The Two-Track of My Fear: Backpacking the North and South Rainbow Bridge Trails

 

Rainbow Bridge viewed from the east, with snowy Navajo Mountain in the background. 

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On the south flank of Navajo Mountain, deep in the Navajo Nation, we came to a fork in the dirt road leading towards the South Rainbow Bridge trailhead. A sign between the forks warned of private residences and said to “Keep Out” but didn’t specify which fork was private. 

 

We chose wrong, of course, and as we turned to go back the way we’d come, a Navajo man came out of his house to speak to us. I apologized nervously, but he was friendly, directing us to another road that bypassed his property. In the background, a woman stood in the doorway speaking loudly in Navajo, probably reminding us to read the damn road signs. The man ignored her, looking at my Transit camper (AWD, but still a van) and remarked, leaning over a little to check the clearance, that the road to the trailhead was “a little rough” but that I could “probably” make it. Scott and Bay were in a 4WD Tacoma, better suited to bad roads.

 

Once on the bouldery two-track leading to the trailhead, I realized two things: 1) the road was not a “little” rough, and 2) once you started up, there was no turning around. Several days later, we met a group from Moab hiking the opposite direction with a young Navajo woman. One of them asked a little incredulously, “Is that your van at the trailhead!!??," assuring me that, "We’ll keep you in our thoughts.”

 

The next morning, we loaded our packs into Scott and Bay’s Tacoma and drove to the North Trailhead on a less rocky but steeper road to begin the 35-mile hike around Navajo Mountain to Rainbow Bridge and back to the van. 

 

Navajo Mountain is igneous, protruding through Navajo Sandstone cut into deep canyons extending radially from its foothills. Some of the canyons drain directly west into Lake Powell while others take a more circuitous route to the Colorado River. The challenge is climbing in and out of canyons as you walk across the grain of the drainages, but the rewards are glimpses of beautiful riparian oases just greening up in the early spring warmth, dotted with blooming redbud trees, and of course Rainbow Bridge itself, a huge arch spanning Bridge Canyon. Most people who see Rainbow Bridge come from Lake Powell, leaving rented houseboats at a Park Service dock a mile or so west of the formation, but the first glimpse of the Bridge from the east is unique and untainted by the bathtub ring left by the shrinking reservoir.

 

On each of the four nights we spent on the hike, we turned in soon after dark, as campers of a certain age do when the chill of evening sets in. In my tent, I read David Roberts’ “On the Ridge Between Life and Death,” his memoir grappling with his climbing obsession and its consequences. Roberts retells the story from his first book, “The Mountain of my Fear,” an account of the first ascent of a fierce alpine route on Mt. Huntington in the Alaska Range, where one of his partners was killed in a rappelling accident after summiting. Later, after putting the book aside, I lay awake wondering if I’d be able to drive the van back to the highway at the end of the trip, and the consequences if I couldn’t. I doubt that my anxiety matched that of freezing alpinists fighting storm-battered and corniced Alaskan ridges, but it kept me awake for a at least a while each night when I should have been thinking about redbud blossoms or listening to the Western screech owl outside my tent.

 

We awoke on the final morning to the sound of light rain on our tents, but a nearby sandstone alcove provided a dry place to make breakfast, and the rain stopped just in time to start the long climb to the south trailhead where the van waited. As we climbed, the rain turned to snow but never accumulated. And in the end, the drive out was mostly downhill, easier than the drive in with gravity helping to push the van over the rocks. We camped that night on the north flank of Navajo Mountain just as the storm cleared, with expansive views over intriguing canyon country deep in Navajo country. Bay rode my bike the last three miles to retrieve her Tacoma, saving me the risk of getting stuck on the steep, muddy road, while Scott and I enjoyed a cold drink and got dinner organized. 

 

Anxiety is seldom caused by time away from modern conveniences (like camper vans) but instead by the specter of returning to them. 

Scott Lehman and Bay Roberts packing gear at the south trailhead, where we camped before shuttling. 

Hiking into a vast Navajo Sandstone landscape on the first day after leaving the north trailhead.

A modern Navajo petroglyph, reminiscent of older Navajo petroglyphs at Sand Island along the San Juan River NE of this hike.

Descending into a canyon on the first day.

Surprisingly, we saw very little archaeology on this hike, but I found this arrowhead (and left it where found) in some dunes near the trail.

In mid-March, it was early spring in the foothills of Navajo Mountain, with cottonwoods and Gambel oaks greening up and redbud trees starting to bloom. 

Our first view of Rainbow Bridge. At first it seemed like a geomorphic impossibility, but as we walked closer it revealed some of its secrets.

Rainbow Bridge from the northwest.

