November tends to be a dead zone for Colorado hikers. It's too early for skiing or even snowshoeing in the high country. But cold temps and the threat of blizzards are present even if the snow is lacking. Most backpackers sit out the month, maybe catching up on their favorite trail magazine. Not all Colorado is high country and 14er's though. Out beyond the West Elks, the Uncompahgre Plateau runs from the Utah border 60 miles southeast down to the edge of the San Juans. Elevations range from 4000 feet along the rivers to 9000 feet at the crest. The terrain is mostly a rolling plateau of pinyon-juniper grasslands.

Red rock canyons cut their way down from the plateau to the Gunnison River. Some of these are incorporated into the BLM’s Dominguez Canyon Wilderness, part of the larger Dominguez-Escalante National Conservation Area. The Big and Little Dominguez Canyons form one possible loop route from the Gunnison River up to the crest and back again. Only Big Dominguez canyon sports a maintained trail. But I had heard reports that the route was navigable. That was good enough for me.

Colorado had a second blast of winter in late October – a foot of snow with lows down to 5 degrees. But skies were clear as I cruised US50 toward Montrose, then turned down the gravel road to the trailhead on the Gunnison. I stepped out of the car into the chill sunshine, slung on my pack and commenced walking.

Lost Highway of the Uncompahgre

The trail starts along the river, crosses railroad tracks and then the river itself. It passes through a rafter campground and turns upstream at the junction with Dominguez Creek. Here Dominguez Canyon is a wide bottomland, the red rock walls of Entrada Sandstone spaced a good half-mile apart, a few hoodoos and pillars standing out on corners. The trail is a relict ranch road rolling smoothly through grasslands and groves. I passed the turnoff where the Big Dominguez trail heads west up its canyon and continued south along Little Dominguez Creek. After a few miles, the canyon takes a sharp right turn to the west and immediately leads into an ice-covered marsh. The ice being too thin to support my weight, I skirted it by a climb along the canyon wall.

The canyon then opens out in a series of benches and side gulches. Although the trail had disappeared, I snaked easily through the canyon, warmed by the low glare of the late afternoon sun. A high side bench above the cold damp creek bottom offered a good campsite, and I called it a day.

On the second day I was up before dawn and moving by 7, aiming to hike the last ten miles of the canyon and to spend the night up on the plateau. I like canyons, but I like open country even more. My pace slowed as I ascended and the canyon narrowed. The brush – willows near the creek and saltbrush on the benches – was thick and unyielding. The creek, which I crossed many times, was mostly too wide to jump and was often iced-over. The ice extended up the banks, as I discovered when I hopped across at a narrow spot and landed on a glazed rock. I went down in a sprawl, my face in the dirt and a foot in the creek.

I held out hope that the walking would get easier as I progressed up the canyon. Perhaps the vegetation would thin out or be replaced by forms more conducive to travel. The opposite occurred. There is just enough moisture in the canyon to grow the pinyons close together. Worse, thickets of Gambel Oak appeared, forcing me at times to crawl my way forward. Or to give up and backtrack and try a different side of the canyon altogether.

By late afternoon I had made it only half way to the head of the canyon. It was clear that I would not make it out by sunset. I pushed as far as I could, boxed in by endless walls of brush and steep crumbly canyon walls. The frustration got to me as I tired of fighting for every step forward. Feeling trapped, my progress glacial, I stopped and cursed and yelled into the silence. The canyon was indifferent. There was no parting of the brush, no light to guide me, no revelation of an easier path. No choice but to keep scrambling forward – or, just as often, sideways, trying to find a more passable route.

I managed to find a small sloping bench at sunset and set up my tarp by flashlight. I crawled in and collapsed, pretty well played out by the day’s exertions. But I like to end the day with a song on my trusty plastic ukulele. Today’s selection was “Lost Highway” by Hank Williams – “I’m a rolling stone, all alone and lost/ For a life of sin, I’ve paid the cost….” That seemed about right.

