The Big Bend 100 - a Tale of Searing Heat and Frigid Cold When: December 10th - 13th, 2020
Distance: 100 total miles, with an even split between the national and state parks. The route breaks down as such:
trail=49 mi
dirt road/4WD roads=29 mi
sandy arroyo=14 mi
off-trail route finding=5 mi
paved road=3 mi
Conditions: Highs in the mid 90s. Lows in the high 20s. Long exposed desert hiking, during a historically dry and hot year. That didn’t stop the desert from pounding me with rain on the first night. More on that later.
Lighterpack: https://lighterpack.com/capkvl *There’s a TLDR and a gear review section towards the bottom of the post, if you don’t want to read this long winded chronicle about a hike I did. Here’s my
instagram, if you wanna see small overviews of each day, with corresponding pictures.
Useful Pre-Trip Information: I wrote a
post over at
ULTexas, where I go into considerable detail on the logistics of this thru-hike.
Day 1 - 30.22 Miles “I love your jacket, where did you get it?”
“Oh, THANKS! It’s Lulu, of course!”
“I need to get the fuck out of the Basin”, I thought very quietly to myself.
Even with an early morning start, the famous Chisos Basin was already becoming crowded. As I was detaching my car key from its keychain, I eyed an old friend; the Nitecore Tube. At nine grams, it’s the definition of ultralight. It actually used to be my main torch before I switched it out for the NU 25, and rehomed it to my everyday carry. With only nine hours of sunlight available during the day, and a waning moon, I decided to chuck it into my ditty bag at the last second. A fateful decision, it would turn out.
I slung my Cutaway onto my back and set off. The Basin was practically teeming with life, and not just with suburbanites. Birds and squirrels danced from tree to tree, as herds of mule deer lazily grazed just off trail. As I started my descent into Blue Creek Canyon, I ran into a gentleman with a ULA pack. I may have tuned him into this sub, as he was finishing the Outer Mountain Loop and was interested in shedding a bit more weight off his back. If you’re reading this, how’s it going D? The line between
ultralight and
ultralight_jerk can be thin at times, huh? Can’t wait for your shakedown post: )
Blue Creek Canyon is a personal favorite of mine in Big Bend, its tall walls and gentle limestone spires loom over as you walk by. I hiked past Homer Wilson Ranch and paused a moment. Everything so far had been familiar territory, and I was about to venture into the unknown. The further you travel from the Basin, the less information there is about the route.
With the next step, I was on the road. Literally. It’s a three mile road walk to Chimneys, and a bit dicey at times. More than once I had to step off of the road and bushwack through deep thickets of thorns to avoid an upcoming Ford F-150 (it’s Texas, y’all). The temperature kept climbing as I baked on the asphalt, but the turn off finally came and I walked on to the Chimneys.
The Chimneys are a rock outcrop on a desert floor void of any other geographical features. The petroglyphs there are cool, and you can do some minor bouldering. I was more interested in shade though, as the temperature was hitting 87 degrees.
Why didn’t I brought my umbrella for this? I swig of water later, and I was off again. I could have stayed there in the shade, but the BB100 is all about your water strategy. Especially true of a dry year, but there are hardly any reliable water sources in Big Bend. To remain stationary and drink water, is to shorten your supply of liquid gold without insuring your next source. I was happy I could easily put in the long miles between the few reliable sources of water there are out there. That was MY strategy at least.
Santa Elena Canyon drew closer as I made my way down Old Maverick Road. The popular Terlingua Abajo campsite came and went, and Terlingua Creek opened up as I rounded a corner. The word ‘creek’ doesn’t do it justice. This tributary of the Rio would be called a river in any other setting. It was MASSIVE. Ducks live there year round. In fact, its size created a bit of a problem.
How the hell am I supposed to cross this thing? As I worked out where to cross the Terlingua Monster, I chugged water. I was so effin thirsty. My watch had read 93 degrees an hour earlier, but grey clouds had started to gather, and as the sun began to set, the temperature also began to fall. I was starting to worry I would have to set up camp and find a crossing in the morning. I scouted for about 20 minutes, all the while chugging water.
When was the last time I peed? I was able to find a beaver dam of sorts, crossed the creek, and stepped into an oasis. After all my years of desert travel, I had never seen a true wild oasis, I realized. It was as loud as forest, with the sounds of living insects and birds. I barely made any ground as I stared around.
