Canyonlands ~ Backpacking the Needles District

I'll get right to it ... below is our proposed pre-trip plan, which we did indeed follow through with to perfection. I would easily suggest this or a similar route for exploring the unique environment of the Needles as it covers everything from a) descending into and climbing out of canyons b) hiking along the sandy bottom of canyons c) squeezing through narrow joints between canyons d) navigating over rocks and other fun obstacles e) up-close views of the sandstone needle formations f) a jaunt through the strange elevated grassland of Chesler Park, and g) ridiculous scenery with endless photography opportunities. Plus, I believe the route to offer a perfect balance among endurance training, adventurous playtime, and sweet relaxation ... ideal for a triathlete in training, experienced backpacker, or casual hiker.

Justin and I, eager for another backcountry adventure, began organizing our Canyonlands outing in late January. Hoping for sunny, snow-free, and warmish weather, we reserved our permits for backcountry campsites EC3 and CP1 as soon as we finalized our dates {2/21 - 2/26} to coincide with a new moon. Why February? I cannot imagine who in their right mind would visit the high desert in summer's heat, let alone backpack through it, or during the more crowded spring and fall seasons. Why EC3 and CP1? Thanks to those few backpacker/bloggers out there, we were able to view photos of both campsites and concluded that they'd best fit our needs ... there also seemed to be a general consensus that they're the best, period.  We were not disappointed. Finally, why a new moon? Much of Utah and the surrounding/neighboring Great Basin is ideal for stargazing ... and, through extensive research via EarthSky, we discovered that Jupiter, Venus, Mercury, Saturn, and Mars would all be visible for the first time in years, as well as several bright stars near the constellation Orion that cannot typically be seen. Let me say, it truly was incredible -- and, if you take the time to gaze up at the night sky throughout March, the show will certainly continue.


Day One, Tuesday February 21st: Denver to Squaw Flat Campground, Canyonlands

Justin and I have the advantage of being the luckiest couple when it comes to timeframes and road trips; we happened to plan this one perfectly between two snow-laden winter storm systems in Utah and the Colorado mountains. Despite some snowpack on I-70, particularly near the Divide, we managed to reach the park boundary by 1:00 pm subsequent to a quick viewing of Newspaper Rock. The rock's surface features a concentrated collection of ancient Native American petroglyphs from various tribes, the oldest carvings dating back nearly 2,000 years! It requires only 3 minutes of your time, so do pull over and check it out.

Newspaper Rock State Historic Monument {along Hwy 211}

Squaw Flat site #13

View from the cliffs above Squaw Flat

I quite enjoyed Squaw Flat ~ the campground is more beautiful than online photos suggest, and the sandy environment is perfect for a game of horseshoes or bocce (we had both). If you're traveling in a larger group, each site has multiple tent pads and enough space to accomodate a number of people (though I think there may be a ten-person limit). Thankfully there were no such groups while we were there :) Thus, we enjoyed a few beers -including our sour cherry homebrew-, a gorgeous fire, grilled pork chops & sweet potatoes along with ample peace and quiet. I'm not sure about the pop-up van next to us though, the guy drove all the way to Canyonlands only to hang out in his vehicle ... in too close a proximity to our occupied site.

Day Two, Wednesday February 22nd: Elephant Hill TH to EC3 


The dirt road from the campground to the trailhead is well-maintained, and we didn't come across another vehicle until we reached the parking area. Our photos will paint a much more accurate image of this route than my words ever could. Essentially, we climbed up a rock staircase or two, crossed over slabs of slickrock, marched through sand surrounded by cryptobiotic soil, passed between rock walls in narrow side-canyons, and eventually descended into Elephant Canyon on our 3.4-mile journey to EC3; it was fantastically fun.

