Just West of Grand Junction, Colorado begins a wide expanse of canyon country that stretches throughout western Colorado, southern Utah and northern Arizona. Encompassed within this broad area is some of the America’s most spectacular scenery including Bryce Canyon, Capital Reef, Glen Canyon, Grand Staircase-Escalante, Zion, and the Grand Canyon. This is also the stumping grounds of Edward Abbey’s infamously controversial Monkey Wrench Gang; ‘Seldom Seen’ Slim, Dr. Sarvis, Bonnie Abbzug, and George Hayduke; strident defenders of Mother Earth. Roughly tracing the path of the mighty Colorado River, the canyons twist and turn, narrow and deepen to the forceful whim of the river. Contained within these rock mazes are scraggly sagebrush, numerous varieties of cactus, creekside cottonwood trees; along with mule deer, big horn sheep, scorpions, and rattlesnakes. On the canyon floor ones’ world becomes limited to the colorful walls of the canyon. To travel within these deep cracks in the Earth’s crust is to step back in geologic time. The canyons amaze one with their silence, colors, and beautiful harshness.
Unfortunately, most tourists simply give canyon country a fleeting glance from interstate highways, speeding by at seventy miles per hour. A few may visit overlooks crowded with other noisy tourists. A quick photograph and they are back in their metal cages. They are unaware of the harsh beauty this landscape contains. This is not the experience that I sought. Thus for this year’s Spring Break I decided to avoid Moab, which in recent years has become a hub of canyon country, and a great place I’ve visited many times before. My friend Jeff and I decided to explore Black Ridge Canyon, a more remote and less-traveled area just South of Fruita, Colorado. It sounded beautiful and remote, just what I wanted. It was a place to escape the face-paced stressful life of civilization; where one is able to contemplate the simpler things in life.
We left Fort Collins on Monday afternoon amid a whirl of last minute preparations. It had been snowing since the night before and we desperately sought some warmer weather. Crossing over the Rocky Mountains, deep snow still held the high country in its winter grasp. We spent the night at the house of one of Jeff’s friends in Grand Junction and the next morning headed for the BLM (Bureau of Land Management) office to get information on Black Ridge Canyon. For the next hour we collected maps, talked with the staff, and asked natural resource questions. These people are trying to manage the land in the right manner, irregardless of the Bush administration and lack of funding due to Iraq. How long must Americans and the World endure these disastrous debacles? Yet, I digress. Loaded with maps and information we ate breakfast at McDonalds and attempted to establish a plan of action. It was mid-morning and we simply decided to start with a hike of Devils Canyon.
We drove to the trailhead, grabbed our packs, and hit the trail. The sky was a cloudless blue, the temperature in the 60s, and the scenery kept improving. The trail began winding through a plain of sagebrush and then entered the wide expanse of the canyon. We passed colorful rocks, steep spires, and sheer cliff faces. No one else was in sight. The path forked and we followed it up a creek through a shallow canyon; its walls limiting our view of the world above. We passed an old mine shaft littered with a rabbit’s foot and the remnants of a campfire, complete with pots and pans. The sense of exploration was exhilarating and my cameras’ shutters snapped with great rapidity. Every colorful and unique rock formation, cacti, ancient snag, and vista brought a sense of awe. At the end of the loop trail was an historic cabin. Stepping inside I discovered a bunk bed, wood burning stove, and other basic amenities. It was a pleasant surprise and reading through the journals entries of past visitors was enjoyable. A few hours later we were back at the car, with the first hike under our belts.
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