I felt great, even after a thirty mile day, so I decided to keep moving. As I stepped further from the creek, the oasis thinned, as did the trail. Eventually, there was nothing to follow at all. I picked an Eastern heading, and followed dry creek beds to the base of the Mesa de Aguilla. Light became dimmer and dimmer, and soon after the sun set, I reached for my NU 25.
Click. Nothing.
What? Again, click. Nothing.
...WHAT? Fuuuuuuck. It wouldn’t turn on. Just as I came to that realization, the dark clouds above began to sprinkle.
What the actually living fuck is happening right now? In a split second, I made the decision to stop. I reached back and fumbled for my keychain light. A few seconds later, it was clipped to my hat and I had light. I pulled out my tarp, but the soft dirt in the area wouldn’t hold my stakes.
“No worries,” I thought,
“I can use some rocks.” Nope. All the rocks were as small as pebbles.
...seriously? The rain began to pick up. In a last ditch effort, I pulled out all my quilt and mattress, set up a hasty camp, and wrapped myself in the tarp on the barren desert floor. As thunder boomed, I let out a steady rumble of inaudible expletives. It was going to be a long night.
Day 2 - 26.24 Miles My alarm went off at 4 AM, but I hardly needed it. The DCF material of the tarp had worked as an amplifier of sorts, and I had gotten to intimately know each and every drop of rain as the course of the night went on. In fact, it was STILL raining. For the record, the forecast had called for a 30% chance of scattered showers before midnight... Not too long after my alarm went off though, it dissipated slightly, and I took the opportunity to break camp and hike.
Hey, my NU 25 is working! The rain had turned the dry creek beds at the base of the Mesa into true arroyos, or dry sandy creek beds that are hard to travel on. Travel was indeed hard, but I was happy to not be confined to my DCF tomb, and was ecstatic that my headlamp worked again. Before long, the night began to give way to the light, and the rain stopped altogether. As I gained more light, a towering abyss of darkness materialized to the West. The Mesa I was about to climb was truly daunting.
The Mesa de Anguila is one of the least visited sections of the national park. Most visitors don’t even know about it. But to desert hikers, especially those that love to backpack in the Chihuahuan Desert, it’s steeped in rich legend and history. I was most excited and terrified about this section of the route, as I had never been up there.
I reached a low point in the limestone wall, and began to climb. It wasn’t too bad, but I could see this being a terrifying venture for some hikers. It’s a pretty exposed and steep climb. I would NOT attempt this in the dark, as had been my plan the night before. In the grand scheme of things, maybe the rain and headlamp malfunction had stopped me from doing something really stupid.
I finally crested the Mesa, and was floored. I had imagined it would be a flat barren limestone block, like off of a Wile E. Coyote cartoon. I’m writing this about four days after my trip ended, and I still don’t know how to describe it well. The fact of the matter was that I had climbed into a whole new world; a snowglobe within a snowglobe of sorts. Hills, draws, canyons, and ridges still existed up here. But it was just...different somehow. As if the landscape grew in defiance of a higher power. Maybe someone else can help me describe it.
Early on, there were signs of life. I crossed a dam, left over from the pioneer days of the area, and then hiked past some large deep caves. Cairns littered the brush, but they were hard to make out until you were right on top of them.
The route on the western half of the Mesa tethers you to the desert floor and the dry creek beds in the area, broiling you alive as the temperatures in Chihuahuan Desert climb. I only had a little over two liters of water left, and there were no tinajas available. Travel on the Mesa was also blistering slow. I tried my best to conserve precious water. I'd wait until I couldn't stand my dry throat, then savor every small swig I took.
When I began to feel lightheaded, I found a small crevice in a small cliff where I could be shielded from the sun's pale harsh rays. I took the opportunity to dry my gear from last night's storm. The temperature was reaching the high 80s. With a little food in me, the break worked well enough, and I was on the trail again.
The Mesa really tested my navigation skills, as well as my mental fortitude. I got lost A LOT out there. The trails were faint, and the geographic features inside of the Mesa were indistinguishable from one another, making navigation incredibly hard. At one point, I became mesmerized by a green flowery valley, and lost 20 minutes following the wrong set of cairns. Despite its challenges, I'd like to plan further expeditions into the Mesa. This place is wild, in every sense of the word.