How our backcountry trek began {just beyond Elephant Hill TH}

An early view of the sandstone needle formations

Fun trail segment/Make sure you have easy access to your camera

Cryptobiotic soil (the black stuff)

The descent into Elephant Canyon presents a unique challenge with a backpack loaded down with  water and enough provisions for three nights. Since there are virtually no areas to collect water (yes, even in winter), that translates to a lot of extra weight on your back; just think of it as an added bonus on top of your already intense workout. Once in the canyon, EC1 is immediately visible. I half wished we could just set up camp there, but EC3 is literally a quarter mile or less down the sandy wash. The site is more dramatic than I imagined based solely on photos; we felt happy and cozy against the canyon wall, with a sweeping view of Elephant Canyon. The only downside I'd consider is the absence of afternoon sun since the campsite is so close to the west wall. But, who cares ... we were in Canyonlands! Shortly after setting up, we watched a lovely albeit brief sunset, heated up peanut butter & chicken chili (which we cooked the previous night over the fire ... so yummy), played a few games of Yahtzee, stared up at a very bright Orion, and finally snuggled into our sleeping bags.

                              

Day Three, Thursday February 23rd: EC3 to CP1, with a day-hike to Druid Arch

The plan: French press coffee - 2.a little miles to Druid Arch - 2.a little miles back to EC3 - disassemble tent; pick up gear; bagel & salami; 2 miles to new campsite in Chesler Park. The hike along Elephant Canyon's wash and up to Druid Arch is a must-do. The last quarter mile is steep after following the flat canyon bottom, but we were up it in a flash. Be forewarned, it will most likely be windy at the top. Oh, and the ladder is mandatory ... and totally awesome!

Druid Arch

Now, the 1-mile section that connects Elephant Canyon to Chesler Park was easily my second favorite part of our trek (after the Joint Trail). It was completely unexpected. The trail switchbacked up a steep red cliff from the sand below, disappeared into shady side-canyons on more than three occasions, and emerged to a most bizarre sight - Chesler Park. 

Chesler Park

A grand view of Elephant Canyon (though you can barely tell a canyon exists there) from Chesler Park

As a campsite, CP1 is ideal. The afternoon sun shines brightly, rocks on all sides provide excellent shelter, the ground is sandy and soft, and you have front row seats to an incredible sunset over a backdrop of mesas and buttes. It's also a perfect basecamp for different day-hikes in the area.

The Moon & Venus (can't yet see Jupiter)

Day Four, Friday February 24th: Chesler Park day-hike loop

After backcountry pancakes and maple syrup, we chose to hike counterclockwise around Chesler Park; the photos can speak for themselves. The Joint Trail is too cool.

Massive playground

Along the Joint Trail

Unfortunately, it seems that the cairn cavern I was so excited to visit no longer exists. Of course the cave is still intact, but there was just one lonely creative cairn that I could find ...

The entire 5.1-mile loop probably took us three hours at a decent pace; we were back to CP1 with plenty of daylight to spare, beers to consume, and bocce to be played. Blessed with another splendid sunset and an unobstructed night sky view we thought, 'ah, life is good' :)

Day Five, Saturday February 25th: CP1 to Elephant Hill ... and Denver, Colorado

A strange, high-pitched, and methodical sound woke us early the next morning. Oh yes, we had set the alarm (phone) for sunrise - around 6:45 am. I glanced down only to find that the phone had in fact lost a full charge of battery overnight ... thankfully the squawking raven just outside our tent was on top of things. We had no idea what time it was when we left camp, but the angle of the sun and the length of our shadows both suggested that it was early. The 3-mile hike from CP1 back to Elephant Hill was quite ordinary; however, we did come across the above walrus/gnome hat/melted hershey formations that I found amusing. Surprise, surprise, we reached the car at exactly 9:58 am! I would have been happy with noon ... 

What would you consider to be a perfect ending to a flawless trip? Hot $3 showers at the Lazy Lizard {a colorful hippie commune located along Hwy 191 as you enter Moab} and microbrews at the Moab Brewery? Precisely. Be sure to try their oatmeal stout. Justin and I had initially planned on camping at a designated BLM campground just outside of Moab on Hwy 128 so we could unwind and enjoy a fire (wood fires are prohibited in Canyonlands backcountry). Each campground  (shown here) was supposed to be open year-round. Suffice it to say, we were back home in Denver before we knew it. I think a few of the campgrounds were actually open, but once we drove past them in search of greener pastures there was no turning around. 

