In Search of Water | Grand Gulch #1

Last year, we got our second taste of Grand Gulch, and even before we returned home, I knew I wanted to hike the whole thing. Not all at once - I'm insane, but not that insane - but over the course of several trips.

Almost immediately we knocked out a big chunk of the route when we took @mini.turbodb on her first ever - and still only - backpacking trip, putting a serious dent in the northern half of the Gulch in the process. Note: she has not - to date - requested a repeat performance. She does still speak to us, though, which - when traveling with a teenager - is basically a five-star review.

And now, we're headed back. We'll enter the gash in the Earth via Collins Canyon and make our way north to the Government Trail - the previous start of our long trek north - enjoying the towering sandstone walls, slickrock surfaces, and ancient artwork along the way.

Or at least, that's the plan.

- - - - -

Even from Las Vegas, it's a long drive to the Grand Gulch, so even after a 6:30am departure from home, we arrived in Page, Arizona - still hours from our destination - at dinner time. Luckily for us, we knew a good Mexican eatery and were soon enjoying wheel-sized plates of food and an endless supply of chips.

We arrived at the trailhead just after 1:00am, and within minutes we were asleep. I'd set my alarm for 6:30am - early, but still a couple hours after sunrise - in the hopes that five hours of shuteye would be enough to power our legs through the day's activities.

We had plenty to do when the alarm woke us. Pulling our packs and gear out of the duffel bag we'd used to transport them, we battled already-warm temperatures as sleeping bags, pads, the tent, food, clothing, and camera gear were all tucked away just so. Having picked up a few two-liters of soda, I dumped half of one into my wonderful cup and secreted it away in the fridge for our return. We then gifted the rest of the soda to a nearby pine - don't worry, it was diet - before refilling the containers with 8L of water. It was enough water for a day-and-a-half, or possibly two days, meaning that we'd need to find more of the precious liquid on our three-day journey.

And then - the water once again turning our pleasantly light packs into burdensome beasts - we were off!

No matter where we hike in Grand Gulch, there is always plenty to see. Usually - and it would be no different this time - most of what we find is Native American in origin. Rock art - both pictographs and petroglyphs - and ruins would be responsible for nearly all of our stops, and even so, we surely passed more than we saw. But Collins Canyon has something a little different, and I was looking forward to seeing the Cowboy Camp that was tucked into an alcove just above a major spillover.

I wasn't able to find any solid information on this cowboy camp in particular, but it was likely operated connected to one of the most storied cattle empires in the American West.

This area was once part of one of the more spectacular chunks of private land in the West, that now covers 5,000 acres in the Indian Creek drainage adjacent to the Needles District of Canyonlands National Park and is surrounded by towering Wingate sandstone cliffs and formations. It was first settled by white folks in the 1880s, although BLM records suggest the homestead wasn’t patented until 1915 by David Cooper.

Three years later Al Scorup - known as the “Mormon Cowboy” - and his brother Jim teamed up with Moab’s Somerville family to purchase the Indian Creek Cattle Company and the Dugout Ranch. They had a rough go of it: cattle prices crashed, the Spanish Flu killed Jim and his wife, and a hard winter killed 2,000 head of the company’s cattle.

But the Mormon Cowboy held on and by 1927 had permits to graze 6,800 cattle on U.S. Forest Service land, more than any other permittee in the nation. By 1936 - two years after the Taylor Grazing Act was passed - the Scorup company recorded running 4,000 cattle on federal Grazing Service (now BLM) land, across much of Beef Basin, Dark Canyon, White Canyon, and Grand Gulch. Eventually, the Scorup-Somerville herd was estimated to be between 7,000 and 10,000 head grazing on range estimated to cover 1.8 million acres.

Grazing in the Gulch has always been controversial. Richard Wetherill - an amateur explorer who made two expeditions to the Gulch excavating many ruins and removing many artifacts - complained about grazing in the Gulch as early as 1897. It was eventually excluded from Grand Gulch and its tributaries when the BLM established the Primitive Area in 1974 to protect the archaeological and natural resources.

West’s Sacred CowGrand Gulch WSA

As usual, I was easily distracted and using up precious daylight as I wandered around the cowboy camp. Luckily, my companion gently nudged me along, and soon we were working our way further down the canyon under the most fantastically warm lighting conditions.

As we neared the second spillover - which, like the first had a wide trail blasted into the sandstone in order to herd cattle in and out of the canyon - we caught our first glimpse of an unnamed arch. Affixed to the canyon wall, it was almost handle-like in appearance, giving the impression that perhaps the entire hillside was just a big hollow teapot.

And then, before we knew it, we'd arrived at the junction between Collins Canyon and Grand Gulch. In what seemed like no time at all, we'd covered two miles; the easiest access to the Grand Gulch we'd ever experienced! We couldn't think of any better way to celebrate than to head off in search of our first rock art - in the opposite direction than the rest of our trek!

We tried to maintain an upper ledge as we worked our way down canyon, both to save ourselves from unnecessary climbs while carrying our packs, but also because the views from just a few dozen feet above the main channel are spectacular.

I spotted the "ladder" from a distance. Even making our way around on bench above the wash, the ruin we were after was two benches above us. The first was an easy scramble up some sticky slickrock, but the second was an overhang with no real footholds.

As would be the theme for the day, one detour led to another, and soon we were searching the red walls for an area that'd been used as a canvas in ancient times. I didn't remember if we'd find pictographs or petroglyphs there - or even if they'd be any good - but I had a red dot on my GPS, so we had to find them.

