Arlin and I were able to visit with our friends Annie and Kelso for a two day weekend whirlwind adventure. While I didn’t spend nearly enough time on my primary camera (and thus am not super happy with the photos I got), I figured I would share some of those images here. Sometimes you have to be more present in the moment, and try for better photos on a future visit.

The following gallery is combination of photos taken with my phone and my Sony a7r II.

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One of the most important features of the Bears Ears is Grand Gulch, an expansive canyon system stretching about 50 miles from Kane Gulch Ranger Station in the north down to its confluence with the San Juan river in the south. We decided to do a short loop taking Sheik’s Canyon down into the Gulch and traveling out via Bullet Canyon the next day —  about 14 miles altogether. 

After stopping for snacks at the Hollow Mountain Travel Center in the quaint town of Hanksville, we drove another two hours or so through pitch black to our first destination: Natural Bridges National Monument. Unfortunately the campground was full, so we had to press on in search of a camp site on BLM land. After a few false turns and a general feeling of ‘spookiness’, we finally settled on a spot alongside a dirt road winding up some sort of large hill. It’s always kind of fun arriving in the middle of the night since you never know exactly what you’re going to get in the morning. Boy were we pleased! We both woke up naturally around 7 AM to a stunning sunrise and a beautiful overlook just outside our tent’s door. It was really special to be able to watch the day begin through the crack in our rain fly. We didn’t get any pictures, but I’ll always have the memory.

Overnight trips into Grand Gulch require you to get a permit from the ranger station, so we couldn’t drive straight to our final destination (hence the camping on unknown BLM land). Permit reservations for the weekend were already gone when I tried to call, so we showed up to the Kane Gulch Ranger Station at 8 AM sharp hoping for one of the six walk-in permits they set aside for every day. Before you can get your permit, the rangers require you to watch this cool introduction video to teach visitors about the Gulch and the precious resources hidden within the canyons’ walls. Sure, the music and narration were your typical “AMERICA THE BEAUTIFUL” fare, but it was enough to get Arlin and I excited for the adventure ahead.

Permits in hand, we were finally able to arrive at our final destination: Bullet Canyon trailhead. The various trails leading into Grand Gulch can all be completed in a series of day hikes — visitors can hike in to see a ruin or two, and then hike back out the way they came. Since we were backpacking, we decided on a loop. Starting at the Bullet Canyon trailhead, the first section of our hike was this two mile stretch through juniper trees and sage brush to get to Sheik’s Canyon trailhead. This was by far the least exciting part of the hike, but it was cool to have the BENM namesake ‘Bears Ears’ formations guiding our way.

Little stream beds started to merge and grow deeper as it became apparent that we were approaching the beginning of the canyon. One of the really fascinating things about this part of the hike was how absolutely flat everything looked. You would never suspect that there are massive canyons nearby while walking through this terrain. Sure enough, however, the ground around us started to rise as it turned into ledges and then tall canyon walls. We had reached Sheik’s Canyon.

Grand Gulch is particularly known for the high concentration of Anasazi ruins and pictographs in nearly every canyon. Most ruins are difficult to spot; their high placement in the cliff walls and sandstone construction making them nearly invisible at first glance. We noticed our first couple of ruins during our decent into Sheik’s. They were simple granaries, constructed at the tops of the cliffs to protect them from the elements and flash flooding. I somehow spotted all of the ruins on this little expedition — Arlin was none too pleased, but I think it’s safe to say that my Indiana Jones hat played a role in my archeological prowess.

Large panel of pictographs near the Green Mask

The real excitement started after a fairly sketchy decent into the deepest part of Sheiks. Walking along a high ledge, we were spotted by someone searching for the ‘Green Mask’ pictograph. After explaining that we hadn’t seen anything yet and navigating our way down a bunch of slick rock to the spring, we had a short chat with him and his wife. They had been looking for the Green Mask for a while with no success and were about to give up. About two minutes after we parted ways, however, Arlin and I found the mask hidden amongst a massive panel of pictographs that the couple had been looking at for quite some time. We made our first discovery!

After exploring the pictographs and low-walled ruins for a while, we decided to press on. It wasn’t too long before we reached the confluence where Sheik’s meets with the much larger Grand Gulch. The towering canyon walls made us feel small yet safe — as desert canyons often do (at least when there are no rain clouds in sight.) We had entered the next stage of our adventure.

We camped down the canyon where Grand Gulch meets with Bullet Canyon — our exit route for the next day. The confluence was filled with trees covering large flat areas that were perfect for camping. There was one type of tree directly above our tent that dropped these green seed pods which, when stepped on, released some sort of super glue that was a PAIN to get off. Otherwise, the spot was beautiful, completely empty, and we couldn’t have asked for a better site.

We dozed off relatively early — around 8 or so. I was going to try to take some night shots before the moon rose, but I slept straight through that plan. I did wake up around 1 AM to take some shots, but the moon was so bright at that point you could hardly see the stars. I did end up finding a lens cap I had apparently dropped during the day though, so that worked out.