This itinerary worked incredibly well for us and, as I said before, I would recommend it to anyone and everyone heading towards Canyonlands. Justin and I have both seen and visited some remarkable places in this world, but Canyonlands is unlike anything ... the best way I can think of to describe it is a ridiculously fun and uniquely beautiful natural playground. I can guarantee we will be back to explore another district in the near future, most likely the more remote Maze :) 

Happy Travels!

Yosemite & the Sierra Nevada {Days 5 & 6}

Day Five, Tuesday June 21st: The Hetch Hetchy

Hetch Hetchy Valley

An environmental controversy throughout the early 1900s (as well as the potential indirect cause of John Muir's death), the Hetch Hetchy glacial valley in the less-traveled northwestern region of Yosemite was flooded by the O'Shaughnessy Dam through an act of Congress in 1913, thus forming the Hetch Hetchy Reservoir that now supplies water to some 2.4 million Californians west of the park. The dam marks the trailhead for the 14 mile round-trip trek to Rancheria Falls, the second of our backcountry destinations.

This area is held under strict security; the gated entrance only permits vehicle passage between 8 am and 9 pm during summer months {for this reason, we were forced to locate a campsite in the national forest subsequent to our late descent of Half Dome the evening prior}. Despite an early start, we were soon hiking in 95 degree weather ... thankfully this route passes underneath Tueeulala and powerful Wapama Falls, meaning we would be rewarded with a chilled glacial water soaking in less than 3 miles. After this, the remainder of the hike was rather uneventful (but certainly not for lack of scenery): wildflowers, tired legs, heat, and more wildflowers.

Tueeulala Falls

The 'trail' below Wapama Falls ~ a welcome respite from the heat

It is always discouraging to lose elevation when you know that you'll eventually need to gain it back; unfortunately, that's how the latter half of this hike felt to me. When we reached the designated backcountry campground, we continued on in search of a secluded site away from other campers as well as mosquitoes that tend to accumulate in the dense forest. Twenty minutes of exploration and significant bushwhacking was well worth the effort ~ we had a stunning view of Rancheria Falls! Unlike the dramatic plunge of Yosemite or Bridalveil Falls, the water that comprises Rancheria flows in a series of cascades more than 1,000 vertical feet to the Hetch Hetchy Reservoir below. This area is extremely serene and picturesque (below is our chosen campsite and the view) ...

Soon after our arrival, we assembled the tent, rearranged the fire ring, put the solar shower to good use, opened a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon, strolled down by the water, accidentally stumbled upon a naked sunbather, and watched the sun set as rays of color dispersed through tree branches and reflected a golden light on the water's surface. While this area has an apparent reputation for aggressive bears (and, believe me, park rangers instill a very strong sense of paranoia), the bear canister containing our food was left undisturbed throughout the night and I have no bear sightings to report. The only bad news? Mosquitoes are ridiculously attracted to me; better here than malaria-riddled Africa I suppose.

Day Six, Wednesday June 22nd: Rancheria Falls to Sequoia/Kings Canyon National Park


Honestly, the return hike can easily be summarized through a couple of photos ...

Justin preparing for another intense soaking

When we reached the car in the overnight parking lot, we drove straight to the Evergreen Lodge (several miles down the road in Stanislaus National Forest just outside the Hetch Hetchy park entrance), sat down at the bar, and promptly ordered two bison burgers and two California draft beers. Though I have no idea about the accommodations, I would recommend this place based on food and beer selection alone. Feeling rejuvenated, we set out on the four hour drive that would take us through the Central Valley ~ where most of our fruit & veggies come from ~ and Fresno to Sequoia and Kings Canyon National Park (stopping briefly at both Washburn and Glacier Point, where the overviews of Yosemite Valley are unbeatable).

Half Dome, Vernal and Nevada Falls from Glacier Point

Yosemite & the Sierra Nevada {Day 4}

Day Four, Monday June 20th: Half Dome

Standing on the summit of Half Dome subsequent to an unconventional climb felt remarkably absurd. In true Kat & Justin style, nothing about our experience was ordinary ~ enveloped by tranquility and a sense of accomplishment unlike anything I have ever felt, being here was the best moment of my life.

