop down to the Bryce Valley, passing through the tiny towns of Tropic and Cannonville. Off to our left the prominent pink face of Powell, festooned with garlands of snow, looms large over the small ranching communities in the valley below it. Powell Point, named for Major Wesley Powell, an early explorer in the southwest (and the first white man to successfully run the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon) is a prominent landmark and can be seen over a wide expanse of the surrounding region.
We creep through Henrieville (40 mph please) and the road takes a turn north, heading straight towards Escalante, our first destination for the day. A short ways past Henrieville, as we’re heading up and out of Bryce Valley, we get a nice view of Powell Point, a little closer now, flanked by the somber-looking Grey Hills. At the top is a vista point - with nice views of Powell Point, Bryce Canyon, and beyond -, but we keep barreling by as we have a long day “scheduled”. The road now meets up with and follows Upper Valley Creek, which at this time of year is barely running with water; most of which is locked into frozen patches of ice scattered about the wide sandbars within it’s course. Right before the creek meets up with the Escalante River, just outside of town, it squeezes the road close to the a cliff, at the base of which are huge pieces that have weathered off from it’s saffron yellow face. As we drive by it we can see arches being formed from this weathering action. Neato keen!
Arriving in Escalante, after about a 50 minute drive, we stop in at the Interagency Ranger Station to check on weather and road conditions. Our primary destination today is Hole-In-The-Rock, a narrow cleft in the wall that rises from the surface of Lake Powell through which Mormon pioneers took a complete wagon train – with extreme difficulty and a multitude of tribulations – many years ago. The road to it is almost 60 miles of gravel, dirt, and bare rock. The friendly woman behind the counter assured us both that the weather was going to be great for the next few days, and that the road to Hole-In-The-Rock was open and in good traveling condition. I bought a few of those picture refrigerator magnets – that’s my current “thing” – and got the phone number of the company that prints them up. You never know?!
We gas and soda up at the Canyon Country Amoco (used to be a Chevron) on the other side of town and head out for Hole-In-The-Rock. The turnoff is only a few miles past the gas station so very soon we are headed south along the same path trod by those hardy souls over a hundred years ago. We start out at a pretty good pace as the road is well-graded and pretty smooth. On our right the Kaiparowits Plateau, also called 50 Mile Bench, rises 2000 feet above us. It will parallel our path today all the way down to Lake Powell. Looking over at it you can see that it is buttressed by massive flanks of stone flowing down and forming a multitude of canyons, some of which allow access up to the top, just waiting to be viewed and explored – some day. The upper parts are speckled with the snow that has fallen here in recent weeks and the effect is like a huge lemon sheet cake frosted with a generous sprinkling of powdered sugar. Last year Paul, Mark, and I explored up on top when we drove Smokey Mountain Rd, where Paul got a flat tire after some “exuberant” driving (see last year’s trip account), from Escalante to Rt. 89 just above Lake Powell.
Off to the left we can see the red rocks of the canyons cut by the Escalante River and its tributaries, an area known for it’s natural beauty and high “exploration quotient”. Beyond that can be seen glimpses of the Waterpocket Fold - the main constituent of Capitol Reef National Park – a huge warp of land running for over a hundred miles north to south. Behind that, about 50 miles away, we can see the snow covered Henry Mountains shining virginally white in the glorious sunshine streaming down upon their mighty peaks, a small range of mountains that rise precipitously over 5000 feet above the surrounding area. There is much to see and do over to our left, but that will have to wait until another time as we have a long drive ahead of us today down to Hole-In-The-Rock.
After a few miles of “nice” driving the road assumes a serpentine character and begins to dip and dive, twist and turn, up, down, around. I have to watch my way more carefully now as sometimes the side of the road has been washed out, leaving as little as half the roadway available for safe passage. We continually cross dry fords which are often comprised of soft sand and almost always rutted, sometimes quite deeply. Good thing I have high clearance! No need for 4WD yet though.
