Paria River Canyon, Buckskin Gulch, Snake Gulch

PARIA RIVER CANYON

We just returned from hiking the Paria for the 7th time. It continues to astound us. We urge you to read about it in our book Hiking from Here to WOW: Utah Canyon Country (Trip 12, page 89), then begin making plans to hike there. Every devoted backpacker should witness this world-wonder canyon at least once.

You already have reservations to hike the Paria? Lucky you. Here are some important updates to the most recent edition of our book:

• Hwy 89, south of Page, is closed indefinitely. The highway was severely damaged during a “seismic event.” That means the shuttle between the White House trailhead and Lees Ferry now takes hours longer (one way) than previously. For that reason, you might not want to hike the Paria as a one-way trip. Until the highway is reopened, we recommend a round trip. Start at White House trailhead. Hike 12.2 mi (19.6 km) down-river to Big Spring. Base-camp there, then dayhike farther down-canyon. Turn around just past Judd Hollow, which is about 18 mi (29 km) from the trailhead.

• The 2011 flood did not significantly rearrange Paria Canyon, or its tributary Buckskin Gulch, nearly as much as we had been led to believe by the reports we’d received.

• The high, sandy benches near the bottom of Buckskin Gulch, just a few minutes upstream from the confluence with Paria Canyon, are still there. (On page 96 of the 2012 reprint of our book, we stated what the authorities had told us: that these benches had been washed away. That’s not true.) These confluence benches continue to offer three, excellent campsites. Each campsite has room for several tents. As for water, however, we could not find the spring that used to drip from the north wall here. So we filtered water from the relatively clear streamlet flowing along the floor of the gulch.

• If you intend to hike up-canyon, generally west, into Buckskin Gulch, within 1 mi (1.6 km) you’ll encounter the boulder jam described on page 88 of our book. A fixed rope previously made the necessary scramble here much easier. That rope is gone, but another option is now available. So, take your pick: (1) moqui steps (chiseled footholds) on a smooth, nearly vertical rockface without help from a fixed rope, or (2) a pair of sturdy logs vertically jammed among the boulders. Approaching from the confluence, you’ll immediately see the moqui steps (right). Continue left, crouching beneath the boulder, to find the vertical logs. The first moqui step is very high, and the pitch, though short, is exposed. The vertical logs are firmly in place and grant relatively safe, easy passage. (See the photos above.) Kids and tentative adults might need assistance, but most hikers will likely find they can use the vertical logs to get up and down.

• About 2 mi (3.2 km) farther down the Paria from the Buckskin/Paria confluence is a high bench on the left (NE) wall. It offers one campsite with room for up to four tents beneath a huge, beautiful cottonwood. Just downstream, on the opposite wall, is a strong, clear-water spring.

• Big Spring, at 12.2 mi (19.6 km), remains an impressively reliable source of water. The long bench opposite the spring, affords numerous tentsites.

BUCKSKIN GULCH

As of of the first week of April, Buckskin Gulch was easily hikeable. No need to wade through fetid pools. We encountered only a couple, short, muddy sections — nothing worse than knee deep. Otherwise, the floor of the gulch was solid underfoot: just moist sand.

If you can’t get a permit to backpack the Paria, consider dayhiking Buckskin. Read about it in our book Hiking from Here to WOW: Utah Canyon Country (Trip 11, page 84).

Starting at Wire Pass trailhead, you can hike a round trip: down in, then retracing your steps back out. Or, if you’re strong and can arrange a shuttle, hike all of Buckskin in a single day: 13 mi (21 km) from Wire Pass to the confluence with the Paria, then 7 mi (11.3 km) up the Paria to the White House trailhead.

The average width of Buckskin Gulch is just 12 ft. The walls average 100 ft high. The most spectacular stretch is the lower end of the gulch, closer to the confluence. If hiking down the gulch from Wire Pass, read the fifth paragraph above (under Paria River Canyon), describing the boulder jam you’ll encounter shortly before arriving at the confluence.