As the afternoon continued, and I reached the western half of the Mesa, travel became easier. I picked up an old pack trail, grabbed a ridge, and made my way to Lajitas. As I descended, I could see the Rio Grande off in the distance.
Back on the desert floor, I hiked into town, and waved a hello to Clay Henry, the mayor of Lajitas. He also happens to be a
very dapper looking goat. I refilled my water at the Barton Warnock Visitors Center. Unfortunately, it was late in the day and so I couldn't grab a backcountry permit for the state park.
Hmmmm. Well…I'll be passing the Sauceda Visitor Center tomorrow, so I’ll make it my business to get there before closing time, and square away my permits and fees. I continued into the state park, as light rapidly fell from the face of various Chiuahuan mountain ranges. At which point, the wildlife began to come out, as only I’ve seen it do a few times at night. Crickets chirped. Squadrons of Javelina snuffed and rooted for sustenance, just off trail. Coyotes sung about the new possibilities the night could bring. Perhaps a fresh kill? All accented by small meteors dashing across the sky. While I passed through the desert in silence, like a ghost.
Day 3 - 24.66 Miles My alarm went off at 6 AM, but I laid still for a long while, as I watched the tail end of the Geminid meteor shower. There were only one or two per minute, but as a city dweller most of my life, I may as well have been watching the movie “Armageddon”. The crescent moon and Venus eventually ended the bombastic celestial show, and pulled the sun from below the horizon.
Is this what camping is like? I don’t think I’ve ever slowed down. Even in the default world, I'm running around at breakneck speeds. To finish assignments. To complete deadlines. To make a meeting. I think I’d like to slow down for a while, when I get back. Yea, I think I’d like that.
As I finally got going, my eyes caught the many things that I had missed during the night hike. The deep red of the desert mountains. The abundance of trees that live in the canyons of Big Bend Ranch State Park. The water seeping from the cliff sides. Better yet, the amount of water everywhere.
Why isn’t the state park more popular? Yet still, I wouldn’t trade it for watching a meteor shower while hiking, or the sound of dozens of coyotes singing what I imagine were Christamas carols.
Part of my day involved a steady gain of elevation from Lajitas. The other part was walking through more water fed pools of life. The Banos de Madrid were particularly beautiful. I actually lost the trail for a few minutes, as I lost myself in exploration. Orchards of yellow trees lined Fresno and Chorro Canyons.
The climb continued, and eventually I reached an overlook where I could see the full length of the Banos. And then, that’s when I had a fateful encounter with a rock. As I made my way to the edge of the overlook, a rock which SEEMED to be able to bear my weight... could not. It slipped underneath two small rocks as soon as I stepped on it, and my leg got swallowed into the resulting hole. As I stopped, I pitched forward, slammed my shin into another rock, and the full contents of my front pocket careened forward and out to a rocky ledge just below.
My first thought was,
“...OWWWW. WHAT THE FUUUUUCK?!?!?!?” ...As were my second, third, and fourth thoughts. After a half minute though, I was able to get my shit together. I pushed myself out of the hole to survey the damage. My leg was split open and gushing blood, but nothing besides my spirit was broken.
At least I’m hydrated enough to bleed. I made my way down to the ledge and collected my things. What I didn’t know at the time was that my NU25 had also been launched into the desert, never to be seen again. I wouldn't come to realize this for quite some time.
Navigation was hard at times, after the Banos. The trails were crisscrossed by game trails, or had been eroded by wind and rain into extinction. After the Mexicano Overlook, the views became less frequent and I entered what I like to call “the microwave.” Meaning the trail takes you up and over a small hill, just to have you come down the other side and climb the next hill. In Big Bend, it also means the temperature picks up. It was SCORCHING in that microwave.
After a few hours of the microwave, I reached some dirt roads and made my way over to the Sauceda Visitor Center. I was greeted by the NICEST state park ranger I’ve ever had the pleasure of speaking to. However, she told me that they stopped writing permits for the BB100 recently and that I may not be allowed to continue my hike. She went into the back to check out an old email, and to speak with a supervisor on the phone. I only heard one end of the conversation, but it didn’t sound like it was going well for me. After fifteen minutes or so, she came back with a sheet of paper and a smile.
