In 1943 and after years of fruitless political wrangling, President Franklin D. Roosevelt finally used his unilateral authority under the Antiquities Act to establish Jackson Hole National Monument. The state challenged the monument declaration in court. Ranchers drove cattle across the Monument in direct defiance of Federal authority. On one side, there were accusations about rich outsiders interfering in local matters. On the other side, conservationists launched a campaign to convince the public that the ecological and historical significance of the area should be forever preserved.

In 1950, all sides reached an uneasy compromise. The new National Monument, encompassing much of western Wyoming’s famed Jackson Hole, would be incorporated into the existing (but previously much smaller) Grand Teton National Park. In exchange, Congress would amend the Antiquities Act to curtail the President’s ability to designate future National Monuments in the state of Wyoming.

Nearly seventy years later, a similar drama played out in southeastern Utah. After years of fruitless political wrangling, outgoing president Barack Obama established the 1.3 million-acre Bears Ears National Monument at the request of five local tribes who consider the area sacred. The ultimate outcome for Bears Ears still remains to be seen. Continued partisan squabbling continues to rule the day. But let’s shift our focus. Politics and 115-year-old acts of Congress aside, let’s instead put the focus where it rightfully belongs – on the land itself. Let’s journey, as I do several times a year, to Bears Ears.

Backpacking in Bears Ears

On a chilly November’s day, we begin our hike on the expansive, flat-topped Cedar Mesa. Bears Ears is a place of huge views from horizon to horizon. It’s wild land on a large scale. The Monument’s borders don’t just include the famous Bears Ears buttes themselves, but a huge swath of landscape. We wander along a disused jeep road for a few miles, marveling at the cryptobiotic soil crust that’s started to make a comeback now that vehicles no longer roam here. We enjoy the rising sun illuminating the distant Mancos Mesa and the tips of the Bears Ears.

Soon enough, the old jeep road ends and we join one of the few maintained trails in the monument. Like most enduring projects, it was built by the Civilian Conservation Corps in the 30s. Young, underemployed men moved an inordinate amount of rock, scratching and blasting their way down into the canyon. Notwithstanding their efforts, the trail is still rugged and unmarked, but it’s infinitely easier than most approaches into this sprawling 70-mile canyon system. As we descend, our large-scale world is replaced by an intimate one. Below the rim, hidden alcoves and brush-choked side canyons replace the huge views.

Our minds drift back 700 years in time as we wander up-canyon in search of a campsite. The canyon is beautiful to be sure, but tough to eke out an existence in. Small pools and potholes are only as dependable as the recent rains. Algae often fouls the few perennial springs around here. Even modest agriculture seems unfathomable.

Yet, people lived here for centuries. It’s hard to go more than a mile or two in this great sprawling canyon without seeing evidence of Ancestral Puebloan presence. Enigmatic images (some notable and bold, others faint and hidden) are painted or etched onto smooth rock walls. Sooty cook fires, extinguished for more than seven centuries now, still stain the undersides of great sandstone alcoves. Granaries dot nearly-inaccessible ledges. Intrepid travelers can even spot a housing complex or ceremonial kivas – all from a respectful distance, of course. Nowadays, the gulch is a place of natural wonder and wildness. But it doesn’t take a particularly active historical imagination to see this canyon bustling with the goings-on of any society – agriculture, familial squabbles, religious contemplation, celebration of holidays and life landmarks, and even warfare from time to time.

For many years, it was believed that the ancients mysteriously disappeared around 1300 AD. But more up-to-date scholarship, congruent with the testimony of many oral traditions, suggests that the people didn’t disappear at all. They simply moved south and east, perhaps in search of a more hospitable climate. Human habitation in the Bears Ears region has always teetered on the edge of the abyss in one form of another. The ancients experienced numerous cycles of flourishing and collapse over the period of a few thousand years. In more recent times, resource utilization and extraction (causing additional controversy), be it grazing land or uranium/petroleum deposits, has continued the boom-and-bust cycle for many towns in the area. As the local climate continues to get warmer and drier, will drought once again cause the stagnation or even recession of civilization in this part of the world?

Such ruminations abruptly cease as the sun makes its departure behind the canyon rim. Even the dim and meager sunshine, shining low in the southern sky at this time of year, cast a feeble warmth over the landscape while it was up. As soon as it’s gone though, the temperature plummets. It’s time to eat and go to bed.

