2 Days: Day 1 -- Shaman's Gallery

Above: view east from the Schmutz Spring Trailhead across Tuckup Canyon. Mesas of Kaibab Limestone, Toroweap Formation, Coconino Sandstone, and Hermit Shale rise above the Esplanade platform.

The Shaman's Gallery, tucked way in the western Grand Canyon is proof positive that there are still major discoveries to be made. The Old West is just that big. Whether it's dinosaur bones, Native American artifacts, or untrammeled slot canyons, there is still a lot of stuff out there that is unknown.

This unique panel of pictographs located in a remote corner of the park may have been noticed by passing cowboys several decades ago. But as is typical of most hard-working ranchers, they probably just regarded it a curiosity and went about their business.

That changed in 1986 when mule-wrangler and guide Gordon Smith reported the site to the Park Service. But the Shaman's style of art was so different from other known Grand Canyon rock-art sites that, according to Gordon, the park Superintendent didn't believe him and initially accused him of submitting photos of Australian art. It wasn't until Gordon led an archeologist to the site that the astonished officials learned they truly had something special.

Even though the gallery has been somewhat brought to light, you would never know it if you ever manage to visit the place. The NPS doesn't advertise it, and apparently they have sent threatening letters to people that have been too specific about its location.

Thanks to Gordon's hand-drawn map (I'd post a link, but it looks like Gordon's website has been removed?), I had no trouble finding the trailhead or the panel. But it took quite a bit more time than I thought to drive the maze of rough roads to get out there. I was hoping to to fit in a trip to the Wahweap Hoodoos in the evening, but I soon realized that due to the rough road, I'd be lucky to get back to Pipe Springs by dark. Once at the trailhead, I didn't see any sign of anyone else being there for a long time.

The trail drops 1700 feet in about 3.5 miles to the Shaman's Gallery. It's not a difficult hike and the scenery is great, especially in the late evening. With the tremendous expanse surrounding me and no indication of other human beings, I felt incredibly alone. And, initially, this was a good thing.


Above: well-preserved crinoid fossils can be found where the trail passes through a historic fence.




Relatively little research has been done on the panel, but early speculation is that much of the art dates back to at least 1000 B.C.



Above: staring into the angry eyes of a 3000-year old specter.

I have to admit, being out alone in the middle of nowhere, and having these ghostly figures staring down at me was a bit creepy. Gordon and others that have been there alone have reported a similar uneasiness. I later found out that the Natives had likely attempted to commune with the supernatural here. The figures are unlike anything I've seen before, especially the ones that apparently show internal organs, eyelashes, and multiple heads.






Above: the view from beneath the overhang that has protected Shaman's Gallery over the millennia.

I'll never forget the hike into Shaman's Gallery. I'd like to visit the place again and explore a bit more... but not alone.

Continue reading

Share:

Views:

2 Days: Day 1--Toroweap

"So, what do you want for your birthday?"

Like my wife really needed to ask. The real question was whether I'd be granted one or two days over the weekend for a solo adventure. We ended up agreeing on two full days.

I started running down my must-do list. A few at the top were just not possible during a cold and wet February, leaving me with (1) Toroweap in the western Grand Canyon, (2) Hackberry Canyon (a tributary of the Paria River in the Grand Staircase-Escalante N.M.), and (3) the Wahweap Hoodoos (also in the GSENM). I started to wonder: instead of deciding which to do why not shoot for the moon and attempt all three in just two days?

I planned an overstuffed itinerary including everything above plus a few other things along the way. I knew it was an impossible schedule but that it sure would be fun trying.

I left on Friday night, topped off my gas tank in Hildale, and drove the 60+ miles of rutted and washboard roads to the Lava Falls trailhead near Toroweap. As I pulled into the small parking lot, my headlights illuminated a sign reading: "Day Use Only, No Camping". I was tired, it was getting late, and there was no way I was going to make the drive to the Toroweap Campground at this point. Technically, I wasn't going to "camp" since I planned to just sleep in my truck, so I figured I wasn't breaking any major rule.

I got up before sunrise and hit the trail which follows an ancient lava cascade to the Colorado. Even in poor light, it was fairly easy to follow the sometimes ill-defined trail or route marked with cairns.

The unmaintained Lava Falls route is one of the shortest and most direct ways to get from rim to river in the Grand Canyon. The sign in the photo below is encountered a little ways down from the actual trailhead. The total elevation drop is closer to 3000 feet -- all in less than 2 miles.





Above: A stern warning from the NPS. This generally applies to folks attempting this hike in summer when you'll be baking on the black rocks in full sun.

The trail is obviously very steep and there are a few short sections where you need to climb with both hands and feet. The only difficulty I found was during the descent. As you near the river, you'll see the prominent butte of basalt in the photo below. For me, the trail was straightforward until I reached the saddle just above this butte. The well-warn path seemed to go to the right along the west side of the Butte and that is the way I went. If you do this hike, don't go this way! The easier path is to the left along the east side of the lava butte, as I would find out later. The path to the right leads to an extremely sketchy scree slope that must be very carefully negotiated to avoid an uncontrolled skid. The NPS should make the safe path more obvious. Coming up from the river there are arrows painted on the rock, but I didn't notice them while going down.



I made it to the river just as the sun reached the inner canyon in less than 1.5 hours. A short hike downstream leads to Lava Falls Rapids, the largest in the Grand Canyon. I was too early though to see any boaters try and make their way through the rapids.