Holy Pmags, I’m IN! The permit took a while to finish, and a crowd of about ten people started to form behind me. I knew I was losing precious daylight hours too, but I considered myself really lucky to get the chance to legally finish my hike. Permit in hand, I thanked the ranger profusely and made my way around the corner to refill on water, throw away trash, and repack all my gear.
The next person in line walked up to the ranger, and started to ask about car camping spots near the border of Big Bend National Park.
“Why don’t you ask that fella around the corner about the national park? He just came from over there. Took him about 70 miles to get here,” the ranger added.
“...He walked over here,” one man asked.
“Sure he did. He’s on a bit of a long walk actually, and has another 30 miles left. Should be done tomorrow, I think,” the ranger said.
That last bit of information sent the small crowd into a raucous. “Crazy,” one woman said. “That’s incredible.” one father said. A small smirk managed its way onto my face. I have to admit, in that moment, I felt kinda cool.
The moment passed quickly though, as it was in that moment I noticed my lack of a headlamp. After another short burst of creative expletives, I forced myself to take a series of deep breaths. There was nothing else that could be done about the situation. I slung my pack again, and briskly made some miles on the open road before entering my first arroyo. The next few miles would all be along these sandy creek beds that line the canyons in this area.
I was astounded by the views. The canyons held an abundance of beautiful trees, and the canyon walls themselves looked formidable and strong. There were signs of wildlife everywhere as well, and at one point, I rounded a corner and came face to face with a mighty bull with matching horns. The one and only time I’ve come across a bull in the wild, it bluff charged me before I was able to convince it that I wasn’t worth the hassle. This regal fella let me pass though, as it lazily munched on grass.
I passed some sizable tinajas, and slot canyons as well. In fact, sometimes the two features combined, and I would have to scrabble off to the side to find a pass, closer to the canyon wall. This was actually a lot of fun, but as the light in the canyon became golden behind the yellow trees, I knew my time was limited.
Eventually, the sunlight failed altogether and I had to reach back for my keychain light. I clipped it to my hat and adjudged the lumens so I could see the area right in front of my feet. It wasn’t that bad actually. This section of trail all takes place in these arroyos, so navigation was straight forward; just follow the canyon. I came to a small intersection, where I had the option to leave the arroyos for about a mile or two, or stay in the canyon and follow it to a small intermittent creek.
I chose to stay in the canyon so as to avoid potentially losing the trail on a barren ridgeline. Travel and navigation remained easy, but what I didn’t notice at the time was how the canyon was narrowing. Without my knowing, I was being funneled into tighter and tighter spaces.
I came across a small tinaja, and skirted it to the side. Down a small rock or two, and back onto level ground. The process repeated a few times, each time the tinaja becoming a little larger and deeper, and the steps became larger and steeper. Eventually, I came across a shallow but large tinaja. It was close to 10 PM, the temperatures were getting colder and colder, and if I wanted to cross this body of water I would have to get my feet wet. I looked at the map, and saw I was close to the intersection with the creek. I had another ten or fifteen minutes left in the canyon, so I decided to cross the tinaja. I took a small jump down, and as I reached the other side of the tinaja, I found myself boxed in all four sides.
…..fuck me, shit. I’m fucked. The next ledge with level ground was about thirty feet below me. It held an even bigger and deeper tinaja. The canyon walls hugged me on each side. And without realizing it, where I had just jumped down had been a large wall as well.
I allowed myself to panic for thirty seconds, before forcing myself to calm down and brainstorm. My best option was the wall to my right. It was
only about fifteen to twenty feet tall, and had a slight slope that ended in what seemed like a rocky ledge. It lacked any holes though, and only offered a rough surface for hand and foot holds.
I allowed myself another thirty seconds of panic before turning on my In-Reach, taking one deep breath, and scaling the wall. I was like a small arachnid crawling up a tremendous tree. I was not very graceful, I must admit. But I was fast, and after some spicy moments, I was able to pull myself up to the shallow ledge.
I let out a third string of creative expletives that echoed off the canyon walls and into the densely packed starlit night. The ledge dropped off to one side, but continued back along to the canyon to where I had just come from. I couldn’t continue forward, but I felt lucky enough to make it out of the canyon in one piece to not really care all that much. After one or two more spicy spots, I found my way out of the arroyo and onto actual trail.
