The Great Gallery Canyonlands National Park |
April 21, 2011
I woke up this morning in Grand Junction, Colorado, intent upon checking
out the Rattlesnake Arches area in the Black Ridge Wilderness. It had
rained some yesterday, however, rendering the 10-mile 4WD road
impassable. Because I need to be home tomorrow — a
thousand miles west of here, I must choose an alternative hike that is
somewhere along the way. This one fits the bill, and it is on my
must-do list; so here I am.
The dirt road in from the highway proves quite unfriendly. Although
it is graded, that's the problem. The inevitable washboards force me
to slow down to as little as 10-15 miles per hour much of the time,
in order to keep the car from shaking apart. It takes well over an hour
to cover the 32 miles to the destination.
The access road is interesting, but enervating
At the trailhead parking lot, the wind is blowing quite strongly. Perhaps it won't be so bad down in the canyon. I drop a plastic sandwich bag onto the ground, and almost before I can react, the thing has blown a hundred yards across the desert. I fear that I'll be unable to retrieve it. Sorry.
My kind of regulations — only hikers need apply!
The trail begins with a 600-foot downhill into the canyon on the sand and slickrock of a former 4WD road.
First view of Horseshoe Canyon
This little section of Canyonlands, detached from the northwest corner of the park, was created solely to protect the artifacts in this canyon.
Fairly easy going on a well-engineered gradient
Oily fingers hasten the paintings' destruction
I am pleased to see that the wind has died down significantly. Before walking far, I spot some pictographs high on the sheer cliff to the left. This shows how much lower the canyon bottom is now than when those paintings were drawn.
The artwork is located well up the wall
The High Gallery
Oh, oh. I have made a huge, stupid mistake. In my haste to get going, not only did I not pack a spare camera battery, but I have left my backup unit in the car as well. Having used my present camera on two hikes yesterday, I cannot be sure how much life remains. I had better wait until I reach the main attraction before starting to take a lot of pictures.
Being on a forced just-get-there mission, I dispatch the entire
3½ miles without even pausing for a drink of water. I am amazed
at how easy the walk has been, considering that this is my eighth consecutive
day of hiking. Admittedly, the average redrock-romp is much
less strenuous than a typical high-mountain outing.
It is nice to have some water around, even if it
isn't flowing. It will be gone soon
Suddenly, I am there. What a treat! North America's premier pictograph panel is sprawled in front of me. Some consider it the finest such site in the world.
A closer view ⇔ {enlarge me and
scroll around}
Those figures are deceptively large, being up to seven feet high and more. One has to be here to properly appreciate the size of the paintings.
The famous Ghost Panel
Dating the figures in this canyon has proved difficult
Some researchers suggest that the big panel, being so unique, might be a depiction of an alien encounter; this notion, albeit fanciful, is at least conceivable. Some other writers refer to it as the "Holy Ghost Panel", but ascribing Christian designations to prehistoric art makes no sense at all.
The Park Service has set up a shady little resting and viewing area here. Two metal boxes house big pairs of binoculars for visitors to use. Reproductions of these panels can be found in New York's Museum of Modern Art and Denver's Natural History Museum.
I have had the place to myself for half an hour now. For much of that time I have been content simply to sit on a stone bench, marvel at the ancient drawings, and contemplate my existence.
Another fifteen minutes pass before I hear a distant voice. As my reverie is about to be interrupted, I prepare to depart.
A last look back at the awesome site ⇔
A lone little girl approaches me and asks, "Is this the way?" I say that it is, so she continues up the wash on her own. About a minute later, mom makes her appearance.
She will do it her way
A giant alcove looms ahead. Other hikers are checking it out, and so must I.
Lo and behold, this cave sports another big panel of drawings!
There has been planty of vandalism
It is relatively dark in here
A tiny hiker provides some perspective on the size of this place
Continuing up the trail, and no longer concerned about running out of juice for the camera, I shoot at will.
Heading north
An unusual configuration
Ahead on the left is yet another pictograph panel. This one features the first drawings of animals that I have seen today.
This gallery has the most interesting and varied figures of all.
Around the next bend I reach the northern end of the walk and prepare to ascend the canyon wall.
I presume that by now you have seen the movie
127 Hours — a biographical adventure about canyoneer
Aron Ralston, who was forced to sever his own right arm in order to free
himself after five days of entrapment in Blue John Canyon.
And it was right here that Ralston was rescued in real life, after having first made contact with other hikers back near the Alcove Gallery. The magic helicopter came out of that blue northern sky and whisked him off to the Moab Hospital.
The 127-hour ordeal ended here, in Horseshoe Canyon
I start up the slope that Aron knew he would be unable to negotiate. His rescuers had arrived just in time (see Addendum).
Climbing out of Horseshoe Canyon
An unusual stairway in the sand
The shaded part is the trail
The sight of cars parked at the trailhead prompts me to increase my pace; somehow I am not feeling a bit tired.
At the trailhead, the wind is fiercer than ever. As soon as I start
driving I am engulfed by a sandstorm, the likes of which I have not encountered
previously. At times it is so bad that I cannot see the roadway; but that
really doesn't matter much, for I am compelled to proceed at just 10 mph
anyway. An hour and a half of relatively blind driving begets the highway,
where rain accompanies me for the next hundred miles westward.
§: Well, I got my uncommon experience today. It being difficult
to recap my elation at having taken the finest imaginable pictograph walk,
I shan't even try. Go there.
Scenery | |
Difficulty | |
Personality | |
Pictographs | |
Solitude |
ADDENDUM
I would mention one other thing about the movie 127 Hours:
Some of the dialogue is partially misleading, in that it conveys the impression
that Aron Ralston's accident and five-day ordeal occurred inside "the
park", which it did not. The entirety of Blue John Canyon (the scene of
Aron's ordeal) lies south of the Canyonlands Park border. After his escape,
Ralston did scramble northward into the park and past all the
rock art — a total of four miles to the rescue point.
The movie was fine, and it garnered six Oscar nominations. Read the book, though; there is so much more to it.