We had originally planned to climb Half Dome on June 21st as a day hike if we couldn’t secure a last-minute wilderness permit for Little Yosemite Valley. What happened next turned our frustration at rude and incompetent park rangers into awe at a chain reaction of favorable incidents. Upon extensive research, I discovered that we had the option to camp anywhere we wanted as long as we were beyond the designated campground and below a certain elevation. Although I explained this via telephone to Mark, an extremely unhelpful and bad-mannered park ranger, he denied any such camping existed and continued to berate me on my apparent lack of permit etiquette. Then, a few weeks before the trip, I finally managed to speak to a ranger who not only knew about the dispersed camping situation, but understood our dilemma and fixed it by issuing a wilderness permit then and there. He even rearranged the dates and changed our previously-confirmed Rancheria Falls permit to reflect the new schedule. Consequently, we were guaranteed camping solitude as well as the opportunity of summiting Half Dome on June 20th. One potential issue remained … the cables weren’t scheduled to be put in place for the season until Wednesday June 22nd, two days later.

--- The braided steel cables are always on the mountain, it’s just a matter of whether they’re “up” or not. During the offseason, they simply lie on the rock and there are no wooden boards in place to use as footholds. When the snow situation has worked itself out, the cables are raised onto a series of metal poles at regular intervals so people can hold onto them at waist-level on both sides. Some claim that, when the cables are down, the Half Dome ascent becomes the province of climbers rather than hikers; this is entirely true.  ---

Just like the snowplows on Going-to-the-Sun Road and Tioga Pass, we continuously checked the status of the cables. Once we found out that they would not be in place for the day of our hike, we packed climbing gear and hoped for the best. This then explains my ominous thoughts the evening prior; photos of Half Dome without cables look downright petrifying. Moreover, the views from Olmstead Point and the Valley had made the climb appear nearly impossible. Even as we hiked the last few steps of the steep sub-dome and stood in plain sight of the dome itself, I said “There’s just no way” out loud, over and over.

I maintained this mindset even as we watched a few (literally, a few - it may as well have been deserted up there) people go up and come back down again. Though I love to climb mountains, I truly am wary of routes that combine height with significant exposure. After 30 minutes of analyzing, mentally preparing, and continuing to utter unsure statements (“You can go, and I’ll just wait right here on this rock for you”) something in me snapped. I fastened my harness, put my gloves on, and told Justin that we’d better go before I changed my mind.

A mere 400 vertical feet separated us from the summit of Half Dome ... it should take the average person about 15 minutes when the cables are in place and the crowd factor is a non-issue. For us, this section of the climb was quite labor-intensive requiring a strong grip and, primarily, upper body strength to pick the steel cables up and haul ourselves along while pausing every so often to clip in and out or switch cables altogether. Of course, I was shaking throughout the ascent … but I actually enjoyed myself! Climbing involves strategy and precision, both of which require attention and focus (making it more difficult to think about or look at how far down we could potentially fall). I did have a minor freak-out moment halfway up when I couldn’t find anywhere to put my feet while un-clipping and was saved, as always, by Justin’s calm attitude. Words fail me as I attempt to relay my feelings on the summit or describe the stunning views of Yosemite and its granite landscape from the best possible perspective in the park.

Each person we chatted with either on the summit or en route told us that going down was easier than going up. Not at all! I hated every second of the descent, and my lower back was painfully sore from tenseness for the next few days. The problem with going down is that you have to look where you’re going … down. It also took a while to figure out the best method (cable between your legs vs. cable off to the side). Justin had no trouble, as usual. Upon returning to the safety of the sub-dome, I almost started crying out of joy. We each opened a beer and toasted to a most unforgettable experience while gazing at the route we’d just taken up and back again; it still looked insane to me, maybe even more so.

The hike back to our campsite and the car was uneventful. We decided to take the John Muir Trail to avoid an inevitable soaking on the Mist Trail and to spare our knees unnecessary strain on those killer steps. On the way, we were rewarded with perfect views of our recent conquest as well as Nevada and Vernal Falls pouring into the Merced River below. We even met a man who could have been a modern John Muir himself: older, passionate about the wildness of Yosemite, and slightly crazed. I could imagine him speaking Muir’s words as if they were his own: ‘Climb the mountains and get their good tidings. Nature’s peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees. The winds will blow their own freshness into you, and the storms their energy, while cares will drop off like autumn leaves’.