SNAKE GULCH

If you’re hiking Paria and/or Buckskin, here’s another, nearby dayhike we enthusiastically recommend: Snake Gulch. Plan to do it before or after Paria/Buckskin.

Hidden within Snake Gulch is a prolific concentration of native, rock art. The trailhead is a mere 31 mi (50 km)—an 80-minute drive—from Kanab, Utah. The hike is not in our WOW Utah book because it’s entirely in Arizona.

The rock art dates to 500 B.C. It was created by Archaic, Basketmaker, Ancestral Pueblo, and Fremont natives over a span of 15 centuries. It comprises petroglyphs (pecked into the rock) and pictrographs (painted on the rock). The pictographs display more colors, including yellow and green, than much of the rock art elsewhere on the Colorado Plateau.

By Vehicle

From Kanab, drive S on Hwy 89A to Fredonia. Continue left (SE) on 89A for 1 mi (1.6 km), then turn right (S) on paved FSR (4)22. This is just S of an industrial plant. Follow it 21 miles (33.8 km), until FSR 462 forks left (E) toward Jacob Lake (9 mi / 14.5 km distant). Reset your trip odometer to 0 here and proceed right (W). Continue S on unpaved FSR (4)22. At 1.6 (2.6 km) turn right onto FSR 423, signed for Kanab Creek Wilderness (5 mi / 8 km distant). Continue N another 2 miles (3.2 km). Descend through a canyon. At the Y junction, veer right (N) on unpaved FSR 642. The road ends at the signed, Snake Gulch trailhead. The elevation here is 5800 ft (1768 m).

On Foot

Follow the obvious trail N. The remains of a homesteader’s stone house is visible across the drainage. The trail curves left (W) into Snake Gulch.

Departing the trailhead, hike briskly. There’s little to see initially other than the gulch itself. It’s pleasing but not impressive.

Most of the art in the gulch is on the right (N) wall, facing left (S). If you’re observant, however, you’ll also see panels on the left (S) wall. There are many more panels than we’ll mention here. It’s easy to spend an entire day admiring the rock art in this world-class, outdoor gallery.

Within 50 minutes, fast hikers will see a rock-art panel on the right (N) wall. At 1.5 hours (2.5 mi / 4 km) again look on the right (N) wall, under an overhang, for more, small pictographs. Just 0.6 mi (1 km) farther, you’ll find more pictographs on the right (N) wall.

About 2.5 hours from the trailhead, cross Toothpick Canyon—a narrow, usually dry, tributary gash entering Snake Gulch from the right (N). About eight minutes beyond Toothpick, the distinctive peninsula called Table Rock is visible jutting into the gulch from the left (S).

Soon, the deep arroyo that has so far split the gulch disappears. The floor of the gulch flattens, and you’re able to angle left, crossing the gulch toward Table Rock.

Shortly before reaching Table Rock, look up (left) on the S wall. Here, at 4.7 mi (7.5 km), 5215 ft (1590 m), you’ll see the most impressive rock-art panel in Snake Gulch. An ascending trail allows you to easily ascend to a ledge where you can walk the entire length of the panel. Most dayhikers will recognize this as the ideal, climactic, turn-around point. Simply retrace your steps, up the gulch to the trailhead.

Mexican Food

For a post-hike meal celebrating your Paria, Buckskin, and/or Snake Gulch experience, we recommend the muy delicioso Mexican food at Escobar’s, in Kanab. We’ve been stopping there for years: whenever we pass through town. Escobar’s is located on the north side of Hwy 89, two minutes east of the traffic lights at the Hwy 89/89A junction. Their phone number is (435) 644-3739. Every time we’ve been there, Rosa (who owns and runs the restaurant with her husband, Leo) has served us with grace and humour.

Casa de Amigos Fresh Mex Restaurant, Springdale, Utah

You come to Zion National Park to see the world’s highest sandstone cliffs and to hike some of the most compelling trails in Utah canyon country. Another reason to come here is to relish what we believe is the most delicious Mexican food in North America.