I’m really surprised I could follow the faint trail, but my senses were probably dialed up to eleven after Spiderman-ing my way out of that slot canyon. That little flashlight was working overtime. I met up with Terrenos Creek, whose creekbed was both dry and wet at times. After a few more miles, I found a small nook that was protected by an overhanging tree branch. I was mentally beat, so I took the out and made a hasty camp for the night.
Day 4 - 17.29 Miles Truth be told, there wasn’t supposed to be a Day 4. I had expected to finish around 3 AM and crash at the Western Terminus until a friend picked me up at noon. But as you can see, loads of unplanned stuff happened, and I still had a handful of miles to go. Lucky for me though, my legs were good for it.
I swung my pack on one last time, turned on some “Daddy Issues” and “Descendants,” and crushed some miles. By the time the sun came up, I was peddling my way out of the arroyos and onto discombobulated jeep trails.
I gained elevation pretty quickly, and as I did, the wind whipped me left to right and back to the left. A cold front must have come through during the night. “
Oh well,” I thought, as I continued to move forward.
The last cool thing I saw on this trip was a family of fat javelinas walking on a ridge above mine. These guys were HUMONGOUS. Very rarely have I seen a wild hog in the daylight too, but who the hell would want to mess with
these guys?
Noon came and went, but I was still a mile or two out.
Fuck. I kept on chugging, this time dialing up my speed. I finally crested the last big hill on the trail and saw my friend's truck, followed by a large cloud of dirt. I took off at a sprint. I was late, and was afraid they’d leave if they didn’t see me at the trailhead. You see, this “trailhead” is nothing more than a speck of dirt on a long windy road in the middle of nowhere. She could easily miss it and keep driving into Mexico.
Luckily, she stopped. I could see her as she stepped out of the truck, and I waved at her with my trekking pole. She waved back(!), prompting me to slow down to a walk, and then a crawl. I was
spent. I was able to make it across the finish line, but collapsed onto her truck the moment I didn’t have to bear my own weight anymore.
It’s over. I can drink all the water I want. TLDR: Desert hiker is humbled by the Big Bend area, but sees some cool shit along the way.
Lightning Round Gear Review: Gryphon Gear Aries 30 - the desert is an intimidating place in winter. Just look at the temperature swings I expereneed. Highs in the mid 90s, which drained and dehydrated me, with lows in the high 20s, which gave me numb fingers after a few minutes of hiking with bare hands. Weather in general is very volatile in the desert, just take a look at my GRT
trip report. Hell, it rained the first four days of my NOBO PCT attempt. I wanted a quilt I knew could handle that challenge, and after MONTHS of debate, I decided the Aries 30 would ensure a comfortable trip. You can read more about the specs
here, and how it stacks against a more familiar quilt, but after this trip, I believe this quilt can face any challenge, with toasty draft-free nights. At times, it was almost too much quilt. But that’s a far better problem to have, then the quilt not being warm enough. Quilts are easy to vent anyway.
Uberlite - The short version, more specifically. This was the first time in years that I tried my hand at a 20 inch wide inflatable pad. I like to use CCF, and only occasionally use inflatables. When I do, they tend to be wider. But I didn’t mind the width at all, especially when I slept on my sides. I wouldn't trust it to survive the desert by itself, so I paired it with my ⅛” Thinlight. That combo really worked well on this trip.
Uncrustables - a month ago, in the Weekly Thread, I mentioned that these are my go-to breakfast and dinners. I still think they’re fine, but on trips or ressupplies longer than four days, I think I’d like to supplement these with homemade wraps or jerky. I noticed on my last day that they had become drier and less flavorful, the longer they stayed out of the freezer. Especially the ones that were crushed inside my pack.Proceed with caution.
NU 25 - I just bought a replacement for the one I lost on this trip. Some of you may be thinking, "woah, I wouldn’t trust that headlamp after it gave you soon much trouble." But you have to realize that I used this headlamp for almost three years. Not just on backpacking trips, but on early morning trail runs. So multiple times a week, every week, sometimes for hours on end. Sure it acted a little funny on my first night of this trip, but after that much abuse, it was bound to start acting weird eventually. Maybe it was even serendipitous to lose it on that overlook, on my third day. I still think it’s a great headlamp.
