Having arrived to the campsite at night, the rising sun brought our first sight of the magical landscape. A giant sandstone finger pointing to the heavens glowed red with first light, and we watched it shrink into the horizon as we scraped frost from our windshield and headed into the park.
Canyonlands National Park
To take advantage of the great weather we were having that morning, we made a 10 mile loop out of the Squaw flat and Lost Canyon trails near “The Needles” and set off. Within the first mile, we were excited to discover that this wasn’t a “normal” trail – each turn brought a new adventure – stream hopping, scrambling, and following cairns up and down steep desert bowls. Our journey brought us to a saddle where we gasped at the incredible views in both directions. Initially we were unable to say much more than “wow”, but eventually Alan managed a second word: “echo”, to which a chorus of Alans replied.
We finished the hike fast – my eagerness to discover what was around the next turn hurried us along. With tons of time to spare, we picked a campsite in the park, set up the hammock, and took time to soak in the views. We took in the fresh air, read, and played guitar. With work and the “real world” quickly approaching, we were extra aware of how fortunate we were. Very soon, even watching the sunset would be a luxury.
Indian Creek
The best way to hide from the wind is to find a nice dihedral!
The next morning we were eager to climb the Indian Creek cracks we had heard so much about. Armed with a full extra trad rack (thanks Julie and Marty!), we set off toward the parking area despite a questionable weather forecast. The sandstone had finally dried out enough to climb, and rain was coming later that day. This was our chance.
Immediately blasted by wind upon stepping out of the car, I’m surprised to find Alan gathering our gear for the climb. Was he reading the howling wind and grey skies differently than I was? A tumbleweed hits the car. Then another. Highly skeptical, I put on all my layers and follow Alan up the trail. A huge gust brings eight tumbleweeds directly at us, blocking the path. At this point we can only laugh.
We reach the route, Twin Cracks (5.8+), and Alan starts up the deep red sandstone. Next it was my turn to climb, and just as I reached the anchors, raindrops started falling softly. We exchanged big smiles while packing up. This small taste of Indian Creek had us eager to return.
The roadtrip continued. While sad to leave this otherworldly landscape, we had more adventures ahead.