Mexican food has long been our favourite. We’ve dined at hundreds of Mexican restaurants and tacquerias in Mexico, the U.S., and Canada. Years ago, we were thrilled to discover an excellent one in Galway, Ireland. Prior to heading south to Arizona in December, we were eager try as many new Mexican eateries as possible.

We probably hit about 18 of them. Most were merely okay. As a result, we became frequent patrons of the popular Chipotle chain, which serves hefty portions of what they call “food with integrity.” It’s delicious, nutritious, ethical, and a good value, but it does not qualify as authentic Mexican. It’s tame.

Most of the other Mexican restaurants we tried this winter were less than tame. They were bland. Their fare is intended to suit the typical, unadventurous, North American palate. We enjoyed a few, pleasing tamales and enchiladas, some filling burritos, but nothing exciting or memorable.

After working on our computers all day during a freak, April blizzard in Zion Canyon, at 9 p.m. we ventured out of the campground, into the adjacent town of Springdale, in search of a meal. The only “OPEN” sign we saw was at Casa de Amigos Fresh Mex. Even before we ordered, we knew we’d found a special restaurant. They served us homemade chips and three condiments: pico de gallo, roasted red-chile salsa, and tomatillo salsa. Each was spectacular. Just enough spice to add a little heat, some zing, but not so much that we recoiled. Just the opposite. We dug in, enthusiastically commenting about the unique tastes.

We ordered their “super burritos” that night, and both of us agreed they surpassed any burrito we’d ever eaten. They were fresh, hearty, wonderfully spicy, with just a hint of fire. The service was equally good: relaxed, fun, yet attentive and efficient. We returned the next morning for breakfast burritos with side orders of refried beans and guacamole. That might sound mundane, but every bite was heavenly. So we returned that night for dinner and ordered their stew, which they served with steaming, corn tortillas.

We’d never heard of this Mexican cross between soup and stew. Wow! It was a meal we’ll never forget. Ingredients include slivers of seasoned, grilled beef, pinto beans, chunks of avocado, and cilantro. The owner told us he has a relative in Chicago who owns a restaurant and serves only this dish—nothing else—and customers line up for it day and night. Between spoonfuls of this divine soup, we sipped fresh, tart-yet-sweet tamarindo juice. For desert, we sipped iced horchata, which approximates liquid, vanilla ice-cream laced with cinnamon.

The owners of Casa de Amigos are Victor and Alicia. Their extensive menu is based on family recipes from Victor’s home in Jalisco province, Mexico. You’ll find Casa de Amigos at 805 Zion Park Blvd, on the east side of the street, just outside the south entrance to Zion National Park. It’s open seven days a week for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

Hike fast and far in Zion, so you’ll come to Casa de Amigos with a voracious appetite. And ask if they’ve made a batch of tamarindo or horchata. Both drinks are delectable.

Snow Canyon, just outside St. George, Utah, is one of our all-time favorite places to camp. We describe it in detail in our guidebook: “Hiking from Here to WOW: Utah Canyon Country.” It’s Trip 1, on page 34. So on our recent migration south, from Canmore, Alberta, to Tucson, Arizona, we camped here and explored the area yet again. We brought our road bikes and cycled the dedicated path heading north out of the State Park, then looping back to the park via the city. We cycled the bike path from the park, east to Kayenta, where we looped through trophy-home neighborhoods in a gorgeous, high-desert setting. We hiked the trails (covered in our book) within the park. We enjoyed it all, even though we’d done it before. But this time we did something new: We rambled off-trail on the slickrock at the head (north end) of Snow Canyon. We discovered superb “slickwalking” terrain, where we roamed—climbing, traversing, descending—for hours. If you’re a strong hiker, capable of navigating cross-country, and comfortable on steep terrain, we urge you to try it. The photos we’ve posted here (click once to enlarge, click a second time to enlarge fully) are a testament to the beauty and intrigue that await you. The last photo attests to the appeal of the campground setting. Bear in mind, all these photos were shot in December. As for how to approach Snow Canyon’s optimal slickwalk terrain, begin on the Whiterocks trail, follow the north fork into the slickrock draw, then begin ascending. Or hike west on the Lava Flow trail, then veer off trail, northwest, at the point nearest the slickrock. If you’re capable, this is all the directional advise you’ll need to begin hours of freelancing. If you feel the need for more directional assistance, you’re in over your head and should keep to the established trails. As always when hiking in Utah canyon country, take care not to step on the fragile, cryptobiotic soil. … Walk on!

Water Walkin’

One of our readers recently posed a good question: “Your guidebook, ‘Hiking from Here to WOW: Utah Canyon Country,’ has several photos of you guys splashing through water. We’re wondering, what’s your footwear solution for dry/wet/dry/wet terrain?”

It’s now too cold for hiking through water in the canyons of Utah. But the daytime temperatures remain comfortable for water walkin’ in southern Arizona. Last year, for example, we hiked through Aravaipa Canyon in January. We were in water constantly. And we were very comfortable.

If you have plans for a winter hiking escape to Arizona, or if you intend to shop the winter sales for water-walkin’ footwear you intend to use in Utah next spring, we thought you might appreciate our response to that question about dry/wet/dry/wet terrain. Here you go:

After years of experimenting with everything from Teva sandals, to 5-10′s, to old boots we don’t care about, to paddling socks + sandals… ad naseum, we eventually found what we think is the optimal solution.

Start with a pair of all-synthetic hiking boots. In other words, regular hiking boots that have no leather in their construction. Non-leather boots do not absorb water, so they remain light rather than become sodden and heavy. Non-leather boots are not damaged by days of hiking in water. Plus they dry much faster once you’re out of the water. Here are a couple examples:

Salomon Cosmic 4D GTX

http://www.travelcountry.com/shop/salomon/cosmic-4d-gtx-boots-mens.html?RefId=72&RefType=Affiliate

Kayland Zephyr Event

http://www.sierratradingpost.com/kayland-zephyr-event-hiking-boots-for-men~p~4057g/?filterString=search~kayland%2F&colorFamily=01

Whether you’ll be in water or not (or in and out of water), these boots will serve you well on almost any terrain. And they’re better in desert climes than all-leather boots, because they breathe a bit better and will therefore keep your feet a little cooler.

So, when you start hiking (presumably on dry ground), you wear your all-synthetic boots and your regular wool/synthetic blend socks. But in your pack, you bring a pair of thin, neoprene paddling socks (like the ones kayakers use). For example:

NRS Hydroskin socks

http://www.rei.com/product/722203/nrs-hydroskin-socks-unisex

Glacier Glove socks

http://www.sierratradingpost.com/glacier-glove-neoprene-fleece-lined-socks-for-men-and-women~p~11073/?filterString=search~neoprene-socks%2F&colorFamily=27

When you get to the point on your hike where wet feet are unavoidable, you stop, take off the dry socks, and put on the neoprene socks.

The neoprene socks will keep your feet warm, even in very cold water. And because you’re wearing boots designed specifically for hiking, you’ll be more stable and presumably more comfortable in rocky, slick, mucky streambed conditions.

Plus, you’ll no longer need two pairs of boots–one for wet, one for dry. And you won’t have to choose. Sometimes you don’t know whether you’ll be hiking in water or not. All you have to do is pack that pair of neoprene socks, just in case.

It works for us. Even on multi-day backpack trips.

Happy water walkin’.

Going hiking in southeast Utah? Butler Wash and Comb Ridge are on your agenda? Please download this pdf:

Comb Ridge 2010 (Click to download)

It contains our recently revised text and map for Trips 86 – 90 in our book Hiking From Here to WOW: Utah Canyon Country.

Why the revisions? Since the book’s publication, we re-hiked all the Comb Ridge canyons. We found much had changed in Butler Wash—primarily due to flooding, but also because greatly increased visitation has established obvious, primary trails where numerous, sketchy routes previously snaked across the desert. And we did find we’d made a couple errors.

So we’ve updated our Butler Wash / Comb Ridge content, and we want you to have it for your trip.

The Opinionated Hikers on Patrol for You

The Hole-in-the-Rock Road (HITRR) departs Highway 12 near Escalante, Utah. Running southeast into the desert, below and parallel to the Kaiparowits Plateau, it slices through Grand Staircase – Escalante National Monument and probes Glen Canyon National Recreation Area.

Where the HITRR departs pavement, it looks like any of the hundreds of humble dirt roads in Utah. But for canyon-country hikers, this is THE road, because it leads to trailheads for numerous premier hikes. Along the way, it provides access to lots of unofficial but superb campsites.

In May, while on a backcountry-research trip to update our book Hiking from Here to WOW: Utah Canyon Country, we once again drove down the HITRR. We re-hiked…

Trip 23  Peek-a-boo, Spooky, & Brimstone Gulches
Trip 26  Willow & Fortymile Gulches
Trip 27  Davis Gulch

We also re-hiked the actual Hole in the Rock: from road’s end, down to the shore of Lake Powell. It’s a hike that, for various reasons, we did not include in Hiking from Here to WOW: Utah Canyon Country. Now we can supplement the book with this up-to-the-minute field report.

As of last week, a low-clearance 2WD vehicle can negotiate the HITRR to Dance Hall Rock at 36 mi (58 km). In a few places, you’ll have to cautiously work around minor obstacles, or keep your speed up through sand. Beyond Dance Hall, you need a high clearance vehicle. Beyond Davis Gulch, 4WD is advisable.

We comfortably drove our Toyota RAV4 (7.5 inches of clearance) to about 51 mi (82 km), just past Davis Gulch. A steep slickrock ramp discouraged us from driving farther. We parked, resumed on foot, and soon encountered a patch of deeply corrugated slickrock we definitely would not have driven. It didn’t matter. We enjoyed hiking the final 4.5 mi (7.2 km) through desolate high-desert.

The panorama was engaging. Fiftymile and Navajo mountains are the dominant sights. Still draped with snow, Navajo was especially dramatic. Not a single vehicle passed us. We saw no other hikers. The solitude was delicious.

The road is obvious, and there are no forks, so navigation is not an issue. Just keep walking, or driving, to road’s end: 55.5 mi (89.2 km). Immediately ahead is a prominent cleft in the sandstone cliffs. Hike into it. This is where Mormon pilgrims in the Hole-in-the-Rock Expedition built a “hanging road” and safely, miraculously, lowered all their wagons and stock to the Escalante River.

Read a description of the expedition (pages 140 through 143 in Hiking from Here to WOW: Utah Canyon Country), and you’re in awe of their superhuman feat. Stand here, and see how impossibly vertical, rough, and forbidding their ascent route actually was, and your response soars beyond awe into speechlessness. This is where Mormon missionaries, keen to up their success rate, should bring their conversion prospects.

It’s a moderate scramble (no exposure, but frequent hands-on moves) most of the way down to Lake Powell. The final descent to the lake is on a steep, sandy trail strewn with loose rock. Distance from the top of the “hole” to the lakeshore: 1 mi (1.6 km). Elevation loss: 800 ft (244 m). Even in May, it’s hot, thirsty work. Carry at least three quarts (liters) of water per person.

Lake Powell remains cold until June. We “swam” for all of about three minutes. But after May, the weather can be too hot (90° F / 32° C) for hiking. So it’s best to wait until late September to hike here. The weather will be cooler, the lake warmer.

The Opinionated Hikers on Patrol for You

We’ve been hiking all over the Colorado Plateau for 28 years. The guidebook we wrote—Hiking From Here to WOW: Utah Canyon Country—describes “90 trails to the Wonder Of Wilderness” in this astounding region. Books have space limitations, however, so there were many WOW trips we could not include. One of them is The Maze—the most remote district of Canyonlands National Park.

