After the previous days fiasco of missing glasses and headlamp, I decided it was time to do a little cleanup and reorganization on the car and gear I was hauling around. Through the process of repacking everything, the missing items finally showed up. This is very good, as it would be pretty hard to get by without my glasses.
From Kodachrome Basin, I headed in to the small town of Escalante. Escalante is one of the main hubs for ventures into the Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument (GSENM). The GSENM spans 1.9 million acres from the cliffs and terraces of the Grand Staircase across the Kaiparowits Plateau to the Escalante River Canyons. The Monument’s size, resources, and remote character provide extraordinary opportunities for geologists, paleontologists, archaeologists, historians, biologists and exploration by adventurers like myself.
I was to venture from Escalante, 57 miles south down the dirt track known as The Hole In The Rock Road, to Lake Powell. This road follows the route taken by a group of Mormon pioneers in 1879 known as the San Juan Expedition (or Hole In The Rock Expedition). What was expected to take 6 weeks ended up as a 6 month long journey of hardship, ingenuity and faith. More detailed information on that journey can be found here.
My first stop was at the GSENM Ranger Station/Visitor Center I wanted to get the necessary camping permit and any information on the six slot canyons I planned on hiking (Peekaboo Gulch, Spooky Gulch, Brimstone Gulch, Zebra Slot, Tunnel Slot and Egypt 3). The ranger was very helpful and provided me with quite a bit of information and maps. She said that Zebra and Tunnel Slots would likely be holding water…
I guess I would find out soon enough.
Anyone headed down the Hole In The Rock Road without a full tank of gas would be just foolish, so it was off to the local station. What should have been a quick fill up ended up taking 45 minutes! At Nelsons Station (for purposes of this story), the pump was very slow, so I decided to get out of the shade and walk out to the side of the road to enjoy the sunshine. A white Ford pickup truck, with a pleasant looking big black dog in the bed laying on top of a tool chest, pulls up and parks right in front of me. Out jumps this guy wearing a big black wide-brimmed cowboy hat. He walks on by with a customary “Mornin’…how ya doin?” I reply “Just fine…beautiful day”. I turn to watch him as he heads in to the station, when I notice an old-timer with quite a large paunch tending to my fueling. I walk over to him and he states that he is attempting to get it to pump faster. Something about needing to reset the pump. But he was obviously in no hurry!
Then the guy from the pickup comes out of the station giving the old-timer a hard time about how he shouldn’t be pumping deisel fuel into my car. Then the cowboy and I get to talking about what I am doing out here in Escalante. He continues on to tell that the next time I come that I need to bring my family and that he has an old barn that he has converted into a Bed & Breakfast. He hands me a business card and some literature, leaves saying he is “lookin’ forward to seein’ ya in the future”.
I turn around again and the old-timer is still trying to get the pump going, when another pickup pulls up, a fine young lady jumps out and heads into the station. Then a few minutes later she comes back out, asking the old-timer if he is the owner and that she needs some help. But the old-timer doesn’t even seem to notice her, just keeps pumping. So she goes back into the station. Finally after close to a half hour, and two transactions on my card, he gets the tank full. But the pump doesn’t print any receipts. So I kindly ask if he could print me some copies so I can keep track of what I have in my account. “Oh…yes…I suppose I could do that”.
So into the station we go, the old-timer heads to the register and starts fiddling. Meanwhile the young lady comes up to me all distressed telling me about how her toilet is all clogged up and overflowing all over the floor…been that way for days…it is a really big mess…and it smells bad! She tells me she thinks her daughter put something down it and asks me how she can fix it. I say that it sounds like she needs to have it snaked out. She says she is new to town and asks if there is a plumber in town. The old-timer says…”Naw, nobody around here like that”. She then asks me where she can get one of these snakes. I say that I wouldn’t know where the closest place would be, it is kind of a specialized tool after all. She says, “Well, how ’bout Las Vegas? I have a friend there now”. I say, “Yes, I would think you could find one there. Just be sure you get a manual one, because I would think the electric ones would be expensive”.
Meanwhile, the old-timer is still trying to get the register to print! The damsel in distress noticing what is going on then says…”Can I help?…I used to work in gas station when I was a teenager…they had a register just like that”. I said, “Please, I need to get going!”.
Finally they get one of the two transactions to print, but cannot figure out how to print the second. So I ask, “Can you at least tell me what the total is?…I’ll just write it down”. The old-timer cuts in…”Oh…ya…I guess I could do that”.
Alrighty then! Time to head over to the local grocery store…pick up some supplies and ice for the cooler, and head on down “The Hole”. First stop is to locate the Spooky trailhead located on a spur road 27 miles down “The Hole”. At about the 12.5 mile mark I passed the turn to Devils Garden, where I had been the previous fall. And after close to an hour of bumping and bouncing down the washboarded road, I reached the trailhead. Then I located a nice quiet spot to set up camp about a mile away.
Only being early afternoon, I decided there was enough time to drive the 30 additional miles to the end of the road at the “Hole In The Rock” and Lake Powell. This is the site where the pioneers worked for months to create a way to get the 250 people, 26 wagons, and 1000 head of livestock down through the steep and narrow crevice.
When I reached the “Hole In The Rock”, I met up with a couple of young ladies from St. George who wanted their picture taken. I gladly obliged them and then climbed the crevice about halfway down to Lake Powell. What a truly incredible achievement that was for the pioneers!
On my way out, I met a young man on his spring break from Denver. He and his buddies were camped nearby and partying the afternoon away. He offered me to stay and have drinks with them, but I politely declined and told him that I needed to start the long drive back to camp.
Back at camp…sunset shots, a tasty dinner of Ramen and canned chicken…and then time for bed. It is quiet out here…really quiet…like as quiet as I have ever heard (or is it not heard?). Nothing out here but those pesky scorpions! By the light of my headlamp, I thought I saw one crawl under the tent…but I’m not going to check!…so kiddies, let this be a lesson…always sleep with your shoes in the tent when camping in the desert…otherwise you may have a rude awakening in the morning!…looking forward to the next days hike…Spooky!
