The Land of Standing Rocks: The Chocolate Drops and Maze

This is day two of my three-day adventure into the Maze area of Canyonlands National Park.

The Chocolate Drops.

I woke up on day two of my Maze trip at a slickrock campsite below Teapot Rock. The sunrise was incredible from camp but I was still a little disappointed that the park rangers had thwarted my plan to hike down the Golden Stairs Trail with my bike. The morning views coming down that trail would have been over the top.

Teapot Camp.

Instead of a super scenic and short hike down the Golden Stairs into the Maze, I now had a longer and sure-to-be-uncomfortable bike ride along the infamously rough Doll House Road. Riding technical slickrock with a heavy, full-size backpack is not fun. Since water is incredibly scarce in the Maze, I carried seven liters; add a sleeping bag, pad, food, stove, etc. and we're talking about a real beast of a pack. To add insult to injury, I neglected to bring my biking shorts (with chamois padding) or even a helmet.

Orange Cliffs from Teapot Rock camp.

Cruising along the slickrock surface of Doll House Road near Canyonlands National Park.

At my lumbering pace, it was nearly 11 AM by the time I passed the bottom of the Golden Stairs and the trail head for Ernies Country and The Fins.  As I feared, the long bike detour meant I wouldn't have time to check out Lou's Spring, cedar bark ruin, or the interior of The Fins.

I pushed onward past the Mother & Child formation and into the enchanting Land of Standing Rocks. The "standing" rocks here are all that remain of the red Organ Rock shale which once everywhere blanketed the white Cedar Mesa Sandstone. I passed The Wall, Lizard Rock, and The Plug, before finally arriving at my designated campsite at Standing Rock.

The Wall. Rock formations in The Land of Standing Rocks can be deceiving. Compare this north-directed view of The Wall with the west-directed view below.

Looking west toward the amazingly thin and linear Wall, composed of  Organ Rock shale.

Standing Rock.

View from camp to confounding canyons of The Maze.

Standing Rock camp.

Running the first few miles of the Chocolate Drops Trail.

After dumping off my heavy backpack at camp, I got my day pack ready and made the short bike ride back to The Plug trail head. I stashed my bike, changed shoes, and ran west on the Doll House 4x4 road to the Chocolate Drops trail head near The Wall. This was the start of a 15-mile circuit that would lead me past several highlights of The Maze including The Chocolate Drops, Pictograph Fork Canyon, South Fork of Horse Canyon, Maze Overlook, and the Harvest Scene pictographs.

A closer look at Organ Rock hoodoos and balanced rocks along the Chocolate Drops Trail.

Resistant caps of White Rim Sandstone hold up the Chocolate Drops. Although not marked on any maps, there is an unofficial and sporadically cairned trail that descends northeast from the Chocolate Drops down into Pictograph Fork Canyon.

View of the Chocolate Drops from near the top of the Maze Overlook trail.

The Chocolate Drops from Maze Overlook. While snapping photos from the overlook, I was surprised to see what appeared to be a medical helicopter flying low over The Maze. I wondered if someone had gotten lost or rimmed out somewhere nearby. I later learned that they had a much more grim task that day--more on this in the next post.

Pictograph Fork--one of many tributaries of South Fork Canyon. Staying on course in this stone labyrinth is a real challenge since all of the canyons look similar and it can be impossible to tell which branch is a main fork and which is a minor tributary. For the most part, the "trails" in these canyons are simply dry wash bottoms.

The Harvest Scene of Pictograph Fork in the heart of The Maze. I arrived at this unique panel in the late evening when the panel was in shadow. This allowed me to get some pretty good detail considering how faded the pigment is. These are also part of the Archaic (pre-Anasazi) Barrier Creek style similar to the art at the much more easily accessible Horse Shoe Canyon.

The Harvest Scene is named for the character in the far right of the photo that appears to be presenting a sheath of rice grass.

Upper Pictograph Fork just before sundown.

After spending about an hour photographing the Harvest Scene, I headed up canyon toward my bike stashed at the Plug trail head. With the shorter days (this was way back in April), I fully expected to finish the hike in the dark and, as always, I carry a small headlamp that is usually sufficient for getting to the end of the trail. But after walking upcanyon a mile or so, I started thinking about what the canyon exit was going to be like. I recalled looking on Google Earth during planning and seeing a fairly precarious trail that climbs a series of bare Cedar Mesa ledges to the rim. I realized there would be a critical turn up ahead where the route leaves the sandy wash bottom and begins the ledgy ascent. With only an hour of daylight left, I had a mini panic attack and started running. That key turn (likely to be marked only with a small cairn) would be difficult to find in the dark with a small headlamp. If I missed that turn, there's no other safe way out of the box canyon.

I made it to the critical turn, marked only with a small cairn as I guessed, with just enough diffuse light (the sun had long sunk over the canyon rim) to look up the canyon side and spot the first few cairns designating the route out. Within a few minutes it was completely dark and I had to rely on the paltry 15 feet or so of light throw of my headlamp. Things quickly got a little dicey as the route led me higher in the cliffs in the dark. My light was too weak to simply navigate from cairn to cairn. I'd typically have to scout around on narrow ledges with a few hundred feet of exposure for the next cairn. There was one spot that stumped me for a good half hour. I had a cairn sitting on a 3 foot-wide ledge. There were only a couple of possible directions I could go up from here and they all seemed to lead to a dead end. After each dead end, I'd retrace my steps back to the cairn. For a minute, I thought I'd have to spend the night on the ledge and wait for daylight to show me the way out. Eventually I shown my light straight down and realized the route was a near vertical friction pitch straight down to another ledge about 10 feet below. Sure enough once I slid down, I found a another cairn and with much trial and error, I followed many more back to my bike.

I slept good that night back at Lone Rock camp after inhaling a spaghetti and meat sauce Mountain House meal.

I had knocked a lot of sights off the old bucket list that day and I couldn't wait to tick off the Dollhouse the following morning.