The Echo Camp near Rainbow Bridge was home to at least a dozen folding metal cots. If only they had left folding metal chairs. The camp was home to a pair of Western screech owls and lots of bats. We spent two nights at the Echo Camp and day-hiked to the Rainbow Bridge and Lake Powell.

One of the cots, none of which appeared compatible with the inflatable thermarest mattresses we carried.

Bay and Scott hiking through narrows on our fourth day.

My tent on the last morning of the hike. Rain turned to snow as we climbed to the south trailhead, but it was beautiful to see water flowing in the canyons.

Waterfalls and potholes.

Scott and Bay starting the long climb to the south trailhead.

The view from near the top of the climb on the last day. Our last camp was in the narrow part of the valley far below.

Logistics and Links

• The North and South Rainbow Bridge Trails can each be hiked as out-and-backs or connected as a point-to-point hike (~35 miles) like we did if you shuttle cars. 
• A permit from the Navajo Nation (easily obtained) is required, and hikers are asked to stay on route (the permit isn't a license to explore other parts of the Navajo Lands). 
• The south trailhead is approached from a dirt road off of Navajo route 161, which itself is a fork of Rt. 16. Detailed directions and information about the South Trail are found here. Once on the dirt road, stay LEFT at the sign announcing private residences and then turn right once past the sandstone dome. 4WD and high clearance are strongly recommended for the final 2 miles to the trailhead.
• The north trailhead is also approached from farther north on Rt. 16. The dirt road off of 16 is good to the top of a steep drop (camping on the left before the drop) but then deteriorates quickly. 4WD and clearance is again recommended for the final 3 miles to the trailhead. Detailed directions to the north trailhead and information about the North Trail are found here.
• The hike is about 35 miles. Traveling from north to south, there was water and camping at Surprise Valley, the Echo Camp (near Rainbow Bridge), and the First Water camp when we hiked in March, 2024. These water sources are well-spaced for camping on a 4-day/3-night hike. Check for current water availability if possible. General information about the hike is found here.
• There are many online accounts of people's hikes to Rainbow Bridge (e.g., Arizona Highways). 

Exploring Fable Valley

 

Fable Valley in fall color. Archaeological sites occupy both sides of the canyon, the sagebrush flats, and even the tops of sandstone towers like the one in the distant background.

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Fable Valley cuts into the Dark Canyon Plateau joining Gypsum Canyon before emptying into the Colorado River deep in Cataract Canyon. In 1869, during his descent of the Green and Colorado, the one-armed John Wesley Powell hiked into Gypsum from the river, nearly getting caught in a flash flood and turning back before reaching the mouth of Fable Valley. 

 

Our trip last October was less dramatic than Powell’s, but it required driving 40 miles on occasionally narrow and exposed dirt roads to reach the trailhead. I was grateful for both arms as I gripped the steering wheel of our van, hoping not to encounter oncoming traffic (we didn’t). We spent four days in the valley and two full days searching for archaeology, wandering up- and down-canyon from camp, scrambling up boulder-studded slopes to ruins or rock art sites and never traveling more than a couple of miles as the crow flies because there was so much to see.

 

Had Powell made it into Fable over 150 years ago, he would have found mostly undisturbed remnants of a substantial Ancestral Puebloan community spread from one end of the canyon to the other, with Mesa Verde style cliff dwellings and granaries in high alcoves and multi-room settlements in the sagebrush below. In the interval between 1869 and 2023, most of the ruins were scavenged, though pot sherds and lithics remain. Gordon Baldwin superficially surveyed the valley in 1949, describing 24 sites but noting even then that “…from the number of ruins that show signs of digging, it is evident that pot hunters, including a number of unauthorized expeditions, have been active in certain sections for some time.”

 

Even during Baldwin’s trip, a few remnants of settlements stood where today there is only sagebrush. We searched actively for a “ground ruin” below the largest cliff dwelling a mile or so upcanyon from our camp and found only pot sherds and a few low walls. Baldwin observed that the same site “seemingly contained more than 200 rooms and probably stood more than two stories in height,” while also describing a seven-foot-high corner wall that “may represent all that remains of the rectangular towers noted by [Dr. Byron] Cummings.” Cummings visited the valley in 1909, only 40 years before Baldwin when the ruins were less disturbed. When we visited, even the corner wall was gone. Despite that, finding what remains was exciting and fun.

 

Baldwin published his findings in the Southwestern Journal of Anthropology but admitted that “Due to the hurried nature of the trip and other phases of the recreational aspects of the region that had also to be investigated [emphasis mine] comparatively little time could actually be devoted to archaeological exploration.” Despite those weasel words, his paper contributed to our then sparse knowledge of the region. 

 

Like Baldwin, we were a little hurried, spending only four days car-to-car since some of our group of six had to return to work and others had plans to “investigate other phases of the recreational aspects of the region,” as Baldwin so eloquently put it. 

A structure in an alcove down-canyon from our camp, accessed by scrambling from above and traversing across a ledge.

The group at the structure in the previous picture. Left to right: Ellen, Bay, Jane, Steve, and Larry.

A handprint panel with stylized hands painted with concentric lines.

We saw many pot sherds but no snakes, probably because the fall nights were getting cold.

Bay (left) and Ellen scouting for sites.

A circular wall on top of the tower visible in the photo at the top of this post. Accessing it required an easy 4th-class scramble up a ledgy weakness. 

Bay and Jane descending from the tower.

Pictographs near our camp. All of the figures are connected.

Fable Valley itself is appealing even without the lure of archaeology. In October, cottonwood trees were approaching peak color.

On our second full day we explored up-valley from our camp, hiking towards the sun through backlit  grasses and shrubs.

Indian rice grass and other grasses and shrubs in the morning sun.

Pictographs and handprints.

A granary looks out over Fable Valley from an alcove in a side canyon.

Larry entering the most prominent ruin we visited, high above the valley floor. This ruin has been preserved to some extent. Replaced roof logs were cut with saws rather than fire, and portions of walls were rebuilt. 

Ellen, Larry, and Bay approaching a ruin. Steve had hiked out earlier that day to return to work. 

Jane and Larry clawing their way out of a gully in the valley on the hike out. The deeply incised creek and its side drainages were hard to cross. I suspect that when the valley was occupied, they were shallower.

Back at the trailhead and ready to "investigate other phases of recreational aspects of the region." 

L to R: Bay, Larry, Jane, Ellen.

References

Adkison, Ron. 1998. Hiking Grand Staircase-Escalante & the Glen Canyon Region. A Falcon Guide.

Baldwin, Gordon C. 1949. Archaeological survey in Southeastern Utah. Southwestern Journal of Anthropology 5(4):393-404.

Cummings, Byron. 1910. The ancient inhabitants of the San Juan Valley. Bulletin, University of Utah 3(3) Part 2.

Midwest Archaeological Center National Park Service, Lincoln, Nebraska. 1978. Archaeological resources of Canyonlands, Capitol Reef, and Arches National Parks and Natural Bridges National Monument, Southeastern Utah. Vol. 1. 

Road Trip Ryan (website)

Desert Packrafting: Escalante, San Juan, and San Rafael Rivers

Our boats beached to walk to a rock art panel on the San Juan River.

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For much of my life, desert rivers have been obstacles or sources of silty water, difficult to cross and hard to filter. The small ones, frigid in the spring, could be waded. Big ones were hiked along, often arduously, or approached, camped beside, and left behind to return the way you came. They are also beautiful green corridors through arid landscapes, lined with cottonwoods and punctuated by rock art galleries and ruins. Sitting on a canyon rim in the hot sun, cliffed-out high above an impossibly green river bottom, you ache to be down in the cool shade.  

Packrafts transform rivers from barriers into people-movers. This spring while drifting along on the San Juan several days into a week-long float, I realized how relaxed I felt, deep in the canyon and far from cell coverage, watching one sandstone formation dip into the river to reveal the younger one above it as we traveled downstream. It was like a days-long sigh of relief.

 

Kevin Fedarko in his book, The Emerald Mile, about boating in the Grand Canyon, wrote:

“To float, to drift, savoring the pulse of the river on its odyssey through the canyon, and above all, to postpone the unwelcome and distinctly unpleasant moment when one is forced to reemerge and reenter the world beyond the rim—that is the paramount goal.”

Our Alpacka Explorers, weighing about 7 pounds, plus the paddles, PFDs (life vests), and dry bags, all added to standard backpacking gear, make for heavy packs. We haven’t been ambitious about carrying our rafts very far, instead opting for short approaches. If one is willing to carry the gear, even more terrain opens. Either way, once on the water, you spend your days watching the scenery scroll by. If it’s hot, you swim. If it’s cold, you try not to. Camps are often idyllic with sandy beaches, shade, and side-canyons to explore.

I’ve written before about our first two packraft trips (Oregon’s John Day River and Boquillas Canyon on the Rio Grande) but during the last two spring boating seasons (2022 and 2023), we’ve added the Escalante, San Juan, and San Rafael to our resumes. All of these are exceptional trips in different ways, and there is no shortage of YouTube videos and trip reports, so I won’t add to that pantheon, but I’ll share a few photos and some basic logistics.

Left to Right: Larry Scritchfield, Brian Collins, Ellen, and me, savoring the wind and our heavy packs at the Egypt Trailhead as we set out to Fence Canyon where we put onto the Escalante in April, 2022.

Rigging boats for the Escalante at the Fence Canyon put-in.

Branches and clear water in Neon Canyon during a side hike from the Escalante.

