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)

Backpacking in Grand Gulch: Collins Spring to Kane Gulch

 

Scott Lehman at one of my favorite petroglyph panels.

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When I first visited Cedar Mesa in the 1980s, Grand Gulch was obscure, with word-of-mouth descriptions of arduous bushwacking and secret ruins. Since then, guidebooks have been published, books written, and the Bears Ears National Monument created, diminished, and finally restored, hopefully forever. A growing number of people hike regularly in the Gulch and its tributaries, and it seems that everyone has a secret undisclosed discovery, enticing the rest of us to keep looking. Despite growing popularity, it remains one of my favorite places; no one will ever peer into every hidden alcove or look behind every exfoliated boulder to find the last undiscovered treasure, and even without its cultural heritage, Grand Gulch is stunning. 

 

In March of 2021, I spent a week with Ellen and our friends, Scott and Bay, hiking from Collins Spring to Kane Gulch, about 38 miles. We’d all walked much of this section and many of its side canyons before but in pieces on many trips over many years, so it was fun to traverse it in one hike. 

 

While the walking was easy (we planned short days to leave time for ruins and rock art), the drought presented challenges. Water in much of the canyon had disappeared, and hikers, us included, planned our days and camps around what little water could be found, some barely drinkable even with filtering. I recently wrote about climate migrations in the Southwest, partly stimulated by this experience of traversing the canyon in a dry year. Until about 700 years ago, it supported a thriving Ancestral Puebloan community. The gist of that post was that drought destabilized their society, leading to abandonment. 

 

While on this hike, I realized that drought need not be long-term to drive people out. After a few years without good monsoon rains or winter snow, most of the water was gone. How long could permanent residents of Cedar Mesa live and farm without regular rain? A few years? A decade? How much water could they store from ephemeral summer showers or winter snow? Are there enough obscure springs to sustain a substantial population through several dry years? I don’t know the answers to these questions, but when we were in the canyon in March, there was barely water to support a few dozen backpackers on their vacations, passing through the canyon for only a few days. 

These are a few pictures from our trip. Except for some of the well-known sites, I don't specify locations.

Ellen and Bay (not Bei, our daughter!) enjoying pictographs in a Rincon north of the junction of Grand Gulch and Collins Spring.

The Bannister Ruin. We camped near here on the first night. Bannister spring was dry (we carried water from the trailhead) but I scrambled to a pothole above the canyon floor that was filled with good water.

An arrowhead found in the wash and returned to it after being admired. I recommend Craig Child's book, "Finders, Keepers" for those of you interested in respecting archeological finds.

Handprints.

Routefinding is not too tough when you are following a major canyon, but keeping track of side canyons requires some attention.

A small man (me), and woman (Ellen) sit below the Big Man Panel north of Polly's Canyon. 

More handprints. Bay recreates the moment.

An intact granary tucked beneath a reticulated roof.

The bird panel. I carried my lightweight backpacking camera without a very long lens, and these were high above the canyon floor, but you can zoom in to see better. The pictographs are exquisitely detailed. 

Ellen and Bay scrambling to see a ruin and rock art in a side canyon.

Bay (left) and Ellen enjoying rock art.

The breech birth panel. 

Our camp on a ledge above Coyote Canyon. The spring in the canyon bottom produced good water.

A potsherd inside a ruin.

A wall tucked behind a fallen boulder, with pictographs lined up under the arch behind it.

Bay admiring a petroglyph panel at the mouth of Todie Canyon.

After the hike. Left to right: Bay Roberts, Scott Lehman, Ellen Axtmann, and me.

Water info: Grand Gulch was very dry after a multi-year drought and the failure of the monsoon the previous summer. We found water in a pothole (ephemeral) at our first camp near the Banister ruin on a slickrock shelf that required scrambling to access. There was water in lower Collins Canyon and for short way up Grand Gulch from the confluence, and again in pools in the main Gulch just downcanyon from Polly's. Water was available a short way up Green Canyon and farther along in Green Mask Canyon below the well-known rock art site. The Coyote Canyon spring was running. Farther up, we filtered nasty water from a pool under a pouroff down canyon from the mouth of Todie Canyon. We were told that there was water up Todie in the North Fork, but we used our filtered water instead. From there, we walked out to Kane Gulch. 

Don't rely on the BLM office in Monticello, though they may have some information. If the Kane Gulch Ranger Station is open, it’s a more reliable source of information. Of course, there can be much more or much less (!) water depending on the year. 

Another much more detailed blog post on this hike going in the other direction is at this link and there are many other detailed accounts online if you search for them.