The Maze District, Canyonlands National Park [AAW17]
“If we take in our hand any volume of divinity or school metaphysics, for instance, let us ask, Does it contain any abstract reasoning concerning quantity or number? No. Does it contain any experimental reasoning concerning matter of fact and existence? No. Commit it then to the flames: for it can contain nothing but sophistry and illusion.” -- David Hume, An Enquiry Concerning Human Understanding
I was reacquainted with the above quote during my reading this week -- and, as always, it was nice to touch base again with an old friend. It is easy to see where David Hume sits on the continuum between empiricism and mysticism - and I believe he is sitting in my seat (my I see your ticket sir?).
Of course, I am not writing on divinity or metaphysics - per se. Although, as a metaphysical naturalist, one could almost include some phrases as mildly metaphysical in nature. I suppose. My writing is definitely non-fiction and generally of, or about, the natural world and I strive hard to omit sophistry and illusion.
Still, there are people and places that can obtain a mythical and even mystical place in my brain. Ideas that, left unregulated by empiricism, can expand beyond their logical and measurable facts of existence. David Hume may be one of those people. The Maze was definitely one of those places. The first time I had ever heard of The Maze (always with the capitalized article), was in an essay by Ed Abbey in Desert Solitaire. At the time I was held hostage by life and living within the city limits of Houston, TX (a dank, fetid, and dreary place best avoided by happy people).
Over the years since I have been in the vicinity of, but never into, The Maze. It was time to generate some data. Time for some experimental reasoning concerning the fact of The Maze lest I succumb to sophistry and illusion. Reality is the best tonic. It even mixes well with gin.
There are two basic routes into The Maze District in Canyonlands National Park. There is the overland route requiring a high clearance vehicle and lots of gear. Then there is the water route via a hired taxi service (cheap) that merely requires desire and some free time. Being lazy, I chose the water route. Much less preparation - some food, sleeping bag, a sweater, comfortable shoes and we're off to Spanish Bottom just below the confluence of the Colorado and Green rivers.
As the jet boat departs we find ourselves with another party of 5 or 6 hikers. They all have 1 or 2.5 gallon jugs in each hand along with what appear to be pretty heavy packs. They are heading to a dry camp tonight 3 or 4 miles away. We, being reluctant to carry such heavy loads chose to do the 8 or so miles to Water Canyon where, if it is named correctly, there should be water. We start the 1,200-foot climb from the river to the plateau and never see the aquarians again.
The hoodoos of the Doll House greet us at the top of the trail and we stop for a bit of lunch. The Doll House, and much of the exposed bedrock in The Maze District is the Permian Cutler Group consisting of shales and sandstones deposited in the approximately 47 million years between about 297 and 252 million years before present (bp) leading up to the Permian-Triassic extinction event also call "The Great Dying." Almost all the marine species and the vast majority of land animals and insects going extinct.
After an bit of sight seeing around The Doll House, we start the walk to Water Canyon. Along the way we decide to take an additional loop out to see the confluence of the Green and Colorado Rivers. We drop the packs at the trail junction and walk out to take a look.
Not a bad view. The rivers have cut impressive canyons into the plateau. This alone would have been worth the price of admission.
Spring is the best time to hike in the desert. The weather, water and flowers are best for human happiness and survival in the spring. The river trip took then entire morning. The relatively short daylight hours during spring mean that we are going to be setting up camp and cooking in the dark. Not a major problem. Hiking in the dark can be annoying though. But, we take one last long view across the Colorado River to the Needles District.
We leave the overlook, walk back to our packs and continue on our way to Water Canyon. We get to the edge of Water Canyon as dusk is approaching. We drink the last of our water and make our descent.
We find water in Water Canyon. We set up camp and cook by headlamps then off to a well deserved sleep.