Above: Lava Falls Rapids are not the result of any obstruction created by lava, but, like most rapids in the Colorado River system, they are a result of gigantic boulders deposited by debris flows that come down side canyons every couple of years or so.

After checking out the rapids, I headed back up the trail. Thankfully, I found the safer route up and was able to make good time. Round trip to the rapids and back was just under three hours. But if you try this hike, slow down and enjoy it. As I said, I had a full schedule and so I was moving pretty quickly.





Above: Vulcan's thrown -- a massive cinder cone --dwarfs my Montero at the trailhead.

After my morning hike, I headed over to the Toroweap Overlook -- arguably providing the most dramatic view of the Grand Canyon. Yes, the developed North and South Rim overlooks are much higher, but you can't even see the river from those viewpoints. That is the beauty of Toroweap. You are literally right over the river looking 3000 feet down. And there are no guard rails, plaques, and in my case, not a single other soul for miles around!



Above: looking west downstream from Toroweap Overlook. Note the two prominent black lava cascades. The largest (not visible in photo) was the Prospect Canyon cascade which dammed the Colorado River about 500,000 years ago, creating a lake that extended all the way to Moab.


Above: water-filled potholes are found everywhere on the Esplanade platform near Toroweap Overlook.



Above: looking east and upstream from the overlook at Toroweap.

It was I fine start to the day. As I chewed on lunch at the overlook, I figured I was in good position to finish the day equally as strong with a hike to the Shaman's Gallery and the Wahweap Hoodoos. I should have known better...

Continue reading

Share:

Views:

Desert Escape

Me and my 7-month old son Ren were left to fend for ourselves during Susie's annual trade show in Las Vegas.

Even though we lived in Vegas for years, every trip down there, I discover something new.

I was surprised to learn from an online hiking guide that a number of unique slot canyons exist around Lake Mead. Unique because they are not carved into red sandstone like the narrow canyons of southern Utah, but rather they are formed in well-cemented alluvial-fan sand and gravel. Essentially a conglomerate rock that lacks the vivid colors of more famous slots, but produces some outstanding textures.

I figure it's never too soon to get your kids into canyoneering, so I snagged the baby backpack and some diapers and headed east toward the lake.


Ren was awfully quiet during the 2-hour hike and didn't make a peep. I was pretty sure this was a good sign that he was enjoying himself, but since I couldn't see his face while strapped to my back, occasionally I'd point my camera over my shoulder and snap a photo to try and gauge his mood. In most photos, he appeared a bit concerned, but he must not have been too stressed because toward the end of the hike I could feel the backpack go out of balance with Ren slumped to one side, and a little later came his soft little snore.







Above: There is something about perfectly symmetrical patterns that really mess with me. A few steps into this drainage tunnel, and I started to feel wheezy and had to back out.







Above: To access the slot, you must cross the now-dry lake shore which is full of fresh-water clam shells.







The next morning I got in an early-morning bike ride out at Cottonwood Canyon-- one of my favorite places to watch the sun rise.

Continue reading

Share:

Views:

Out and About Near Tooele

Perhaps I'm just not meant to ever climb Flat Top -- the highest point in the Oquirrh Mountains in northern Utah. On my first attempt, I tried to take a shortcut to the top and got chewed out by an angry property owner. On my second attempt, with my brothers as company, we got mired down in deep snow and eventually ran out of energy and daylight.

My recent 3rd attempt ended with the same result. Using Google Earth I mapped out the most direct route that skirts around the private property. One thing I couldn't see in the aerial photography however was all of the low oak brush that lined most of my planned route. After tangling with the brush for a couple of hours, it was clear that, once again, I was going to come up short.

I didn't want to ruin the entire day, so I decided to retreat and head over to Timpie Valley in the northern Stansbury Range to look for the elusive "dancing red man" pictograph.

I haven't completely given up on Flat Top, but I'm not going to try it in the winter again.



On the way over to Timpie Valley, I noticed a small plaque bolted on a rock next to the highway that I'd never seen before.





While I was aware or much of the information on the plaque, I didn't know about the remains of one of the oldest roads constructed in the Tooele area. This road is clearly visible on the other side of the modern highway, and was built a full 10 years before silver was discovered near present-day Stockton by Col. Patrick Connor's (Steptoe's successor) men. The bit about the fault-created bench and glaciers coming out of Silcox Canyon are very doubtful, however.





The view from Timpie out over The Great Salt Lake's glassy waters toward Stansbury Island was a treat.



I only have a few vague clues as to the whereabouts of the pictograph. I know it's in a protective cave or overhang, and from pictures, it appears it is painted on one of the bright white Paleozoic quartzite layers rather than the gray limestones that dominate much of this northern part of the range.

I spent several hours searching every cave I could find but still came up empty. I've thought about contacting someone who has been there for directions or GPS coordinates, but I've decided it would be much more fun to keep trying to find it on my own, not to mention more rewarding when I finally do stumble upon it!


Above: a rare arch in dolostone.


Above: I'm not a big fan of anything that has more than four legs, but I'm curious about what kind of spider this is -- tell me if you know.

Below: right at the 5100' Bonneville highstand (reached about 15,000 years ago), all of the limestone ledges are encrusted with this white, porous "coral rock". It makes for some interesting photos.

Continue reading

Share:

Views: