Category Archives: Southwest sampler

Hiking Cathedral Gorge State Park

Nature Loop and Cathedral Caves

We bundled up and set out for the Nature Loop, a half-mile interpretive trail. I could handle that. The trail was pretty meh but the Cathedral Caves were filled with unexpected treasures.

One note before the trail report: the signage at Nevada State Parks is absolutely ridiculous. The maps are gorgeous. But the table of data on every sign has so much superfluous information it’s almost laughable. No one visiting the park who’s heading out on a 1-mile loop needs to know information like “maximum cross slope,” “typical surface firmness (in inches, of course)” and “typical tread width.” WTF? Maybe this information is useful in internal documents, but not on a public-facing sign. Distance and elevation gain is pretty much all that’s necessary. But wait, the tables don’t even list elevation gain? I really couldn’t understand the impetus for such a sign. And they’re in every Nevada State Park we’ve visited. In an age when people’s eyes glaze over if they have to read a sign that says “pack it in, pack it out,” I can’t imagine anyone is understanding the information overload on these signs. Okay, rant over.

I had originally become interested in this park after seeing a photo in a AAA magazine. I was mesmerized by the colors and shapes carved into the unusual rock here. But that is all I knew about the place. What we discovered were tall, narrow hallways that burrowed into the fluted rock formations. Called “caves,” these passageways were unlike anything I’d seen before. The “rock” didn’t even look like rock, but like flaky, delicate piles of mud. It looked as if a single rainstorm would wash it all away. The passages were just barely wide enough for us to walk through.

None were terribly long, but they were really fun to explore. You’d walk in a few yards, hit a dead end, turn around. Some of them had branching passages to explore. At each hallway terminus it felt like you could say, “beam me up, Scotty!” and be taken to another dimension.

A side benefit was that the caves offered complete protection from the wind, which we were reminded of every time we stepped out into the open. They were so cool! We spent quite some time oohing and aahing over the geology before trudging back to the campsite. It was so insanely windy that I holed up in the tent while Aaron prepared dinner, and we ate inside the tent, too. It was going to be another long night.

Juniper Draw Loop

The wind blew hard all night long. In the morning, the air was quiet but cold. After breakfast we each enjoyed hot showers in the campground before taking a walk on the Juniper Draw Loop.

The trail passed close to the badlands formations that make the park so unique. I couldn’t take my eyes off them. The fluted spires and pillars that looked so fragile had, in fact, formed from ash deposited tens of millions of years ago. Geology is so in your face in the west. I remember yawning through geology class in college back in New Jersey, where all of it seemed so theoretical. But here it was tangible, visible, notable. You couldn’t deny it. How my life may have been different if I grew up here…

Along the way we saw jackrabbits and lizards. No snakes. I couldn’t believe I was on the tail end of a two week desert trip and I hadn’t seen one single rattlesnake. It feels like the only people who see rattlers are the ones who don’t want to see them.

We walked slowly around the loop. I was keeping my fingers crossed that my foot wouldn’t act up today. I didn’t want to push it. Looking down I noticed cryptobiotic soil. I’d first learned about this phenomenon on a visit to Utah a couple years prior. Between the rocks, the microbes, the animals, plants and weather there was a lifetime of science stuff to geek out on here. But we weren’t done yet.

Near the end of the loop we came across more of those “caves.” Some of them were signed: Canyon Caves, Moon Caves. They were nearly identical to the ones we’d explored yesterday. But there were some passageways that led uphill, providing a view looking down into the thin hallways. I was terrified up there, as if at any moment the ground beneath me could collapse. We hurried back down to the safety of the floor and continued on our way. By now, my ankle was hurting. I got grouchy again and made a beeline for the car.

Despite the foot injury I felt like we made a good effort to see this park. While the colors weren’t as impressive as the (probably photoshopped) images from my AAA magazine, the experience was just as delightful as I’d hoped it would be.

Short hikes in Snow Canyon State Park

Jenny’s Canyon

This was possibly one of the most disappointing hike of the trip and it’s all because we were spoiled in some sweet slot canyons already. Plus, there was a loud (but surprisingly small) group ahead of us whose sole purpose of visiting the park was clearly shouting their life stories across the valley. Fun.

