October 21st, 2016: Part two
(Writing from my “campsite” in White Pocket. Not sure if this is Arizona or Utah. This is one of those places that the state line is just an imaginary line in the sand. There’s no one here anyways)
Mood: At ease
#Vanlife tidbit: For cleaning dishes, use a spray bottle. Just dumping water out of my jug has wasted so much water.
2nd life tip: Just don’t judge. As I walked into the mechanic in Page, AZ, I saw a big Trump sign and a confederate flag hanging there to obviously be seen. Mike couldn’t have been a nicer guy and I deeply, deeply thank him for his help. He saw a kid in need that was in way over his head, and he offered a lending hand. Only charged me for 2 hours, but I was there for 5. He taught me how to fix things, what was making certain things squeak, and what to look out for. A true gentleman, and I apologize forever thinking he was just some racist bumpkin.
Today was possibly the best day of the trip so far, and probably one of the best days I’ve had in my entire life.
Out in the remote Utah desert, between highway 89 and 89a, and between Page, AZ and Kanab, UT, there’s a region called the Vermillion Cliffs. The entire area is marked with beautiful red rocks — gorges, slot canyons, and rock formations. I had planned on coming out to this area to hike a trail called Buckskin Gulch, as it came highly recommended by a kind, pimply faced 18 year old Utah weirdo (everyone from Utah is weird). It also gave me a reason to spend a few days exploring the lesser-known areas of this beautiful region.
The Buckskin Gulch takes many shapes — it could either be a ravine, or a 400-foot tall slot canyon. Just to the south of the Buckskin Gulch, lies an area within Vermillion Cliffs called North Coyote Butte. In this little area called North Coyote Butte, there is something called The Wave. Now, The Wave is the Holy Grail for nature people. People flock from all over the planet to come see this little rock formation out in the middle-of-no-where. However, The Wave is illusive — extremely illusive. Permits are distributed by lottery. There are 20 or so given per day. You can get one online, where your chances are 1 in a thousand. Or, you enter the lottery in person, where they give away ten out of a pool that averages 200 people. (Side story: The lady at the BLM office was giving me the spiel about how you go about getting a permit, but I interrupted her and bluntly asked, “So, am I ever going to get to see it in my lifetime?” The funny thing about the next few seconds was, she appeared offended as if that was something she had never thought about. I don’t think it had ever occurred to her that the system that she promotes prevents people from ever seeing The Wave. Interestingly enough, I could tell that this realization bothered her.)
On Thursday the 20th, I took a short walk through the first part of the Buckskin to explore a bit before sun went down. After taking a look at a map, I realized that there was another trailhead (called, Wirepass) that lead into the Buckskin at a farther point, so I decided that I would head over there and camp for the night and then explore further from here in the morning. It’s crazy now that I’m writing this out to see how random and lucky this sequence of events was.
Fast-forward a few hours to pulling into the Wirepass trailhead parking lot/camp area, I ask these two guys if it’s cool to camp here and they say, “We’ve been here 4 days.” Sounds like a yes. The older of the two, who turns out to the be the father, starts asking about my van, and after a quick back and forth, I invite them over for a few beers after dinner. Theo, the son, comes over and we quickly hit it off as he’s super interested in learning about the van and my set up (he’s also possibly the most polite, nice person I’ve ever met. It was strange — looking back on it now — how cool and down-to-earth he was).
We get to drinking and chatting and my short-term plans come up. I let them know where I’ve been, that I wanted to hike the Gulch and that I really wanted to get to The Wave but that it would be impossible, etc etc. Right when I say this, Theo goes, “I may be able to help you, actually.” He runs down to his car and brings back the map to The Wave. See, when you get a permit, the BLM office give you a map to The Wave with pictures, instructions, and corresponding GPS coordinates. This was it. This was my chance. I knew that I could use the GPS coordinates + my watch to find it and find it fast. So I packed my Camelback for the next morning, made my breakfast and lunch, and got my clothes together as it was going to be a cold, early morning. Last thing I had to check was the penalty for going to The Wave without a permit and upon hearing $150- $1,000, we were on.
I woke up at 6:15am and wow it’s cold. It’s got to be somewhere between 35 and 45 because I’m three layers deep and still freezing. Nonetheless, I make a pot of piping hot tea, slurp it down, get my things together, and I’m on the trail by about 7:00am. Sunrise isn’t until 7:40am and I’m moving fast thanks to knowing exactly where I need to go. I have the entire area to myself, and the sunrise walk hike was just astounding.
At about 8:15, I make my final approach up another one of those killer sand dunes. Although still in the shade, The Wave is one of the most beautiful things that I have ever seen in my entire life. And the best part: I have it all to myself.
After taking pictures and relaxing, I departed at about 8:50am. I would have stayed longer, but I was getting paranoid that I would run into a ranger out there with no chance at an excuse. I made my way back, staying about 20 yards off the trail just in case I saw anybody (which I did, a group of 3 girls).
At about the point where the North Coyote Butte trail and Wirepass split, I saw an older guy, in a hat and regular hiking clothes. However, when I got closer, it became clear that the hat was a BLM hat and this was the guy checking for permits. The time was about 9:55am. As I approached him, he asked, “Where are you headed?” Me, in three layers, a headlamp, and clearly sweating like crazy, go, “I’m looking for Wirepass trail. Am I close?” Without suspecting a thing he replies, “Oh yeah, you missed it by just a turn. It’s right over there.” And with that, I triumphantly returned back to the van. Happy as a damn clam.
Since it was still early, I took some time to relax and enjoy the feeling of just having seen one of the most beautiful places around. I couldn’t get over how beautiful it was. The way the rock flowed just like a wave, and then how the sandstone broke up into different colors. That mixed with the solitude made for an unforgettable morning. It was quite literally a dream come true as I really questioned if I was ever going to see The Wave in my lifetime.
After a short rest, I refilled my pack and put down my cold weather clothing. I decided to hike back out to actually go take a walk through the Wirepass and check out the Buckskin. Although flooded very early on, the slot canyons that I did get to see were beautiful, even though everything seemed dull compared to The Wave. After returning home, I took a shower and headed out for White Pocket, which was recommended to me a few times. More so than the scenery, I was told the road was a fun 4x4 adventure, so I couldn’t resist. Although the rock formation is quite cool, the real blessing was the night sky that this place afforded. Wow is all I have to say.
I really can’t get enough of this Northern Arizona/Southern Utah region, and I’m ecstatic to just be getting started. Only 13 more days until I pick Lexie up from St. George. I really don’t know what to do with these next few days. I guess that’s what this open ended traveling thing is about, right?
