As I approach a place as remote as Grand Staircase-Escalante in the middle of a hot summer I know I'm not going to find something tangible that I require to continue existing. I will, however, encounter some things that I want. Beauty, solitude, adventure. Maybe I'll find inspiration. Challenge. Do I need any of those things? Perhaps not, but what a dull existence it would be without all of them. My use of the word remote is not an exaggeration. This is a remote place, in a remote section of a sparsely populated region. That's a mouthful...let that sink in for a minute. There are 2,933 square miles of the monument, and the two nearest towns contain less than 1000 permanent residents combined. To put it in perspective, that's nearly as large as Delaware and Rhode Island put together, with considerably less than 1% of the population.

This monument is quite new in the grand scheme of things, which means it's vastly under-developed when compared to some of the long-established national parks or monuments. That means a lot more opportunity for adventure. Depending on your point of view, being so remote can offer both pros and cons. The area is loaded with slot canyons formed by violent busts of flood water carving out the hard desert stone. They are some of the most fascinating and beautiful places to explore. Escalante offers some canyons that are easy to access and traverse, and some that require professional canyoneer guides to locate and navigate.

Hiking Wolverine Canyon

This article will focus on a lesser-known hike: Wolverine Canyon. In my experience, I have found Wolverine to be fairly straightforward and less extreme than some other Utah canyon hikes. On the hike described in this article through Wolverine, I was mostly concerned about storms and heat. This hike can provide a peaceful, fascinating, and beautiful environment to spend the better part of a day. This is certainly a quiet hike, too. If you go in a less-popular season as I did, you'll likely have absolute solitude on a trail like this. After leaving the main road out of Boulder, Utah, I did not see a single person. No trucks on the road, no hiker’s vehicles in the parking area, no backpackers...not even livestock! There hadn't been an entry in the trail log for two days.

With all the elements that make slot canyons so appealing to adventurers, I know weather is always a factor. I like to speak with a ranger at the BLM office in Escalante before heading out to get more info regarding the potential for rain over the area I'm interested in hiking, and to get up to date info on road conditions. Unexpected floods turn violent in a hurry down here, carrying rocks, trees, sand, dirt, and anything else in their path. Unfortunately, there's no shortage of horror stories of those folks who ended up at the wrong place at the wrong time. While one could potentially get to this location in a car, knowing that the roads can wash out or turn very slick after rains, my drive to the trailhead is in a 4WD.

My hike begins at a fenced entrance near a pull-off from the dirt road. It's open desert here with almost no opportunity for shade, so I bring as much water as I can carry, sunscreen, and a wide-brimmed hat. Shortly after beginning the hike, evidence of the cattle grazing is displayed, often in the form of sun-bleached bones of the less-fortunate livestock. I noticed several morbid trail cairns in the form of vertebra, jawbones, and other skeletal remains. Desert culture, I suppose, but it serves as a reminder to respect the land, that's for certain. Like all canyon hikes, the route is likely to flank or use a wash as the path. This trail is no exception. In this case, it criss-crosses a wash many times until entering the canyon proper. After about a mile, remnants of an ancient forest make themselves apparent in the form of huge petrified logs. And I do mean huge! Some of them are up to 20 feet in length, with a 5 or 6 foot circumference.

Wolverine Canyon is actually home to the largest collection of petrified wood outside of Arizona's Petrified Forest. Leave them where you find them, though...it's illegal to take them with you. I must say, I thoroughly enjoyed unleashing my imagination around these ancient relics. They're around 225 million years old. To my mind, that's pretty much incomprehensible in any practical way. Where there is now desert, there was once a swampy forest, and this is all that remains. What kind of creatures made these trees their home? What sort of beasts sharpened their claws on the bark? It's fascinating to think about, especially while walking among tangible evidence.

As though the petrified forest wasn't enough, I felt as though I were transported millions of years back in time as soon as I reached the canyon proper. It's pure, raw earth here. Boulders larger than full-size pickup trucks tossed from the red cliffs dominate the periphery. I wondered how often these fall, and how spectacular it would be to witness it happening. Well, it would only be ideal if you're not in its path, of course. In some places, it looks as though it happened a few days ago. As though someone strapped TNT to the upper canyon walls and just blasted it all away. There's little apparent erosion like one may find in a wash or creek bed, just giant red squares and rectangles strewn about. Underfoot, the amount of petrified wood has remained significant. Large logs weighing several hundred pounds can be seen all throughout this hike, which is a reminder of the astounding power of floodwater. I struggled mightily to hoist a small section of log, but these temporary rivers are capable of tossing them around like rag dolls. Another mortality reminder, for sure.