Hidden Pinyon

I have a bit of a soft spot for park interpretive trails with brochures. This was one of them. Plus, it gave me an excuse to stop at every numbered sign and read about the vegetation and animal life in the park. We slowly meandered along this trail, enjoying the learning opportunities and stopping breathlessly underneath every shade tree. I could never live in Utah.

White Rock Amphitheater

We drove up to the northern-most trailhead in the park and set out on a trail to the White Rock Amphitheater. It was a quick but beautiful walk to the natural amphitheater set in a movie-like backdrop of white sandstone. By now the sun was low enough in the sky that the air felt comfortable. A light breeze blew by and we had this place all to ourselves. Now I was starting to settle in here. Despite my angry foot I managed to scramble up the slickrock to the high point above the bowl because, duh, it was there. Aaron was on a mission to find a desert tortoise, so we pretended to look for one at every little patch of sand and shrubs along the hillside. We didn’t find one, but we did see some pretty agave and cacti.

It was quite breezy and cool up top; I could have stayed here awhile. But our hungry bellies were ready for dinner so we hauled back out of there.

Back at camp, we grilled up some pork chops and asparagus. The camp host walked past and warned us about high winds and rain coming through tonight. We thanked her, finished our meal and collapsed in the tent.

Petrified Dunes

So there was some wind last night. It was blowing so hard I got probably an hour of sleep. Several times I woke up to stick my feet up on the tent ceiling to help bolster the poles. I’d never seen my low-profile backpacking tent get pushed around so much! It was nuts. And since we were in the desert, we woke up with a thick layer of sand on everything in the tent. And in our mouths and noses. And, yeah you get the point. It was a miserable night. We packed up and got right in the car.

We took one more walk in Snow Canyon at the Petrified Sand Dunes. The wind was still blowing, the sun was barely up and the air was surprisingly chilly. I layered up for this walk.

The trail crosses petrified sand dunes, which look like any other slickrock hill I’ve ever been on. There were funky trail markers drilled into the rock for the start of the hike, but after seeing about three of them we never saw another one. We meandered around on the rock until we felt like we’d seen enough, turned around and looped back towards the parking area. My foot was still really angry so I had to walk very carefully and slowly, not an easy thing for me to do. I struggled with feeling so inept at walking but I tried not to let it get me down. The wind didn’t help my mood.

Back in the car we drove off towards Nevada for the next couple of state parks on our journey…

Buckskin Gulch

The trail head

We drove up to the Wire Pass trailhead, confused as to why there were so many cars there. A minivan speedily pulled in next to us. They rolled down the window and shouted “Is this the parking lot for THE WAVE??”

Ah, so that explained the excitement.

I read the sign and sure enough, this trailhead did provide the access point for the Wave. If you’ve ever seen a picture of the American Southwest, you’ve seen this picture. It became such a popular area that there are now limited entry permits required to visit it. With my disdain for both permits and popular hiking spots, the Wave was not on the top of my to-do list. Instead we were heading for another slot canyon, the longest in the southwest.

Unlike yesterday’s hike, I knew we wouldn’t reach the end of it. But I wanted to see how far we could get.

The canyon

Unsure of the trail conditions, the temperature inside the canyon and the water situation, I had trouble figuring out what to pack. I read that there would be some sections of standing water we’d have to wade through so I wore sandals. I figured it might be cooler inside the slot so I packed my fuzzy yellow fleecy top. And I knew we’d need lots of snacks and water so of course I packed all that.

The trail began as a path in a broad wash lined with shrubs and wildflowers. There were other people walking ahead of us, their WAVE permits dangling from their backpacks. We turned a corner, passed through a dry slot, scrambled down a vertical channel and popped out into a large canyon with tall, steep walls. There were a couple of groups of people sitting at the edge of this canyon, where it joined up with Buckskin Gulch.

One man walked up to me, asked where I was heading and shook his head. “You can’t get through there, the canyon is filled with thigh-deep mud.” I thanked him for the beta and kept walking towards the canyon. I had to see for myself.

We reached the canyon mouth and turned right, heading for the narrow section that I’d read about. Just a short ways into the gulch we reached some mud. Then deep puddles of water. Very quickly, my shoes came off. And I’d keep them off for the entire day.