Having departed the trailhead with a three day, 26-mile hike plotted on our GPS, we'd just added an additional mile to that total by taking this little detour.

Still, it was only the first time the pocket mainframes would be cheerfully ignored. By the end of the trip, we'd add 10 miles - and somehow subtract a day - from our plans, making the GPS track look less like a planned route and more like we'd tied the device to a schizophrenic squirrel.

Finally, it was time to head up canyon.

Really, while technically we were headed uphill, one of the best things about Grand Gulch is that the elevation gain is on the order of 125 feet per mile. Even carrying our packs, that sort of elevation gain feels flat. Of course, the climbing up and down from one bench to the next more than makes up for the lack of elevation gain on the part of the trail.

Our legs still reasonably fresh, we made good time despite the sandy conditions in the wash. We tried to avoid the sand whenever possible by following use trails up onto the benches, but especially in the lower part of our hike, the soft surface made every step seem twice as hard as it should have been.

The real solution - we determined - would have been to hire a sherpa. And a segway.

No matter where we were in the canyon, there were lizards. I don't know the lizard lifecycle or if they were more prolific this year than others, but it seemed that every time we moved a few feet, one or two would quickly scurry away into the dry leaves or desperately try to get a foothold on the slippery sand walls in an attempt to escape the sure death that was two hikers out looking for rock art. They were all super speedy, too, the bright sun and 80°F heat warming their blood and powering those little legs of theirs.

By now, we were nearly six miles - plus whatever detours we'd taken - into our trek. We'd already stopped for lunch, where we'd been rather stingy with our water - even as warm PB&J sandwiches threatened to cement themselves to the inside of our mouths - since we hadn't yet run into any accessible water in the streambed. In fact, as we'd descended into the Gulch, we'd run into a couple who had cut their trip short - and were on their way back up to the trailhead - because they hadn't found any water near the mouth of Collins Canyon, where they'd planned to make base camp for the next few days.

So, when we ran into our first pothole - which I noted on the GPS as "Large pool of relatively nice water. Stagnant. Green. With larva" - we were thrilled. While there were still countless ways to kill ourselves over the next couple of days, we probably weren't going to die from lack of water. And that felt like progress.

It would turn out that we would find more than 15 pools of water as we explored both the main Gulch and a few side canyons; While we only ended up availing ourselves of two, I'd say that a third of them were directly filterable, another third would have been fine with a pre-filter, and a third were disgusting - absolutely infested with larva to the point of being completely black.

At this point, though, we still had many liters of sun-warmed water, so we pushed on toward one of the more well-known ruins in this part of Grand Gulch.

Bannister House

Bannister Spring, located nearby, is a reasonably dependable water source and was perhaps what made this alcove a desirable site in prehistoric times. Water was crucial to survival and, although this area is quite dry, this source combined with water from nearby potholes and seeps could have supported early residents.

Nels Nelson, a member of the Cartier expedition, recorded the site in 1920. A stabilization project was undertaken in 1965 by the University of Utah following the BLM assigning a site number to Bannister House. The team focused on the kiva and upper level and matched the color and texture of the original mortar. There is speculation that there was once an easy natural access that has since crumbled or deteriorated, though it is unknown when the upper site became inaccessible.

The lower portion of this site consists of a double-walled kiva with an intact roof and a large open activity area. While the kiva roof is very delicate, it is in excellent condition. The BLM placed a barrier around the kiva and midden in 2003 to protect the fragile parts of this site. Please respect this closure, and please do not lean against the walls or attempt to climb into the kiva.

In the upper level, there are two or three jacal (waddle and daub) structures that are enclosed by a large masonry wall with a banister along the ledge. Hence the name, Bannister House. The safest view of the upper portion can be seen by crossing the wash and looking up through binoculars.

This kiva is somewhat unique in that it is above ground while most kivas are subsurface. The best view of the inside can be obtained by peeking through the ventilator shaft (small opening on the front side) or viewing it from the side.

The lower reaches of Grand Gulch contain spectacular rock art, with several sites in this area, although the concentration is less than in the upper portions of Grand Gulch. Perhaps the reason for this is the lack of water and the warmer temperatures due to the lower elevation. The solitude and serenity of this region are highlights as well as several peregrine falcon nests.

For modern Native Americans, including Hopi, Zuni, and Rio Grande region Pueblos, places like Bannister House provide a direct connection to their ancestors. They consider these sites living places that evidence the lives of their ancestors. Archaeological sites of the Cedar Mesa region also often hold great spiritual value for modern-day descendants. Native Americans still visit these sites for cultural, ceremonial, or religious reasons. Please visit these places with proper care and respect for the values these places still hold for Native Americans.BLM

As with many ruins sites, there was also a bit of artwork on some of the nearby sandstone walls. In fact, I ended up wandering nearly half a mile back down canyon - twice - looking for a couple anthropomorphs that I hoped to find in the area. I never found them - though I think I know now where they are, obviously not here - but I did find some cool pictographs and one of the few petroglyphs we'd see all trip!

We spent nearly an hour poking around the general vicinity, me looking for a few anthropomorph figures I knew had to be nearby (they were not), and @mrs.turbodb - the more intelligent of us - availing herself of a nice flat rock for an after-lunch nap.

Even though we'd covered six miles, we still wanted to cover at least another three or four - plus little side trips - before we were done for the day. Oh, and our water situation still technically described as "fine, probably," or a least, "not dead yet." Onward!

 

 

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