Deeper in the canyon, the walls gain height while losing width. Not in an intimidating way, but certainly noticeable. It's never narrow enough to earn the slot canyon designation. A tank could likely be squeezed through the majority of it, so there's no scrambling, squeezing, or claustrophobic nightmares here. Another feature that introduces itself rather dramatically are the 'amphitheaters'. Found at curves in the river's path, these overhangs loom above the trail and help create some interesting acoustics for the singing traveler. They are carved out by the brute force of floodwaters over time, which is another mind-boggling feat to ponder on this quiet hike. Pressing on further, the canyon walls seem to vary wildly turn after turn. Some are flat, with multi-hued streaks running vertically, as though they were hewn by an ax-wielding giant. One swift, clean cut.

Others are craggy and porous like a giant red coral reef. Much like the oceanic reefs, some critters find refuge in these pocked walls. Tiny lizards scurry along the facades as though they're defying gravity. Birds claim some of the lofty miniature caves for their nests, high above the flood waters that will arrive with the monsoons of late summer and autumn. What a view they must have! Some walls in particular stand out. Rounding another shaded bend about halfway into the hike, an intricate pattern was proudly displayed about 30 feet up an orange canyon wall. It seemed to have an eye-like quality to it, and I didn't notice any other similar patterns in the canyon. The explanations for these observations can be left for the geologists, but the diversity of texture and color in a single canyon is quite fascinating.

Approaching the last section of the canyon, the walls squeeze to their most narrow about a mile or so short of the terminus. Again, not quite slot canyon narrow, but enough to be obvious. There are still large pieces of petrified wood, and they aid in making this one of the more beautiful and colorful sections of the canyon. Soon, the walls open up to a wide gap again before its confluence with Horse Canyon. There's a great opportunity for a loop hike here. My schedule didn't permit my attempt so I can't detail it, but it looks pretty appealing. If you hang a left at Horse Canyon, you will meet with Little Death Hollow after a short while, which can eventually be looped back to the parking area. Rangers would likely have more information. Apparently backpackers may encounter difficulty squeezing their packs through the narrows of Little Death Hollow.

Even though I only planned on doing the 10 mile round-tripper, I brought more than a gallon of water. 100 ounces of that was in an insulated Camelbak and loaded with ice cubes at the onset of the hike. It was still fairly cold at the end of the day, which was quite a nice luxury. I also had a handheld breadcrumb-style GPS unit, which isn't much use in the canyon, but was helpful when trying to trace my steps in a place where the trail isn't always apparent. An emergency GPS beacon was also in my pack. In a place like this, I was worried about even a twisted ankle and the peace of mind was worth the weight. Peace of mind lifts the metaphorical weight off your shoulders anyway, right?

Back to the Trailhead

Speaking of taking weight off my shoulders, it was now time to turn around and head back to the truck. This was also my last day in Escalante, so I made sure to take my time and soak in as much of this desert as possible. As flat and 'easy' as this hike is supposed to be, the heat had finally got to me. Though I only had 1.5 miles remaining, the fact that it had been 97 in the shade for most of the day had taken its mental and physical toll. Our local star had relented and slipped behind the canyon walls. The rock and sand had soaked up all those rays though, and they were still spitting heat and cooking my feet. Though I had plenty of water left, it was hot.

I knew I had to take it easy the rest of the way. After plodding along in the waning light with several long breaks, I beheld the mercy I sought: My trusty Nissan, complete with an ice filled cooler in the back. Thankfully, the two bricks of ice stood up to the heat. I stuck my head under the cooler's drain spigot and let the melt water cool the rest of me off. These are the moments that make hiking in the heat worth the trouble. That relief...there's nothing quite as satisfying. It feels like victory.

Information

Getting There

From Boulder, Utah, take the Burr Trail Road (100) east to the Wolverine Loop Road (110). Continue along the Wolverine Loop approximately 11 miles to the signed trailhead parking area.

Maps

Canyons of the Escalante Grand Staircase-Escalante NM National Geographic Trails Illustrated map. For getting to and from the trailhead an atlas like the Utah Delorme Atlas & Gazetteer can be useful.

Books

Hiking Grand Staircase-Escalante & the Glen Canyon Region (A Guide to the Best Hiking Adventures in Southern Utah).

All images in this article Copyright © Sean Sparbanie.

Editor's Note: This article by contributor Sean Sparbanie originally appeared in Issue 19 of TrailGroove Magazine. You can read the original article here for additional photos and content.