Dinner is a simple affair, cooked and eaten quickly as the cold settles in. I can only get through a couple chapters of a truly terrible paperback before bundling into bed. As usual, the sky is clear and the stars are bright. They’re conditions that would make any astronomer envious, but the only observatory around here is my downy sleeping bag, flopped out under a starry tapestry.

Not all is idyllic of course. The same harsh climate that the ancients contended with roars to life, driving strong winds down the canyon and stinging us with sand. The romanticism of a cowboy camp on a dark night has only yielded me watery eyes and more than a little grit in my teeth.

We’re warm enough overnight, but barely. The wind has a certain bite at this time of year. But just two months earlier, it was scorching hot. It’s hard to win in a land of extremes. Even now, locals contend with drought. A hundred head of cattle choke down meager vegetation and congregate around a handful of ramshackle-looking but meticulously-maintained waterworks. It still isn’t easy to scratch together a living in these parts. It’s little wonder that certain ranchers oppose any additional regulations, even though the Monument text preserves existing grazing leases.

We pack up quickly the next morning, skipping breakfast, and climb back up the way we came. On the mesa top, juniper trees pock the landscape. Far fewer Ancestral Puebloan sites are preserved up here, owing to the harsh climate. But some sites do remain, many of them fortifications designed to repel enemy attacks. In modern times, local tribes use the mesa tops for gathering firewood and foraging for other traditional plants. The native legacy of Bears Ears is not limited to the past; it continues right up to the present day. It’s no wonder that the tribes were the earliest, loudest, and most consistent voice calling for the protection of this vital area.

Reflecting on a Hike in Bears Ears

Back at the car, we reflect on the trip. It was a short one. But Bears Ears isn’t a place to crush miles. Bears Ears lends itself to wandering and quiet contemplation. It reveals its secrets not to the thru-hiker, but to the wanderer. It demands respect for both the ancient and modern inhabitants of this land. Explore the alcove tucked away in that dead-end canyon. Squint at the sandstone panel, and you might be able to make out a series of painted-on handprints. Observe the granaries and ruins from a respectful distance. Follow Leave No Trace principles assiduously. Revel in a place that’s wild, yes, but with a long and storied human history. Bears Ears is a marvel, if only you know where to look.

Need to Know

Information

Bears Ears National Monument protects a large swath of southeastern Utah. The monument lies south and east of the existing Canyonlands National Park. Unlike some other National Monuments, it doesn’t protect a particular terrain feature or archaeological site, but a large area of wild landscapes and dispersed sites. The monument was created partly in response to over a century of looting and vandalism at irreplaceable cultural and historic sites. Please visit with respect and Leave No Trace.

Best Time to Go

Summers can be very hot in Bears Ears, even at higher elevations, while winters often bring snow and ice. Spring and fall are typically great times to visit.

Getting There

The town of Moab is served by an airport with regularly-scheduled flights, mostly puddle-jumpers to Denver or Salt Lake City. As of 2022, Moab, Monticello, and Blanding are also served by daily bus service. Though, most trailheads in Bears Ears are located well off the beaten path and only accessible by private vehicle.

The Edge of the Cedars State Park & Museum in Blanding makes an excellent introduction to the area and is a fascinating way to spend an afternoon. Those wishing to explore the famous Cedar Mesa should stop by the Kane Gulch Ranger Station (staffed seasonally) to pick up a required dayhiking or overnight permit and learn about best practices for visiting ruins and cultural sites.

Books and Maps

Bears Ears is a rather new monument that’s been embroiled by shifting borders and political controversy from its inception. As such, not many resources are yet available. One solid, if modest, guidebook is Exploring Utah’s Bears Ears and Cedar Mesa, available from Falcon Guides. The book focuses mainly on day trips, but includes a few backpacks as well, and plenty of inspiration for creating one’s own, longer adventures. The book also places great emphasis on visiting the Monument with respect. Trails Illustrated Map # 706 covers most of the monument. For a big picture view and for getting to and from the trailhead, see the Delorme Utah Atlas & Gazetteer.

This story by Kevin DeVries, photos by Justin Swanson.

Editor's Note: This article originally appeared in Issue 53 of TrailGroove Magazine. You can read the original article here for additional photos and content.