The next day, Sunday, brought the final leg of our journey. Our exit route was a winding trail through the stunning Bullet Canyon. The first ruin we came across was called ‘Jailhouse Ruin’, named after the strange cross-hatch built into one of the main windows. Two large face-like pictographs marked the ruin’s location high up the canyon wall. I’m honestly baffled at how the ancient people who built these dwellings actually got up to them.

A little further up the canyon was the Perfect Kiva ruin. This was by far the most interesting and expansive ruin we encountered on our journey. Grooves worn into the rock from grinding ancient corn (maize) laid next to short walls surrounding some sort of dwelling.

A near-perfect living structure stood before the centerpiece of the ruins — a partially restored kiva. A kiva is an underground chamber used by the Pueblo Indians for religious rites and ceremony. Since this kiva has been restored, we were allowed to descend into it.

The air inside was cool and had an extremely pleasant smell of herbs and dust. Corn cobs from the people who had lived here hundreds of years prior littered the floor. It was peaceful, and you could feel how special the space is just by being in it.

Seeing all of these ruins and ancient artifacts serves as additional evidence that this region absolutely must be protected. The land in Grand Gulch and the surrounding Bears Ears region was and still is sacred to the Native Americans of the area. You can truly feel that sacred energy as you wander the canyon floor and explore ancient sites ringing with the echoes of people long since passed.

The desert is unique and incredibly special in the way that it so plainly displays the vastness of time to observers. Every layer of rock represents hundreds, if not thousands of years. The monumental forms demand reverence, almost like a temple to Mother Earth. There are few places in the world that so powerfully represent both the extreme beauty and harshness of our planet in a single location. Why shouldn’t this land be protected against development and human interests? To me, this trip reminded me that we must do everything we can to ensure the longevity of these vast expanses of natural beauty.

The rest of our hike was a pleasant trek out of the canyon and up to the rim where our car was parked. While we were both extremely relieved to have air conditioning chilling our sun-kissed faces again, we were also sad to be leaving such a wonderful place and experience behind. I can’t wait for our next opportunity to go backpacking this year!

Standing at 11,929 feet above sea level, Mount Nebo in Utah is actually the tallest peak in the entire Wasatch Range. Locals will likely tell you that Mount Timpanogas is the highest, but this is a common misconception. I’ve had my eyes set on Mount Nebo for at least two years,  but every plan to summit ended up falling through for a variety of reasons. When I realized that I had the chance to take a solo trip, I jumped on the opportunity.

Mt. Nebo can be summited in a day. The trail is short enough that many hikers choose to start in the morning and make it back by mid to late afternoon. However, I wanted to try my hand at taking some timelapse video of the stars and I wanted to try and reach the top in time to watch the sun rise, so I decided to do an overnight trip. Leaving right after work on Friday evening, I arrived at the trailhead just as the sun was setting.

I’m not going to lie, hiking alone in the dark is actually a terrifying experience. I wasn’t anticipating feeling fearful at all, but after a couple of hikers nearly gave me a heart attack I couldn’t help but feel like many eyes were watching me in the dark. This is cougar country! For all I knew I was being stalked by a massive predator! Looking back, I really shouldn’t have been so freaked out; I highly doubt there is anything looking to hurt people at that elevation.

Roughly two miles in, I reached my destination — the ghostly remnants of a once magnificent tree, holding on to the edge of a cliff with charred roots, its branches drooping towards the darkness over 400 feet below. Basically, really neat.

I was a bit dismayed to discover that there was not really any flat ground for my tent. I ended up pitching it in the flattest area I could find, which happened to be about 10 inches from the edge of the cliff on what was still a considerable incline. I desperately wanted this shot of the stars, and I was willing to sacrifice a lot of comfort to get it.

It was getting late, so I quickly set up my camera, tripod, and lights and hit the hay. Here’s the final result:

Pretty neat, right!?

After a rough night on a rocky hill, I woke up a little later than I meant to. I knew I wasn’t going to reach the summit by sunrise as I had originally hoped, but I still grabbed my day pack and headed off as early as possible – around 5:30 AM. Honestly, I’m glad I started when I did; it was great to watch the sun come over the mountains in the east, slowly illuminating the peaks ahead and casting dramatic shadows to the west.

The final stretch on this hike is rough. Really rough. Immediately upon passing through Wolf Pass, the trail begins climbing steep enough to turn the hike into more of a scramble. There was still some snow up there, which was a bit treacherous to cross. I thought it really added to the adventure. I was sure to take plenty of ill-framed selfies on the way. See:

Unfortunately, Mt. Nebo has a false summit — you get a lot of false hope as you approach what you are sure is the top. However, you eventually realize that the trail goes down, crosses a knife-edge ridge, and then once again proceeds to climb to the true summit. It was at this point that I started singing Queen’s “Don’t Stop Me Now”, for reasons completely unbeknownst to me.

The view from the crown of Mt. Nebo is absolutely stunning. Towering over the small rural town of Mona, one can easily see miles upon miles in every direction from the summit. I had the good fortune of summiting on a relatively clear day pretty early in the morning and as a result the visibility seemed almost endless, limited only by the curve of the earth.