Nitecore Tube - If there were an MVP for this trip, it would be this little guy. What a clutch decision to bring it along at the last second. It saved my ass, TWICE, while I was out there. If you don’t really plan to do much night hiking, or want to have a go at a XUL set up, I’d take a hard look at this affordable torch. Especially with this
mod to clip it to your hat. It overperformed, given its weight.
Training - After my trip to the Winds this past summer, I realized that I was in decent shape, but my aerobic capacity was somewhat lacking. I spent the next four months focusing my training to become more aerobically fit, while maintaining muscle strength. It’s been a fun change, and this was my first ambitious multi-day trip since the Winds. I can say that I never became tired physically. Even the hardest parts of this trip were not that challenging to me, and this is a brutally unforgiving trail. What did give way were my mental facilities. I made more navigational errors, the longer the day went, and the longer I was out there. I think mental fitness is the next form of training I need to embark on.
Senchi Fleece - Made of 4409 Polartec Alpha, this is the lighter airy version of the two fleeces the company makes. I’ve owned this since April 2020, but didn’t start using it until August. After about 300 miles, and about eight days and nights of trail use, I feel confident in saying that it fits my hiking style well. Hike all day, with late nights and early mornings possible. On this trip specifically, I’d wear it at night while setting up camp. Usually with my rain jacket on top. Then wear it to sleep by itself. On the last morning, when the temps stayed in the 30s well after 9 AM, and the wind chapped the parts of my face not covered by hair, I kept my rain jacket over it. For similar hikers, this is a good three season piece that could replace a traditional mid layer. Durability hasn’t been an issue for me, during on-trail and off--trail excursions. This stuff was made for Operators, I doubt that it’ll meet its match on groomed trails.
With all that positive stuff said, let me level with you. I think yall need to chill. It’s a fleece. Any fleece would suit a similar hiker. The fleece in your closet
right now, whether it be the P97, the ON Go-Warm, the Macpac Nitro, the R1, ….the Palante Grid Fleece, the Montane Allez, the Arcteryx Delta...I can do this all day…the Rab Nucleus, the Haglof LIM, the Melly, ect...all of these would fit that same bill. Put your credit card away, close down reddit, and go on a backpacking trip.
Or maybe just plan one on Caltopo. Five of you messaged me the weekend before I set off for this trip. I’m not sure what made yall pop at the same time, but please just go enjoy the outdoors with what you have. I’m very happy for the success of Senchi, but I sometimes wish this sub wasn’t so gear oriented.
I hope you don’t read the above paragraph as a “do not disturb” sign. In fact, I really enjoy talking to y’all on a one on one basis. I spent three hours this past summer, helping someone plan their WRHR trip. In real life, I helped my friend beat my GRT FKT record by shuttling them to the Eastern Terminus, and spent the 24 hours prior with them discussing the trail in great detail. I’m more than happy to discuss why a piece of gear worked or didn’t work on a specific trip, why and how I use my gear, or to help you plan your own gnarly adventures. But I find it really boring when I’m used as a point of confirmation bias, or as a justification for you to buy a new piece of gear you don’t need. Idk. I’ll probably be crucified for saying so. Oh well, I’m gonna go plan my next trip.
Future trips - I've done some really ambitious trips this year. Even my day hikes have been arduous expeditions into the unknown and dangerous. I’d like to go on
some easier trips next year. Like an overnighter to a nice lake, where I drink hot cocoa or something. I’ve never done anything like that. I’m serious, I don't know how to relax. I’m too competitive for my own good, and would like to slow things down for a change.