Faced with the need to cull, we excluded The Maze from our book because reaching it by foot is too rigourous a journey for the vast majority of people, and because vehicle access necessitates high-clearance 4WD and requires you to endure a long, rough road.

Having just returned from the Maze, however, we want to supplement our book with this field report, which we hope will inspire anyone with curiosity, energy, a yen for canyon country, and a stalwart 4WD vehicle to explore this high-desert enclave.

Why visit The Maze? Because…

• It’s extremely isolated and therefore very lonely. You’ll probably see others at the Maze Overlook and on the ascent/descent route, but you can easily find solitude if you backpack beyond.

• It’s weirdly, mysteriously, uniquely beautiful. Before seeing it, you think, “Ah, come on, can it really be that different from all the other canyons I’ve seen?” The answer is “yes.”

• You can hike to 16, little known yet spectacular arches within The Maze.

• The Harvest Scene Panel, a mere 2-hour hike from the Maze Overlook, ranks among the most fascinating rock-art sites on the Colorado Plateau. It was painted by the Archaic People who roamed canyon country 8,000 to 2,000 years ago.

• It’s possible to feel a piquant sense that you’re truly exploring here. Not just following bootprints on an established trail, but delving into the unknown.

• The long, forbidding approach to the Maze Overlook trailhead, as well as the scarcity of water within the Maze, enhance the experience by requiring commitment, heightening your anticipation, and later boosting your sense of accomplishment.

• Before or after The Maze, you can dayhike into nearby Horseshoe Canyon to see the justifiably famous Great Gallery pictograph panel, which, like the Harvest Scene Panel, was created by the Archaic People.

The unpaved road into The Maze departs Highway 24 just 0.5 mi (0.8 km) south of the paved spur leading to Goblin Valley State Park. The initial 46 mi (74 km) to Hans Flat Ranger Station is an easy drive in almost any 2WD car. Shortly beyond, high clearance is necessary. A bit farther is a 2-mi (3.2-km) section of steep, rocky, narrow, switchbacking, 4WD-only road known as “the Flint Trail.” After descending the Flint Trail, it’s another 13 mi (21 km) on a rough (but never steep or dangerous) road to the Maze Overlook, where the on-foot descent into The Maze begins. Total distance from Highway 24 to the Maze Overlook: 75.5 mi (122 km). Because you must check-in at the ranger station, and because the road beyond, even when in good condition, prevents swift progress, allow a full day to reach the Maze Overlook.

Overall the road is not seriously challenging. You don’t need a diploma from 4WD School (4wdschool.com) as long as you’re piloting a capable, high-clearance, 4WD vehicle. Though short, the Flint Trail is the crux. Care and vigilance, more than skill, are what you need to safely negotiate it. Be prepared to make a couple three-point turns within a few feet of sharp, vertical drops. Here, as well as elsewhere en route, you’ll want a spotter: someone who can get out and confidently direct you through obstacles where the driver’s seat does not grant the optimal view of where to steer the tires for easiest passage.

A few intrepid backpackers start hiking at Hans Flat, explore The Maze, then hike all the way back out. Between the ranger station and the Maze Overlook (14.5 mi / 23.3 km), they follow the North Trail, about half of which is on the road. The distance seems trivial until you realize it’s entirely dry. Carrying sufficient water to keep you hydrated until you reach the first spring in The Maze? Later repeating that grueling task on the return trip? We don’t recommend it. If the weather’s hot, you’ll risk heat exhaustion, possibly heat stroke. And the scenery isn’t worth it. The beauty and allure of The Maze is evident only after you arrive at the Maze Overlook. So driving to road’s end is undeniably preferable.