I spent an hour and a half at the summit. As I sat and ate my string cheese, looking over Utah County to the north and Juab County to the south, cars began to stream more steadily along I-15. Being able to see everything from Mt. Timpanogas and the massive Utah Lake bordering Provo all the way down to Nephi and beyond was absolutely incredible. Pictures and even ‘photospheres’ do not, and cannot, do the view any sort of justice.

Much to my delight, the summit of Mt. Nebo is somehow serviced by 4G LTE. I used this opportunity to brag to the world about where I was at 8 AM on a Saturday morning. And yes, I called my mom. Solitude may be bliss, but I wanted to share my experience with everyone and it was awesome to be able to do so from what felt like the top of the world. I’m also a bit of an attention whore.

¯  \_(ツ)_/¯

Going down was less strenuous than the trip up (obviously), but the sun was heating things up crazy fast. The first signs of other people came on the descent, and I’ve got to say that I am so glad I didn’t try to summit this beast in the blistering heat. Finally getting back to the car around noon was an incredible relief.

Overall, I am ecstatic that I finally bagged Mt. Nebo. It’s a formidable peak, and its stature as the tallest in the Wasatch range made it an impressive hike. I was consistently amazed at the stunning vistas the trail provided, and time and again the mountain reminded me of how beautiful Utah really is.

The Bonne Terre lead mine was the first in the St. Joe Minerals lead mine network, and was a key supplier of lead during the Civil War. The town and the vast mine underneath it was a target of Price’s Raid in 1864. Ultimately the mine was active for over 100 years, getting shut down in the 1960’s after a century of digging deeper into the Earth.

When the mine was abandoned the pumps that kept it dry were turned off, resulting in massive flooding that filled the entire tunnel network. Today, the pumps are used occasionally to maintain the water level where it is – leaving much of the first floor dry and creating a shoreline of sorts. Tours are offered via foot and boat, giving visitors an opportunity to explore the

July 11, 2014

The forecast was a chance of rain, but the skies were clear (enough) and we were determined so we set out bright and early in the morning.  About an hour and a half in, we stopped at Bald Mountain Pass to take in the view and stretch our legs.

Finally arriving at the Christmas Meadows trail head, we rearranged our bags, took a selfie, and we were off!

Not too long into the hike, the thunder started. As the storm was rolling in we frantically grabbed for our ponchos; we weren’t going to let a little rain deter us.

As we worked on putting our packs back on we saw a moose cross the trail in front of us. It was moving too fast to get a picture, and it disappeared completely upon entering the trees. It was a very peaceful moment.

Up until this point, the trail was fairly easy. There were only a few mud holes to climb around and for the most part there was very little elevation gain. This only lasted about two miles though, because once we hit Ostler Fork things got rough.

The hike to Amethyst Basin is about 6.5 miles long. During that 6 and a half miles there is a 2000 foot elevation gain – much of which is condensed into a single grueling mile just after the fork. Pair that with a raging thunder storm and it makes for one hell of a hike.

The Hill from Hell, Christmas Meadows Trailhead

The nice thing about this part of the hike is the fact that it runs along Ostler Fork, a river cascading down the side of the mountain in truly magnificent fashion.

Finally nearing the top, the rain slowed to a stop and the mountains started peeking through the clouds. It was a magnificent view.

Surprisingly enough, the going didn’t get much easier once the path leveled out. The raging storm caused some streams to overflow, sometimes making the trail into something more akin to a riverbed than a real path. In other places, the forest floor turned into wetland with water several inches deep and mud you could really sink your feet into. We both ended up with muddy shoes and even muddier socks before it was over.

At this point we were more than ready to set up camp in any meadow we could find and just relax until bed time. Passing through several promising meadows, we trudged on to reach the basin.

I can’t express how glad I am that we held out just a little longer. Nearing the top of our last big hill, we looked up to see a mountain with sheer cliff sides appeared directly overhead.

The view from our tent.  |  Amethyst Basin, Lower Shelf

And that was it! We had reached the basin, and the meadow was so picturesque it was almost absurd. Naturally we had to set up camp. We had a great freeze-dried dinner, and sat in our own private meadow as day turned to night.

The moon was out above the meadow, brightly lighting entire scene. Clouds from the storm earlier poured over the mountain and formed as a low-lying mist over the grass and river, revealing the stars high above. It was truly a sight to behold, and quite possibly one of the most beautiful things I’ve experienced in the entire state of Utah. It’s really a shame I didn’t pack my DSLR to capture that perfect night.

Around 2 AM we peeled off our many layers of soggy clothes, changed into dry socks and climbed into our mummy bags to await a (hopefully) dryer morning.

July 12, 2014

Morning came, and overall the day was pretty uneventful. Some light mist hung near the ground and in the trees when we woke up, giving the whole area a surreal wonderland. As we were filtering some water from the nearly 6 foot deep creek, another group of campers emerged from the forest headed home. It was amazing to think that there were others up there, especially considering the extreme solitude we thought we had experienced the night before.

We made it! | Christmas Meadows Trailhead