near Moab, Utah
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Pritchett Canyon near Moab, Utah |
April 25, 2014
Despite having plenty of unfinished business in the local national parks, I have opted for something different today. I will walk up one of the area's toughest jeep routes, hopeful of capturing some action while bagging a few new arches.
On the Colorado River
Be prepared
After paying a two-dollar entry fee to walk a few yards across somebody's
private property, I am into Pritchett Canyon despite the fact that the
land-owner's signpost specifies "Pritchard".
Easy going so far
Tufted Evening Primrose
Globe Mallow
This is a federal Wilderness Study Area,; so there are fences and signs
admonishing off-roaders that they must remain on-roaders
here. And no widening of routes or blazing of new trails will do, either.
Before long I reach some of the spots that the jeepers live for —
big boulders in the roadway and steep slickrock stairways.
About three miles in, I look up and see the first anticipated attraction:
Window Arch
Just beyond here the road seems to end, but I know it doesn't. I make my way up out of the gully, only to encounter a lonesome vehicle.
Can a jeep really get up here?
Well, this one did
I can see a big hole in the rock half a mile south, amazingly situated well up on the skyline:
Pritchett Arch
Zooming in on Pritchett Arch
The other side of The Window
That looks like an imposing wall over there. I will stick with the original plan to loop around to the back side first, starting with a little detour for hikers and bicycles only.
Nearing the summit
Axle Hill
Yellow Hill
At the summit the road becomes a non-technical route. I assume that most folk come up the hard way and keep on going, accessing the highway many miles south of town.
Circling around the high-point
An unlikely obelisk
There are at least two other arches nearby; but they don't appear visible
from this road, and I am not going cross-country today to hunt for
them. I should have researched this area better; for absent the
possibility of viewing more arches, I would not be back here at all.
Just a cave
That's a crack, not an arch
The road going in the appropriate direction abruptly ends at an imposing cliff. I know that there is a way to get up there; but "reforestation" signs are posted asking me not to go farther. It seems that I have walked six miles to a "Do not Enter" zone.
My research could have included asking questions at the Moab Visitor Center. I can hear voices up near the arch, doubtless belonging to the folks using that lonesome jeep. I will respect management's wishes, however, and not try to access the arch from this direction.
End of the line
Starting back
Whipple's Fishhook Cactus
With the summit in sight again, I encounter the first humans I have seen on this walk.
Two bikers approaching the summit
The head of Pritchett Canyon
Half a dozen more bikers appear somewhat farther down.
Those two eventually went around instead of up, like the third guy
This walk is shaping up to be longer than expected already; so I wimp out and pass on the idea of getting close to the big arch; besides, I do have some photos of it.
As close as I will get to Pritchett Arch
Back where the lone jeep was, there is a lot of activity now.
They are trying to negotiate a section called Rocker Knocker, where I couldn't even detect a road
Several vehicles try the right-side challenge, all unsuccessfully. One guy gets hung up and needs assistance. Eventually, everyone that I observe goes around to the left, which is no cakewalk either.
Can't make it this way,
but he can do it over there
The other guy made it look easier
I include one final photo because it probably is the last one I will take for quite a while:
They need a welder
At this juncture, the unthinkable happens. Believing that it is sand, I step onto a sloped sandy rock instead. When my foot promptly slips, I instinctively throw down my free hand to cushion the fall, and manage to badly hurt my right wrist.
Having never sustained a debilitating injury since I broke an arm by
falling out of a tree at age 15, I not only am distressed but
am rather discombobulated as well. There is nothing for it, though,
but to get up and keep on walking. No bones are sticking out, and it
doesn't even really hurt; but I still am three miles from the trailhead.
On the way down, many jeepers pass me on their way up. I make no effort
to elicit assistance, however; because I remember the worst part of my teenage
accident being the painful ride to the hospital, and that was on flat, paved
streets. No, I just keep on walking and even half-running down the
road some, thinking that saving time could be important.
After what seems more like six miles than just three, I make it to
the car and drive the five miles into town, getting directions to the
hospital from a couple of joggers. After waiting twenty minutes in
the lobby for the emergency ward to clear out the "noontime rush", they
take some X-rays. It seems that I have fractured the wrist in
three places, and one of the bones is significantly out of place as well;
so I did not get lucky. After putting on a splint and writing
prescriptions for fifty dollars' worth of pain pills, they send me on my way.
My vacation being over five days early, I simply head toward home,
driving 200 miles to Salina for the night. The next morning,
it is snowing everywhere; so I opt to take weather out of the equation
by detouring southward through Las Vegas and Bakersfield.
13½ hours and another 900 miles later, I am home in Sacramento.
§: Well, that wasn't a good day at all. Not only did I fail
to attain the primary objective, but I broke my body in the process.
So much for any illusions of invincibility. I have detailed my mishap
only because I consider it germane to hiking discussions. Some accident
could befall anyone who dares to leave the bunny trail —
especially on a sandy jeep road.
It also was just plain bad luck that I was stashing my camera in my pack,
meaning that my walking stick was uncharacteristically in my left hand;
otherwise, this right-handed person would not have to be typing hiking
journals or wiping his butt with the wrong hand. On the bright side,
surgery appears to be avoidable, and I never did need any of those pain pills.
Regarding the hike, the canyon had its interest, but there are other ways to access Pritchett Arch. I didn't let my fall affect the hike's rating, but I did detract something for the unfriendly walking conditions.
| Scenery |  |
| Difficulty |  |
| Personality |  |
| Solitude | |
It's not a natural bridge
