Water Crossing
Campsite 11, April 17 - Zion NP, Utah
“So what are we doing today?
“I thought we could hike up Spring Creek Canyon. It’s just across the highway from camp. It’s supposed to be an easy hike up a slot canyon.
“Sounds good.”
“Let’s pack lunch.”
We packed our lunch, changed into hiking boots, and filled our water bottles before setting off in the Jeep. It was a gorgeous day. There were few clouds, little wind, and a predicted high of 70F.
“Look we’re the only car here.” I noted as we pulled into a small, unmarked parking area.
“Excellent!”
“I’m not taking my camera today, so I’ll carry the hiking pack.”
“Ok, I’m going to visit the restroom while you sign into the trail log?”
“K.”
We were soon headed down the trail, which started near the beginning of the canyon. Traveling through sagebrush and pinion pine and a leafless deciduous tree of unknown species, we soon encountered a small creek. Our first water crossing of the day.
Soon there was a second crossing,
and a third,
. . .
and eventually an eighth.
“I don’t think we’re on the trail anymore.”
We stopped to looked around. There was no obvious path. A small trail ducked under some limbs and went into the trees.
“Do you think that’s the trail?”
“I’ll check.”
He pushed the limbs back and walked into the trees.
I waited.
“Come on up. This is it.”
I ducked under the limbs and started up an embankment that had been hidden by the trees. When I emerged, I was standing on a wide, heavily worn trail.
“How did we miss this?”
“There must have been a turn in the trail at a water crossing.”
Not that it mattered. We could see the canyon ahead of us. We really only needed to head in that direction. The vegetation had changed to oak and rabbit bush. We continued down the trail that had now turned to sand. There were many footprints but occasionally we would notice bird, lizard, and snake tracks. Someone had also brought a dog. We knew dogs were not supposed to be here.
Ahead of me I heard, “There’s the canyon entrance!”
Canyon Entrance
I stopped and looked up. You could tell that water had worn away the rock by the smooth surface and odd shapes of the stone. We still weren’t climbing. I hoped the trail review was correct and this would be a flat hike.
As we rounded a bend in the trail, I could see that while we weren’t necessarily climbing, the trail was subject to erosion that added some up and down.
“I hear a waterfall!”
“It sounds nearby!”
“It sounds bigger than it is.”
“Canyon walls probably reflect the sound.”
The water was falling over debris caught on alder trees. Soon after we passed the waterfall, the trail turned to cross the creek, except there was no dry land on the other side. We gave each other a quick knowing look and continued up the creek. After 50 yards we were back on a dry trail. The trail alternated between left of creek, right of creek, and in creek as we entered the slot part of the canyon.
The Trail
We stopped mid-stream to examine the walls and take photos.
“This is a really cool trail!”
“Yeah, and that tree looks like it is ready for a town square at Christmas.”
I turned to look. Then on we hiked.
Not Hemlock
“What are these trees? They look like hemlock but with huge needles.”
“Is there a western hemlock?”
“Maybe. Something to look up back at camp.”
We paused again to look at the canyon walls after we noticed a side slot. The evidence of high water was everywhere. Tree roots were exposed, and broken limbs occasionally clogged the path forward. Older trees bared scars on their trunks from boulders that had tumbled downstream in the spring runoff. The most noticeable evidence was the canyon itself.
“I wonder how many decades it takes water to erode an inch of sandstone?”
“Probably a lot.”
We entered the side canyon and found a great photo opportunity with three large boulders. A “gate keeper” for the remainder of the slot.
The Gatekeepers
Hiking on, ahead of me I heard, “SNOW!”
I rounded a bend and laughed.
Snow
“Yeah, that’s snow.”
That bit of snow was an indication that sun didn’t penetrate the narrow slot. When there was too much snow on the trail, we would have to turn back. Until then we would enjoy the twisted shapes carved into the canyon walls.
Canyon Wall
The canyon kept getting narrower but the volume of water appeared to remain the same.
Again, we noticed the sound of falling water. This time much louder.
When we found the “falls” it was barely a foot high. Another acoustic mirage.
Now we were hiking on snow most of the time.
Then I heard, “Oops! Post hole!”
He had fallen through the snow. Luckily there was only air beneath the snow and not water.
Hiking on Snow
Soon I was repeating his exclamation. But before turning around, I needed one last photo.
Skylight
We heard voices behind us. Other people were now following us up the trail but there was no more trail. We said hello to the other hikers, then turned to hike back to the car. Leaving the next group to enjoy the canyon in solitude.
***