The next morning I find the most important "matter of fact and existence" one can know when traveling on foot in The Maze: water occurs where limestone crops out in the canyon floor. The limestone is less permeable to water flow relative to the predominant sandstones in the strata making up The Maze district. Precipitation percolates into the porous sandstone and slowly flows into the limited but apparently constant flow of groundwater migrating through the rock. When it encounters the limestone layer, the flow changes from vertical to horizontal and it flows out into the canyons. As in most desert places, there is water. You just have to know how to find it. Now, if you found it because you hiked to a canyon named Water Canyon, well all the better I suppose. But next time we'll find it by looking for the limestone outcrops in the next canyon we explore: Shot Canyon.
Water Canyon even provided us with water in multiple phases: liquid and solid.
After breakfast, we pack up, filter some more water, climb out of Water Canyon and drop down into Shot Canyon.
At this point we've developed a working hypothesis on the occurrence of water in this section of The Maze. Another data point would be good to have to firm it up. So after dropping into Shot Canyon, we head downstream looking for the limestone outcrop and/or water.
Well, I hope that Mr. Hume would approve: In this volume, I have provided "experimental reasoning concerning matter of fact and existence" of water in The Maze so one should not, "commit it then to the flames" for containing, "nothing but sophistry and illusion." OK, I agree, I am forcing this comparison a bit, but I hope my mindset is clear enough.
After completing our experiment, we turn around and head back up canyon looking for the exit. Both Shot and Water canyons were used for grazing livestock in the past. Ridiculous, I know, but true. Shot Canyon was so called because some quantity of dynamite was used to blast a passage for the bovine scourge.
Shot Canyon is relative wide and level in the bottom. The trail heads southwest to the head of the canyon. The route out of the canyon is not obvious upon casual observation.
We follow the cairns winding around on ledges and over short steep climbs until we near the top where someone has gone to the trouble of building a rickety ramp of rocks to assist egress.
As we reach the plateau the view opens up and we see "The Land of Standing Rocks" - specifically Chimney Rock. A small remnant of the Organ Rock Shale that once covered the entire area.
It is a particularly windy day and we make our way along the ridge above Jasper Canyon heading for a spring in The Maze - the set of canyons for which The Maze District is named and that has been an object of curiosity for almost half my life.
We descend a side canyon and enter The Maze, find the spring and set up camp nearby. The wind eases off and we have a nice evening for cooking and eating. An after supper walk provides a nice view of an arch high up on the canyon rim. Clear skies overnight provided for excellent star gazing.
We spent a couple of days exploring the side canyons of the maze and could have easily spent even more time. There were many highlights but one of the most impressive sites is an artifact of human origin: The Harvest Scene pictograph panel in Pictograph Fork. The artwork was done by Paleoamericans that lived in the area between 8,000 and 2,000 years before present (bp).
Rock art is always amazing and exciting and it is hard to keep the wild speculation under control. But I will. All we can really say is that is was apparently very important to someone to put these images on the canyon wall.
After spending a couple of days in The Maze proper, we climb out and head over to the south side of the district - the part that drains directly into the Colorado River that is called "Ernie's Country." Our first destination is Lou's Spring. Sadly, our route means that we have to cross a jeep road. We figure that the traffic will not be too bad. If we are lucky, we will see no one, hear no vehicles, smell no exhaust. But, just as we reach the road, a shiny new Rubicon comes around the corner and roars up next to us.
Astonished Jeep Driver: Did you guys just walk up out of that canyon?
Us: Yea, it's a nice walk.
Astonished Jeep Driver: Where is your vehicle?
Us: Moab.
Astonished Jeep driver: How the hell did you get in here?
Us: Came down the river. Hope you have a nice trip.
We turn to walk away and the driver gets out with his map and calls us back. He is dying to know our route, where we found water, where we are going next, how will we find water, etc. We fill him in on all the simple details. He finally pauses, shakes his head and says, "I had to buy this expensive jeep to get in here and you guys are just walking around? Hope you guys find water and make it out all right."