To start day 3 I was well behind my intended pace and was up and walking – or rather, thrashing – by 6. Scraps of trail appeared, giving me hope that the worst was behind me. They invariably ended in impenetrable thickets after a few hundred feet. I came to the bail-out point after a couple hours. I could see the old jeep road on the canyon wall above, but there was no obvious way to get to it. The canyon was not going to let me go without a fight. But after scrambling up a hundred yards of steep decaying red sandstone talus I finally tossed my hiking poles up and on to the old road. I was free of the canyon’s clutches.

I was finally able to link consecutive steps together and actually walk, even if the walk was a steep climb. I topped out on the plateau and began a pleasant walk on ranch roads that wind around the heads of various canyons, passing through classic pinyon-juniper country. Views of the western ranges abounded: the Grand Mesa directly across the Gunnison, the West Elks to the east, the Grenadiers to the south. It felt good to stretch my legs on an open trail and cast my gaze to distant ranges. Canyon country has its charms, but feels confining after a day or two. Give me a ridgewalk any day.

A Last Afternoon, Evening, and the Hike Out

I neared the head of Big Dominguez Canyon and began seeing ATVs filled with hunters out scouting the area. I took my afternoon break at the campground, and then hiked down the well-maintained trail into the canyon. Big D canyon also had an iced-over marsh, one that proved impossible to photograph with the sun low behind it. I continued along the trail, which mostly rides on benches above the stream. Coming to a wide flat spot with good views of the canyon walls, I decided to call it a day.

On the last day the trail continued and was easy to follow down the canyon. Its width allowed the sun to hit me much earlier in the morning, making for ideal walking temperatures. After a few miles I came to the first of the petroglyphs that are the star attraction of the canyon. The figures on horseback suggest that they are not more than 300 years old, when horses first made their way to these lands. Beside them were some cowboy inscriptions, dated to 150 years ago. Some abandoned mining equipment is a little further down the trail, probably less than 100 years old.

Questions of the difference between what defines historic artifacts, art, and so on occupied my thoughts – it seems age and strangeness perhaps both play some role. The minds and motives of the Ute artists are obscure to me; that of the miners and cowboys somewhat less so. What role does mystery in and of itself play? I ended my ruminations and scurried the remaining miles down the canyon, hoping to get to Grand Junction in time for lunch with my cousin. I stepped through the sun-filled canyon, eyes up on its amphitheaters and pillars, crossed the river and walked from my lost highway back to civilization.

Need to Know

Information

The lower few miles of Big and Little Dominguez Canyons are designated for day use only, no overnight camping. Water in the canyons is usually reliable, but is salty and as I found out, may cause some digestive distress. There are a few cow ponds on the plateau that may or may not hold water and what I found was barely palatable. For either source additional water treatment and processing may be on the agenda for a next trip to the area.

Best Time to Go

Best times to go generally are April-June and September-November. Hunting is popular in the area during the fall season. Most of the plateau roads are closed to all vehicles December-April.

Getting There

The Dominguez Canyon Wilderness is most-easily accessed from the Bridgeport Trailhead. From Grand Junction, drive approximately 20 miles southeast on US50 East. Turn right at Bridgeport Rd and follow it 5 miles to the parking area near the Gunnison River.

Maps and Books

The Trails Illustrated Uncompahgre Plateau North map 147 covers the Dominguez-Escalante National Conservation Area. This map is good for navigating roads and terrain, but be aware that in this area and in my experience, trails marked on maps may not exist on the ground and other trails may not exist on the map. For getting to and from the area and exploring other destinations in the state, the Delorme Colorado Atlas & Gazetteer and / or the Benchmark Colorado Atlas can be useful. Further mapping is provided for areas close by on the Trails Illustrated 146 map. There is also an Uncompahgre National Forest map available.

Editor's Note: This article by Drew "HappyHour" Smith originally appeared in Issue 45 of TrailGroove Magazine. You can read the original article here for additional photos and content.