ROANOKE TIMES
Copyright (c) 1995, Roanoke Times
DATE: Sunday, December 31, 1995 TAG: 9512290028
SECTION: TRAVEL PAGE: F-8 EDITION: METRO
DATELINE: GRAND GULCH PRIMITIVE AREA, UTAH
SOURCE: MARTIN PFLIEGER THE ALLENTOWN (Pa.) MORNING CALL
Not in a lifetime would I have chosen this remote desert canyon in southeastern Utah as a vacation destination.
But that's why I leave my Western wilderness travel plans to a Colorado friend. Jim Burrus has never failed to find the trail that is a lot less traveled.
He did it again in June, leading our trio into this little known but starkly beautiful canyon south of the more popular - and usually crowded - Canyonlands National Park and Natural Bridges National Monument.
Atypically heavy snowfall late into the spring in the Rocky Mountains - and the spring run-off it was expected to generate well into June - persuaded us to postpone our trip to Yellowstone National Park and head for drier climates.
For four days and three nights we hiked through heat and sand, over rocks and reptiles and past the well-preserved remains of Anasazi Indian civilizations that had disappeared more than 1,500 years ago.
The Anasazi ruins are the primary attraction for people who venture into Grand Gulch. But because you can't drive your car or recreational vehicle right up to the front door of the sites, you'll likely only encounter the hardest core hikers along the way.
We saw fewer than 20 hikers over four days. One of them, who had been to the canyon before, implored me not to write about the place when I returned. It would only attract more people to the ruins, she said. More artifacts would be stolen, she said.
Perhaps, but I'm skeptical. Grand Gulch is not the typical, heavily used tourist attraction. It takes some effort to get in and out.
The canyon is hot and dry and water can be scarce. But with preparation and an above average amount of rain in the region during the month prior to our visit, we easily overcame both.
The Grand Gulch Primitive Area is about 52 miles long, beginning near the Kane Ranger Station off Utah 261 and ending near the San Juan River just northeast of where the river dumps into Lake Powell. The area is managed by the Bureau of Land Management.
We arrived at the ranger station one Sunday night after driving 450 miles from Boulder, Colo. It was too late to hit the trail, so as the sun made way for a full moon at dusk, we settled into a dinner of steaks cooked over a small grill and cold bottles of beer from Eddie McStiff's Brewery in Moab.
We slept without tents that night amid the scrub oak, under a moon bright enough to read by. Temperatures dipped into the 40s.
In the morning we registered with the ranger, left our truck in the parking lot and began the 38-mile hike toward our destination at Collins Canyon.
On our backs we carried a four-day supply of food. The stream beds were largely dry, but there was plenty of water trickling into large pools from which we drew our water, passing it through a lightweight water purifier before drinking.
We managed to cover 10-12 miles a day through the serpentine canyon. The well-worn trail began at the ranger station at an elevation of about 6,500 feet and descended very gradually to about 4,800 feet at Collins Canyon.
The trail wound from one side of the canyon to the other, down into the dry streambeds and up steep banks onto small plateaus.
I was amazed, as I have been during previous trips to the Southwest, at the plants that manage to thrive in such a harsh environment.
Green and yellow prickly pear cactus were everywhere. And the occasional solitary green stalk with a purple or yellow flower perched on top poked through the sand.
The vegetation along the stream banks was lush and tall, at times engulfing us and snaring our backpacks.
During the hike I tolerated the heat, the weight of a backpack, a sore toe and a bruised ankle bone. But it was the pesky cheat grass that caused us the greatest aggravation.
As we waded through it, small dartlike husks stuck to our socks and burrowed into them. During breaks, we took off our shoes and socks and cursed as we picked them out one by one.
During those rest stops we crawled into the shade of the canyon walls, often times dropping our packs next to an Anasazi ruin.
Some of the structures have been patched in places to prevent them from crumbling.
Pottery shards, tool fragments and small corncobs scattered about the sites are slowly disappearing, pilfered by visitors who haven't the decency to leave them alone. The images of the Anasazi's primitive language painted on the canyon walls are fading but still visible.
The earliest known inhabitants of Grand Gulch were the Basket Makers, who were thought to have evolved from a nomadic hunting and gathering culture. The Basket Makers flourished from 200 to 600 A.D. and their culture developed into the Pueblo culture.
Sitting in the shade next to these ruins, we were quick to appreciate the Anasazi's wisdom in building where they did.
The settlements were made of rocks and mud and an occasional log, and faced south from the rock ledges on which they sat. This way they were exposed to the morning sun, but by midday when it was hottest they were entirely shaded.
``It's a hard place,'' Dan Reichl, the third hiker on the trip, said one day as we rested in the shade and looked into the canyon below. That was especially true during the day. The heat was draining. Temperatures were well into the 90s, but can reach 110.
We drank when we were thirsty and until we were full. Still, it barely was enough to replenish what we were sweating away.
Real respite came when the sun went down behind the canyon rim. The brown, orange, red and black layers of the canyon walls, muted much of the day by the sun's glare, came sharply into focus then.
Although we carried them, tents weren't necessary. It didn't rain, and the nights were nearly too warm for sleeping bags.
The wildlife we didn't see during the day presumably came out at night, for the next day we saw the tracks of small deer and either wildcats or coyotes in the moist sand of the stream beds.
Also sight unseen - thankfully - were scorpions and rattlesnakes. The only reptiles we saw were small lizards racing ahead of us on the sandy trails before veering into the safety of the grass.
By noon on the fourth day we reached the mouth of Collins Canyon, hung a right and gradually ascended to a small parking lot on the desert floor. A six-mile trek down a dirt road from the parking lot would have angled us toward Utah 276, where we had planned to hitch a ride back to the ranger station and our truck.
But we were hot, tired and in search of a short cut. So Jim whipped out his compass, took a heading and led us straight across the desert to the highway.
Five minutes after sticking our thumbs out, two vans carrying youths from an Episcopal church in Farmington, N.M., pulled off the road and offered us rides. Within an hour, we were loading our packs into our truck for the return trip.
LENGTH: Long : 134 lines ILLUSTRATION: PHOTO: Martin Plieger/Allentown Morning Call. 1. Hikers scanby CNBthe horizon at Grand Gulch Primitive Area in southwestern Utah. The
canyon, which is 52 miles long, is hot (usually well into the 90s
and sometimes as high as 110 degrees) and dry, and water can be
scarce. 2. The Anasazi ruins are the primary attraction for people
who venture into Grand Gulch, but you can't drive your car or
recreational vehicle right up to the front door of the sites. 3. The
canyon offer spectacular views with its massive walls of brown,
orange, red and black layers of rock. The wall also offers respite
from the heat after the sun sets behind the canyon rim. color.