Upon arrival at the Maze Overlook (5160 ft / 1573 m), one more hurdle remains: scrambling to the canyon floor (4580 ft / 1396 m). Some might call it “climbing.” Your perspective depends on your experience, and therefore confidence, on steep rock where you must use your hands to prevent an injurious fall. Departing the Maze Overlook, you’ll initially be hiking, but the cairned descent route soon requires you to scramble/climb where the bulbous folds of Cedar Mesa sandstone are too vertical to walk.

The young ranger at Hans Flat said, “You might want to bring 20 feet of rope to lower your packs.” The guidebook we used said the same. Both implied that only one short section of the descent posed minor difficulties and that most people, after roping their packs down, easily friction-walk through it. But you’ll find our commentary below considerably more detailed, accurate and helpful.

It’s true that some backpackers drop from the Maze Overlook, into The Maze, without roping up. They use a rope only to lower their packs in one place. But that one place requires closer to 100 ft (30 m) of rope if you want the pack-lowering exercise to be simple, easy and quick. A 20-ft (6-m) rope isn’t nearly adequate.

The scrambling, however, is exposed. Most people should, and will want to, rope-up in a couple places, then have someone in their party belay them while they down-climb. It’s unlikely an adept scrambler will fall here. But the scrambling does require agility and cool, and the consequences of falling—particularly in such a remote location—are serious. The chief benefit of roping up, of course, is increased self-assurance. That alone is usually sufficient to prevent a misstep.

We recommend you bring a 120-ft (36-m) length of climbing rope, light harnesses for the climber and belayer (or enough one-inch webbing to make swami belts), several carabiners, and some prusik cord. Assessing the descent, you might decide you don’t need the climbing equipment. Fine. But if you want it, and you don’t have it, game over.

Dayhikers—if they twice rope-up and establish belays—might take an hour to descend from the Maze Overlook to the canyon floor. Backpackers might take an additional 30 or 40 minutes if, at those two points, they also use the rope to lower their packs.

Dayhikers should remember they’ll face an approximately 45-minute ascent from the canyon to the Maze Overlook at day’s end. Having already grappled with the terrain while descending, they’ll surmount it quicker on the way out.

Excluding numerous, minor, scrambly steps on the descent route into The Maze, you’ll encounter six places that—whether or not you view them as impediments—are distinctly recognizable:

• A 9-ft (2.7-m) sheer drop into a small, slickrock bowl. It’s relatively easy thanks to contemporary moqui steps. Once the most capable scrambler in your group is down, he/she can spot everyone else.

• A concave, slickrock ledge that narrows and is increasingly slanted until you pass the midpoint. Our acrophobic friend walked it with only a little support from the rest of us.

• A keyhole pouroff where you must lower yourself to a barely-visible platform below. From there, a slender catwalk leads left to a tiny alcove. Below that you must down-climb a vertical 12 ft (3.7 m). Hand and footholds are solid, but most people won’t attempt it without a sitting belay from the alcove. It’s also possible to anchor a rope above the keyhole and belay someone from the top of the pouroff to the bottom of the down-climb. The acrophobe in our group turned back above the keyhole pouroff.

• A short but very narrow crack. Most people will wiggle down through it without hesitation.

• A longer, sharply descending crack devoid of hand holds. Working down through it is awkward, uncomfortable, time consuming, but most people won’t feel the need to rope up, because falling doesn’t seem as likely as getting stuck. Below the crack are a couple steps that are airy, exposed, but most people will take a deep breath, compose themselves, and stride over them.

• A slickrock plunge: gradual at first, then vertical. Though contemporary moqui steps lend substantial aid, most people won’t attempt it without being roped-up. A boulder immediately above serves as a solid belay anchor.

Let’s back up. Did the word “dayhike” surprise you? Perhaps you’re thinking that after such a long drive into The Maze, it would be crazy not to backpack. But dayhiking is viable here. The Maze Overlook is a gorgeous place to car camp. If you enjoy the ascent/descent enough to do it repeatedly, and if you allow yourself at least three full days, you might love dayhiking here. The 9-mi (14.5 km) loop to Chimney Rock is one of several dayhiking options. Backpacking is preferable, however, because it allows you to explore much farther and grants you the sense of being a temporary resident of The Maze.