submitted by These pages describe slot canyons and other narrow gorges of the Southwest, mostly within the Colorado Plateau of north Arizona and south Utah. All canyons listed are explorable by hiking, scrambling and limited climbing, ie without need for rappelling or any equipment. Some technical canyons are included if a reasonable amount can be seen in this way. All may be visited on day trips, and with What a beautiful Slot Canyon. We had so much fun with this. It was hard to stop, because everyone wanted to see all of the Slot Canton. I wanted that too as well. There was sans. There were huge boulders. Quite high and some smaller. However, all of them are beautiful! We finished just when the sun was setting. I will always remember this These slot canyons are tucked away in a remote region of Capitol Reef National Park. Not only are they fun to hike, but you just might have them all to yourself. Headquarters Canyon is short, sweet, and super easy to hike, and in my opinion, the more thrilling of these two slot canyons. Surprise Canyon, located about one mile away, is also a Les canyons sur la Hole in the rock road : randonnées à Peekaboo, Spooky Gulch, Zebra slot et Tunnel slot. Et aussi : où dormir à Escalante Slot canyons are narrow gorges in soft rocks like Utah’s layered sedimentary deposits. They are named for their narrow width, often squeezing down to a sliver. It is said that Utah has the largest concentration of slot canyons in the world, and many of them are easily accessible. Discover the best Ces slot canyons sont donc situés le long de la Hole In The Rock Road qui traverse le Grand Staircase Escalante National Monument et qui est vraiment de toute beauté !!! Conclusion. Moins Wahou d'un point de vue visuel qu'Antelope Canyon mais avec beaucoup moins de monde et avec un accès gratuit, ce trio de slot canyons est vraiment à découvrir si vous avez du temps et que vous souhaitez Slot canyons are like nature’s best-kept secret that so rare and exquisite mother nature took millions of years to architect it. These canyons are so beautiful and surreal that it is hard to believe that these are natural and real. A slender canyon formed by the erosion due to water hitting the rock is known as a slot canyon. These are mostly composed in sandstone and limestone rock, but Canyons, Randonnées Désolé, il n'y a aucun circuit ni aucune activité disponible à la réservation en ligne à la date que vous avez sélectionnée. Choisissez une autre date. SLOT CANYON - WHERE YOUR MOAB ADVENTURE BEGINS Conveniently located near downtown Moab, Slot Canyon is the perfect place to rest from your adventures. The newly renovated building is full of natural light and modern decor and is the ideal basecamp for couples, families, and friends. Outdoor space - unique for each unit - is the perfect hangout for relaxing after the day's adventures. Slot Tunnel Slot porte très bien son nom car c'est l'un des rares canyons à ne jamais voir la lumière du soleil. Ses parois rocheuses se referment quelques dizaines de mètres plus haut, empêchant ainsi le soleil d'y laisser passer quelques rayons. C'est donc l'expérience unique d'entrer dans un petit tunnel naturel!
The Chesler Park Trail in #Canyonlands leads you into seemingly unnavigable terrain, through a maze of impossibly shaped #canyons surrounded by otherworldly ... The slot canyons are just one aspect of Utah's amazing natural landscape. For information on Outward Bound's canyoneering courses, visit http://www.outwardbo... If you can't get a permit to hike The Wave, then hiking the Slot Canyons at Wire Pass into Buckskin Gulch from Kanab, Utah is a great alternative.Hiking in t... During our ambitious road trip last spring, we spent an afternoon outside of Escalante, Utah hiking and squeezing through the tight crevices of Peek-a-boo an... 10 Awesome Slot Canyons Around The World10 Awesome Slot Canyons Around The World ` Touropia Travel ...10 Awesome Slot Canyons Around The World - YoutubeThe T... Slot canyons are cracks in the petrified stone of ancient seabeds, now revealed by eons of erosion and shaped by the rushing waters of flash floods. Some of the most colorful are un northern ... The lady giving me a ride was so nice to offer me her spare house to sleep in and also told me about the Slot canyons in the area, which was perfect news for me after having missed the famous ... It is worth your time to visit the lesser known slot canyons of Arizona.This video contains photos taken at Canyon-X Slot Canyon and Horseshoe Bend Slot Cany... Where to find gold is the most common question I get. Here is another trick on where you should look to find gold.Slot canyons create a dynamic physical env... Here is a video from my trek off of the beaten path to the Sunday Slot. It is a gorgeous slot canyon that is hidden, thus no directions are provided in the ...
![Hiking Slot Canyons at Wire Pass [ Buckskin Gulch ] Kanab ...](https://i.ytimg.com/vi/U6nTQ4CuMDU/default.jpg "The lady giving me a ride was so nice to offer me her spare house to sleep in and also told me about the Slot canyons in the area, which was perfect news for me after having missed the famous ...")