We thank him for the good wishes and head on down the road looking for the foot trail to Lou's Spring. It has been another long day and by the time we get to the spring it is dusk. We then realize that our water filter has fallen from the pocket of our pack. We have been filtering water everywhere to prevent infestation by some sort of water-borne bacteria, virus or prion. Now, here at the spring we have to resort to chemical treatment or drink it straight. The spring looks sanitary enough and the flavor of iodine persuades us to give it a try.
The next morning, after listening to a night-long duet performed by a Great Horned Owl and a Western Screech Owl, we inspect the spring in the daylight. Neither of us feel any ill effects from the water but we are both a bit stiff and sore from sleeping on the rock ledge in the vicinity of the spring.
The spring itself is quite an artifact.
Lou's Spring is named after a member of the Chaffin family that grazed cattle in the area in the first half of the last century. It was installed in the 1930s as a WPA project. The flow is low but steady and it has provided for many in the past 85 years.
We used Lou's Spring as a base camp for another night so we could explore Sand Tank Canyon during the day. Our goal in Sand Tank Canyon was to explore The Fins and get a glimpse of Tibbett Arch.
The Fins are likely the result of the same geologic processes that create many of the interesting rock forms in this part of Utah - deformation of underlying salt beds. Salt is actually quite fluid if you consider it as a unit several hundred feet thick and extending for a few miles in either direction. The stress applied by hundreds to thousands of feet of overlying rocks force the salt to slowly flow like a viscous liquid - in geologic time frames. A common response is for the salt to flow into domes - sometimes just shallow bulges, other times semi-spherical blobs of slat that actually move up through the rock toward the surface. Here the salt likely formed a dome and pushed up on the overlying sandstones causing them to fracture along parallel planes. Differential erosion, the best friend of landscape lovers everywhere, then did the rest. The Fins are strikingly simple, elegant and just one more amazing bit of the earth I would recommend a visit to when you get a chance.
On up the wash in Sand Tank Canyon we get a nice view of Tibbett Arch.
That evening we made it back to Lou's Spring and had a nice supper as the sun was setting. We enjoyed yet another nice show of stars with the Milky Way a bright swath of lights across the sky. Then, one of the more dramatic events I've witnessed occurred. An extremely bright meteor flew across the sky from canyon rim to canyon rim and after is disappeared, with the flash still burning in our retinas, we heard a loud boom. I suppose it was a sonic boom. It was so bright and noisy that folks from Moab saw it in town.
The next day we drank our fill at Lou's Spring then headed out to Sweet Alice Canyon. On the way we stopped a Clell's Spring (much like Lou's but smaller reservoir and much less flow) and filled up every container we had since there was likely no water where we would be camping in Sweet Alice Canyon.
Once we arrived, we put our packs in the shade and headed up the canyon for a bit of exploring.
Muffin Arch was located at the end of Sweet Alice Canyon. It is in the picture below. You will probably never see it since it is all but invisible. The brightest sun streak in the image almost crosses it.
We turned around and slowly strolled back to our campsite. After sleeping on rock for the last two nights we were interested in finding a bit softer ground to pitch our tents. We then did something that no one should ever do. Even "Boy Scouts" know you should never do this because it is sure death. But, since we could literally see all the way to the top of the watershed, and since the weather was dry and cool with almost no chance of rain, we pitched our tents in the soft sand in the middle of the wash. We put the rest of our gear up out of the wash so all we would have to drag to shore, in case of a flash flood, was our tents and sleeping bags. Which, in worst case we could live without since we were catching the river taxi on the next day. Just keeping life exciting.
Some combination of exhaustion and the soft sand bed made this the best sleep of the trip. The only down side was the groundwater evaporating through the sand made it a bit damp. But the cold damp air was actually nice for a change.
The last day was spent completing our loop and returning to Spanish Bottom to catch our ride back to the land of Moab for a shower, good pizza and good beer (all beer is good after a seven days without). The Maze is probably not for everyone, but if you want some solitude and a really nice walk, I highly recommend you give it a try.
Best of luck.