Half Dome (left) & Nevada Falls from the John Muir Trail

And so concludes one of the most memorable days . . . 

PS: This is what the route looks like on a typical summer day when the cables are in place (the NPS does issue up to 400 permits per day). Thank God we were able to climb it under MUCH better circumstances!

-Details- 
Distance: approximately 16 miles round-trip from the Valley (and quite steep)
Elevation Gain: 4,800 feet
Summit Elevation: 8,842 feet
Time: 10-12 hours on average . . . I really can't be sure how 'long' it took us
Insanity Factor: 10 out of 10, easily (the way we did it)
Hazardous/Fatal? Mmmhmm!
Worth it? Totally

Yosemite & the Sierra Nevada {Day 3}

Day Three, Sunday June 19th: Across Tioga Pass, into Yosemite & up the Mist Trail

Last June, due to substantial snowpack that I imagine was even worse this year, Glacier’s Going-to-the-Sun Road failed to open in accordance with our plans. Not only does it present a huge challenge for plows in the spring, but it is the only road that bisects the park and allows for convenient east-west travel. As our trip neared, we obsessive-compulsively checked the plowing status every hour and were eventually forced to rearrange our initial schedule. On day seven, after having spent the past two nights on the boundary between Canada and the United States, we left Waterton and prayed the road would open so we could access the remote western side of Glacier. Minutes (literally) subsequent to its official opening, we were already on Going-to-the Sun driving west. While preparation certainly pays off, so does flexibility and the willingness to change your plans (which usually results in better circumstances anyway --- in this case, an improved schedule, hardly any traffic and the satisfaction of being among the first people atop Logan Pass for the season).

This year, the opening of Tioga Pass became an unexpected issue. The day before we left Denver, the NPS announced that the road would be passable beginning Saturday June 18th ... the day before we would be entering the park. Though it cannot compare to Glacier's 50-mile 'highway', Tioga Road does offer pretty spectacular views of Yosemite's granite peaks (including an introductory glimpse of Half Dome, the next day's challenge).

Half Dome from Olmstead Point

Yosemite in the summertime is an absolute zoo. I thought we would be off-season enough to avoid significant crowds in the Valley (and we were, it does get worse) … but still! If you have any sense at all, find your way into that backcountry as soon as possible! Unfortunately, we had to drive into Yosemite Valley to pick up our Half Dome wilderness permit; the entire ordeal cost us nearly two and a half hours, not counting the time necessary to locate the trailhead, pack our backpacks, and bear-proof our car. I was hoping we could reach our campsite with enough daylight to enjoy the Mist Trail and avoid unnecessary leg soreness. It felt strange to be hiking without proper park orientation … usually we spend the first night car-camping at an actual campground to get a better sense of our surroundings.

Yosemite Falls from the Valley

The Mist Trail is STEEP … prepare yourself for an intense workout, particularly if you intend to backpack. From the Happy Isles trailhead to our chosen campsite beyond Little Yosemite Valley, we hiked approximately 6.5 miles with close to 2,500 feet of elevation gain. The Mist Trail is also WET … prepare to get a good soaking from Vernal Falls, especially during spring and early summer (the snowpack as of April 1^st this year was 178% of expected!!) But the rainbows, the views and the workout itself are absolutely worth every steep step. 

Vernal Falls (& Nevada Falls below)

Justin and I were both surprised at how quickly we reached Little Yosemite Valley, the designated backcountry campground for this area. However, our permit allowed us to create our own campsite at least a mile beyond as long as there was an existing fire ring and signs of previous impact. We found one about 100 feet off-trail and quickly changed into dry clothes before the mosquitoes descended upon our sweaty skin. I can’t even remember what we cooked for dinner; I was preoccupied with ominous thoughts that made me feel terrified and exhilarated, equally … we were going to climb Half Dome without the cables in the morning …