In some sections, the pools of water were avoidable. The canyon bottom was wide enough, and had a mud bar to one side, so that I could skirt the edge of the water. But in other places the canyon was so narrow that I had to walk right into the water. It was ankle deep. Knee deep. Over the knees. Oh yes, there was thigh deep…water, not mud. This was totally passable! And a grand adventure. We decided to keep going.

The day went like this: walk a bit on the mud, approach the next pool, gingerly test how deep the pool was, hike up shorts accordingly. Occasionally stop to adjust layers, as in put MORE clothes on. It was damned cold down there, which was especially weird considering it was probably 90 degrees outside the canyon. Little sunlight was able to penetrate the deep and narrow canyon, so it was like we had entered a completely different world.

The interior of the canyon also looked otherworldly. Rocks were eroded in unique shapes and patterns. Flash flooding had created holes, pockets and channels into the stone. The canyon bottom exhibited a wide range of textures, going from fine sand to smooth boulders to sharp pebbles, all in the blink of an eye. The sun, when it reached the canyon floor, created interesting shadows and silhouettes. I stopped to take a picture at least every 3 minutes, thinking, I’ll never see this again!

We were walking through the slot for so long it felt like it would never open up. As soon as we got a small widening in the gulch, we plopped down to have a much-needed snack.

Just a few minutes after we sat down, we heard voices. People?! Who would choose to walk through this water and sludge?

A couple appeared, wearing sandals, tank tops and shorts. They asked “Does this go to the Paria River?” Well yes, I thought, but that’s like 10 miles away. I informed them of this, then turned to reach into my bag for the map. When I turned around, they were already gone, retreating back the way they came. Well, that was odd. Who would have walked this far into a challenging hike with no sense of where they were or where they were going?

We pressed on, again the only people in the canyon. Right around the next corner the canyon opened wide and we felt the warm rays of the sun. Aaaahhh! It was wonderful.

But now we really got a sense of the size of the canyon. The walls to either side of us rose straight up, hundreds of feet. We felt tiny inside of this massive split in the earth. Since the canyon was so wide, it was now easier to avoid the slick mud and deep holes filled with water. It gave us an opportunity to dry our feet out and walk on soft ground.

At some point we reached a point in the canyon that was choked with boulders and debris. It wasn’t clear which way was the best way to get around it, so I picked a side and went. There may have been a handful of climbey-type moves on less than stellar rock but we both made it over just fine. And kept walking.

“When should we turn around?” Aaron asked. Oh, do we have to?! We both thought simultaneously. We looked at the time, selected a hard turnaround time and continued on.

I was mesmerized by the experience and already planning a return trip. How cool would it be to backpack the entire Paria Canyon? And I’m not even a backpacker!

At x-o’clock in the afternoon, I don’t remember what time, we decided it was time to turn around. I really didn’t have a sense of how far we had come, since the GPS on my phone was wildly inaccurate inside of a canyon. And while it felt like we had walked 20 miles, in reality we assuredly hiked much less!

On our way back, I stopped to take fewer pictures, but I was no less in awe of the place we were in. Each fold in the rock, each groove in the mud, each bundle of debris and each shadow on the water was a spectacular moment to be cherished. I just didn’t need to capture it on camera.

We had almost made it back to Wire Canyon when we began to hear voices again. Another couple was heading our way. We chatted with them a bit, and they seemed excited about their adventure. They knew how late in the day it was and it sounded like they were planning to turn around soon.

After stepping out of that last puddle of water I breathed a sigh of relief. While Aaron washed his feet and put his shoes back on, I found a place to sit just off the trail. OUCH. Every plant in this damn place is covered in spines! I carefully found another seat and savored a few moments of quiet rest. There wasn’t another soul in the canyon.

The rest of the hike was uneventful, but my feet were pretty sore. Every little pebble and sticker sent sharp pains through my body. I put my sandals back on. Feet, you’ve had a long day.

Upon arriving at the car before sunset, I took a moment to reflect on a day well spent. Adventure is there for those who are willing to grab it, and I was grateful to have a partner who put his trust in me to find a new trail and was all in to give it a shot.

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