Ellen and Brian on the Escalante, more a creek than a river below Fence Canyon at 6-10 cfs.

Larry during one of many low water boat drags on the Escalante.

Ellen enjoying water stained Escalante cliffs.

Ellen in one of the many small rapids on the Escalante. The river at low water was very busy--nothing especially hard, but requiring constant route finding to avoid hanging up on rocks.

The spectacular Kachina Panel on the San Juan River, less than a day's float from the Sand Island put-in. We ran the San Juan in early April 2023.

Larry Scritchfield and Jane Addis eating lunch at the Kachina Panel.

Spring was late coming to the desert this year, and our first days on the San Juan were cold. This tree knew better than to leaf out.

An arrowhead, left where I found it. The San Juan between Sand Island and Mexican Hat is rich with archaeology. 

Ellen and Bay Roberts at the River House ruin on the San Juan.

An otter accompanied us downriver for a quite a while before climbing onto the shore and running back upstream. We wondered if it was just curious or chaperoning us away from its family.

Ellen in Government Rapid, one of a couple of Class 3 drops on the river. 

The view upstream from our last camp at the mouth of Oljeto Wash. Below Slickhorn Canyon, the river is placid. It was once subsumed by Lake Powell, but has reemerged from the shrinking reservoir.

The San Rafael River in May 2023 at about 150 cfs when we ran it. It later came up to 1,000 before dropping. 

Claret Cup Cactus in the San Rafael Swell.

Ellen and Bay Roberts on the San Rafael.

Ellen and Bay eating lunch in Virgin Springs Canyon on the San Rafael.

Logistics

 

Escalante

 

Permits: Required backcountry permit is easily obtained from the Ranger Station in Escalante on your arrival (no lottery, etc.).

Recommended water level: We ran this section when the river was peaking at 6 cfs and it was often lower than that, which was marginal but obviously doable. The recommended water level is at least 50 cfs, but people run it at 2 cfs. The low water made the trip a little more arduous but it was still great.

Shuttle: Our shuttle was from the Egypt Trailhead to the 40-mile Ridge Trailhead. Both are accessed from the Hole in the Rock Road outside of Escalante, which is usually ok for passenger cars (but it can get rough or muddy depending on weather). The spur roads into Egypt and 40-mile Ridge require some clearance and there's sand on the 40-mile Ridge road. We were fine with a Subaru and an AWD van. The shuttle is tedious and takes a couple of hours if I remember correctly.

River info: If there’s enough water, you can put in at the Highway 12 bridge near Escalante, but at lower water Fence Canyon is the recommended put in. We started at Fence and took out at Coyote Gulch where we hiked out via the crack in the wall (strenuous hike up a dune but technically easy). Some people float all the way to Lake Powell and get picked up there. The main challenge for us was the low water. We did a lot of butt-scooting and some dragging of boats. Rapids were easy at low water but hard to get through without hanging up. There are two mandatory portages.

Online info: American Packrafting Association, Bearfoot Theory blog, National Park Service.

 

San Juan

 

Permits: Required. You can enter the lottery for trip dates between April 15 and July 15 at recreation.gov. For earlier trips, you don’t have to enter the lottery, but you must apply for a permit starting December 1. That’s what we did, and we got a permit, but it was cold for the first few days in April. Later dates are likely to have more water and warmer temperatures.

Recommended water level: >500 cfs. When we were on the river, it was running about 1,000 cfs which was a nice level. 

Shuttle: We paid for the shuttle using Wild Expeditions in Bluff. They drove our van to Clay Hills and left it there for us. Cost was about $250.

River info: The San Juan is usually boated either from Sand Island to Mexican Hat or from Sand Island all the way to Clay Hills. We took out at Clay Hills. The best archaeology is before Mexican Hat, so plan to spend more time on that section if you can. Also, the left bank of the river is on Navajo lands, and if you want to hike there, you need a special permit (recommended). Chinle Wash is particularly interesting. Call the Navajo Parks and Recreation Department in Window Rock at 928-871-6647.

Online Info: BLM, Dan Ransom video, Guidebook.

 

San Rafael

 

Permits: None required.

Recommended water level: >100 cfs (we ran it at 150 and it was great). They say over 1,000 is not recommended, but I don’t know why not.

Shuttle: Put in is at Fuller Bottom and take out is just upstream from the bridge at the Swinging Bridge Campground. Shuttle by car takes a half-hour or so. Some people do a bicycle shuttle.

River info: Mellow, fun river with no significant rapids (just riffles). Nice side canyon hikes with ruins and rock art. Most do this as a one-day trip, but it can be floated as an overnight. There are lots of nice campsites at side canyons. 

Online info: Bearfoot Theory blog, Road Trip Ryan, Zachary Kenney blog.