Periodically the road will take us a bit higher and we are afforded some grand views looking left and back as more of the spectacular formations and colors of the adjoining lands come into view. After about 25 miles I see a solitary juniper tree which shakes loose a memory from the cobwebs of my mind. “Hey, I remember that tree.” Sure enough, just beyond is a sign, “Dry Fork – 1.5 Miles”. “That’s where Spooky Gulch and the other slot canyons are.” Two years ago, Mark, Norma, Evie and I came out this way and had a wonderful time climbing and squeezing through some of the dark, narrow, confining slot canyons that can be found out here.
I’m periodically stopping to take pictures as we drive so Mark, who was behind, takes the lead; now it’s my turn to “eat dust”. We cross into Kane County, from Garfield County, and the road condition declines dramatically (I’m not saying it’s a county thing…). “M a n, I r e a l l y, r e a l l y h a t e w a s h b o a r d!” I have to really take it easy now ‘cause we’re just bouncing around the curves. CD player keeps tracking though! It’s not so bad really, and the road will vary from straight and smooth, to straight and washboard, to curvy and flat, to curvy and rutted, but all in all we make good progress.
We pass by Dance Hall Rock which is a huge natural amphitheatre cast in stone and where the Mormon party of pioneers held several dances to revive and restore the spirits of those who were laboriously toiling to make their way down to the Colorado and beyond to set up new settlements. We stop briefly to take a quick look from the trucks, but decide that we’ll wait until the way back before taking a closer gander.
A little ways beyond that as we’re dropping down to cross a canyon that cuts across our way, I see a big stone marker with a plaque embedded in its surface. I pull over to take a look see and find out that the portion of road we just drove carefully down was the scene of Utah State’s 3rd most serious road accident in history. In 1963, just before Glen Canyon Dam was to fill the area with Lake Powell, a troop of scouts was returning from a little foray into the area south of here when their van stalled on the steep uphill and the brakes failed. The vehicle rolled off the side of the road and tumbled down the hill killing, if I recall correctly, 3 adults and 6 scouts. Very sad. The monument was erected 30 years later in their memory.
I’m in the lead now and as I’m driving I see a little dirt road heading off to the side. I make sure that Mark can see what I’m doing and I hang a right onto it. “Time to explore!” We go only a very short way before we come out onto a natural corral cut into the hillside. There are a couple of trailers standing there, empty, and the front of the natural corral has been closed with a fence built from the local timber. It is obviously a place to round up and check and brand and whatever else cowboys do with the cattle grazing up here. No one’s here now of course and we get out to take a closer look.
Mark and Margaret emerge with Limp Bizkit blaring from Mark’s stereo, a huge difference from the Peter Gabriel playing on mine. (Does that mean anything?) It’s a beautiful setting. Aside from the natural convenience I can see why the cowboys have picked this spot to hang out while going about their business. The rocks here are a wonderful red sandstone, smooth and rounded looking, but with a fine grainy texture when looked at more closely. I snap off a few pictures of the interesting “sculptures” to be found here. We tarry for 5-10 minutes, enjoying the respite from the Hole-In-The-Rock Road and to enjoy the ambiance of this natural grotto. Then it’s, “Back to it!”
As I remembered from my last and only time here, we come to a point where the road’s surface is now bare rock and it squeezes through a narrow point with steep dropoffs and big ruts. We get out to scout out the best path to take. In the meantime I clamber up on the rocks above, with tripod in hand, because I remember that the view from up there is pretty cool. And it is. I set up the tripod and proceed to take a panorama series more than 180º around. Mark decides the best way to go and I stay up top to get a few pictures of him navigating his way through the slot. Then it’s my turn. I get in, raise and tilt forward my seat to obtain a better vantage point, and off I go too. I pick my way carefully down the first drop – no biggie. Then I work over to the final big one, decide that I should keep to the right and very slowly drive down. No problem! We’re on our way again.