Whether you plan to backpack or dayhike, bring the Trails Illustrated 1:40 000 topo map titled “Canyonlands National Park, Maze District, NE Glen Canyon NRA, Utah, USA.”

Remember that you’ll be in a national park, so you’ll need a backcountry permit for car-camping at the Maze Overlook as well as for camping down in The Maze. Phone the park office well in advance to make reservations.

Fill your vehicle’s gas tank at Hanksville immediately prior to departing pavement. Driving slowly in 4WD is inefficient, so you’ll be getting poor gas mileage. You don’t want to see your gas-gauge needle dropping to “E” when you’re way out in the wopwops. You’ll probably want a full jerrycan as well, just in case.

Load your vehicle with plenty of extra food and water. Rain or rockfall could make the road temporarily impassable. Getting stranded is bad enough. Stranded, hungry and thirsty is much worse.

After several weeks at home in Canmore—working long days, getting minimal exercise, chafed by the reality that little hiking is available in the Canadian Rockies until June—we felt strange, unsettled. The nomadic life is strong in us. So after taking care of essential business and stacking the rest onto our laptops, we migrated south. Early spring is ideal hiking time in southern Utah.

Leaving the icy mountains behind, we headed to the land of sun-pounded slickrock domes and sandy-floored, sinuous canyons. We traded a palette of grey and straw, for red, orange and yellow. We pitched our tent under grand cottonwoods, sat out late beneath the starry, cobalt sky, woke up to temperatures that invite hiking in shorts.

We hope you can take time this year to visit Canyonlands, Capitol Reef, or Zion national parks, or the vast, high-desert regions surrounding Moab, Torrey, Boulder, or Escalante. Bring our book Hiking from Here to WOW: Utah Canyon Country. It will ensure you make the most out of each day. You live in western Canada? A 20-hour drive is all that stands between you and another planet: southern Utah. If your home is in the northwest U.S., you’re close enough that four or five days is all you need for a quick but fulfilling canyon-country adventure.

While driving through the outskirts of Calgary, we passed a housing development with a huge sign: FINAL PHASE! Our interpretation was, yes, this is indeed the historic, final phase for these absurdly huge, utterly unsustainable, hilariously boxy, anti-architecture mansions. Even a dim awareness of reality (peak oil, climate change, global economic decline) is sufficient to recognize that these trophy homes are monuments to excess and will soon be unwanted embarrassments. Besides, homes and mortgages of that magnitude have always been anchors that severely curtail one’s independence. They represent the final phase of whatever liberty their owners previously enjoyed.

Continuing our drive south of Calgary, we saw other housing developments spilling across the prairie. All the homes are boxes. All are “detached” but none is more than a couple meters from the nearly identical box next door. All are drab shades of the drabbest colours: taupe and grey. We could not live there. Such pervasive monotony would quash our creativity. The comforts those boxes provide would not compensate us for the soul-deadening affects of uniformity, repetition, and predictability.

We’d rather be in a downtown Calgary condo, where we’d have the Bow River and several big parks nearby, and where we could participate in stimulating city life.

Approaching Lethbridge, we could see the weather was worse on the southern horizon. We stopped for gas and discovered the approaching snow storm had already knocked out the city’s electricity. Without electricity, gas pumps are inoperable. Plus the Coutts border crossing was closed, as was the highway in northern Montana. “Don’t try it,” someone told us. “Cars in the ditch everywhere.”

It seemed the snow had defeated us. Our four-hour drive south was wasted. We turned back north. But nomad determination kicked in. “I bet we can outflank this storm,” Kath said. “We’ll drive west over Crowsnest Pass into B.C., then probe south.”

It was longer by four hours, but it worked. It was a more interesting drive, too. And it allowed us to keep moving. That’s the nomad philosophy: Keep moving.