![]() ![]() Leave the second car at the Wire Pass trailhead. You will turn left where you see the Paria Contact Station, then left again down a two-mile gravel road most cars can handle. Blue skies mean nothing rain 50 miles away can trigger a flood.Ĭar shuttle: Leave one car at the White House campground just off Highway 89 about 30 miles west of Page. Make sure there is no chance of rain anywhere in the region. ![]() It stinks and is often numbingly cold.įor conditions and more information, go to the BLM’s Kanab Visitor Center at blm.gov/visit/kanab-visitor-center.Ĭheck the weather Buckskin can become a death trap in a flash flood. But prepare for knee-, waist- and even neck-deep water at certain times. When to go: The best times are late fall and spring when there’s little chance of rain. Walking for miles through water, mud and muck in a chilly, dark canyon can be daunting. To do this as a day hike you must be mentally and physically prepared for constantly changing conditions. There are self-pay stations at Wire Pass and White House trailheads. The day-use fee is $6 per person for ages 12 and older and $6 per dog. We spent the day creeping through a forbidding gash deep inside the Earth and the night struggling up a lonesome river in the middle of the desert.īuckskin Gulch lies about midway between Kanab, Utah, and Page, Ariz., in the Paria Canyon-Vermilion Cliffs Wilderness Area. So is this one of the best hikes in America? Absolutely.īuckskin began as a hike, became a slog and turned into an adventure. We were tired, wet, filthy and exhilarated. We had hiked 21 miles and crossed the Paria River 123 times. We moved up a sandy bank and spotted a tent, then my car. Had we passed the exit? I climbed a hill for a better look. Nothing.Īs a full moon and stars filled the sky, we were three little lights bobbing back and forth across a burbling desert river seeking the refuge of a battered Prius. I scanned the canyon walls for silhouettes of the rocks. Before leaving home, I had taken a photo of a YouTube video showing two rock formations near the exit for White House campground. We used flashlights and headlamps to guide us. ![]() I started counting river crossings - 19, 45, 75. We crisscrossed the shallow river repeatedly, trying not to slip or get mired in the mud. I didn’t realize we’d be walking mostly in the Paria, not along its banks. But I figured we could cover the last seven miles in a few hours. I had hoped to finish before nightfall so we wouldn’t have to look for the trail exit in the dark. We turned left and headed upriver through Paria Canyon. I felt a surge of happiness as we emerged from the darkness.Ī camping area lay ahead. We were nearing the confluence of Buckskin Gulch and the Paria River, a silty, greenish tributary of the Colorado. A good omen? A ribbon of water flowed toward us. When would this canyon open up? Was that the wind or the roar of floodwaters? Could I scale this wall if I had to? What just darted past? The stunning views just kept coming, yet I felt a creeping sense of claustrophobia. Higher up, indentations and outcrops resembling human faces stared down at us. Wavy black rock polished smooth by water. Orange and black walls more than 400 feet high hemmed us in. We rounded corner after dark corner, like trespassers creeping through the dank keep of some medieval fortress. We slid our packs through the hole, then eased down the 10-foot-chute using another fixed rope to control our descent. The rope was there, but I brought my own just in case. A rope is sometimes in place to help you. If it’s clogged you can climb down a set of “stairs” cut into the rock. We peered down a chute into an opening called the “Rabbit Hole.” Luckily, it was clear of debris. We eventually reached a low spot in the canyon called the Middle Route, where you can scramble 100 feet up and out in case of a flood - assuming you’re close to this spot when it hits.Īn hour or so later we faced the infamous “boulder jam,” a collection of massive rocks that seemed to block the way forward. We moved on, leaving Peters to finish his rock bridge. Both shoes nearly came off as I climbed out. The third gave way and I sunk knee-deep into the syrupy muck. ![]()
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