There are two more “difficult” spots, both uphill, but they give us no problem and very soon we finally arrive at our destination – Hole-In-The-Rock. From the parking area we can see the surface of Lake Powell through the narrow cleft in the massive cliffs that stand so tall here at road’s end. We go over for a closer look and find it hard to imagine anyone getting a single wagon, much less a wagon train through the narrow, rocky, boulder-filled opening – even if lowered individually by rope. Amazing! It’s after 2 so of course it’s time for lunch. Gathering our supply of food and drink we head over to the Hole and set up for a well-deserved rest and nourishment break. We sit there, silently, enjoying our food and drink, soaking in the warmth of the sun – it’s about 50º - and the splendid view all about us. On either side of the Hole the cliffs rise to several hundred feet above our heads. On the left, the sandstone, colored a blend of orange, red and light brown is bereft of vegetation, solid rock. The right side though is topped with the sparse desert vegetation found in the area. Both are “climbable” so after sating our appetites we all set out to explore.
I head off to the right side because last time I climbed up on the left side. It’s easy going and I only have to use my hands to steady myself a few times. Very quickly I’m up much higher than the parking area. I ease over to the edge to look down into the Hole where I can now see quite a few trees growing, still bearing their fall colors of yellow. Looking down I am even more amazed at what the pioneers had to go through to get through here. I have a clearer view of Lake Powell and beyond from up here as well as back from where we came and east towards Capitol Reef and the rest of Glenn Canyon National Recreation Area. Navajo Mtn, sacred to the Navajo Nation, fills the view to the southwest. Absolutely wonderful! More than worth the 2 hour+ drive down here.
By this time the others have ascended the other side and we take pictures of each other taking pictures of each other taking pictures of… I continue on up and out towards the lake. I see the others, now little, moving, colored dots on the rock, doing the same on the opposite side. I spy Mark C walking towards the leading edge of the cliff so I get my camera ready to snap a shot of him right by the towering edge over the lake far, and I mean far, below. While he doesn’t lean and peer over the edge (like I would be inclined to do) he does get pretty close and I end up with what I think will be a great shot.
Well, after a bit we’ve had enough of scrambling around Hole-In-The-Rock so we pack up our stuff and tumble into the trucks for the long drive out. We make our way safely through the “off-road” section then proceed more quickly north towards Escalante. We do stop at Dance Hall Rock to take a gander and can easily imagine the weary couples escaping their troubles for a short time dancing to the strains of the fiddles on the expansive sandstone floor of the amphitheatre.
Nearly out to Rt. 12 again I pass a group of 5 people walking along the side of the road. I stop and ask, “What the heck are you guys doing out here? In the dark!?” They say they’ve hiked across from Coyote Gulch and, hopefully, are making their way back towards their car. I tell them that it sounds like they are pretty close to where they left it and 2 of them get in so I can drive them to find it. Continuing north we find out that they’re from Colorado and have spent the weekend hiking around the area. We trade, “Have you been to…?” and “Have you done…?”, until just a few minutes later we see their car parked off to the side of the road. We drop them off, exchange bids for a safe trip home, and continue on to the beginning of the road where Mark and Margaret are waiting for us.
Now back on Terra Firma & Smootha we stop briefly at the Amoco so I can “fill up” with you know what, and with the night already upon us head back to the warmth and comfort of our cabin. It’s Mark and Margaret’s turn to prepare dinner and they do a splendid job: Mabo Tofu, stir fried mushrooms and zuchinni, and broccoli. Yum! Then after cleanup and a little digestion time, and a few drinks, it’s time once again for: Sequence! With the fire roaring, throwing off so much heat that we occasionally have to crack the front door, we spend the rest of the night disrespecting each others concentration and strategizing abilities playing the board game whose fascination of by us and others in our group started here 2 years ago (Thanks a lot Evie!).
We finally quit playing and the others head off to bed. I stay up a bit longer to pen my thoughts, but soon I am unable to keep my eyes open so I retire myself, falling asleep savoring the day’s excursion along the old pioneer path.
Sweet dreams!