Here's a day-by-day commentary on our White Rim experience. You can return to the White Rim picture index for the complementary photos.
After our third trip to the Texaco at the intersection of 191 and 313 we were ready to head to the Island in the Sky Visitor Center. Fill up on water at the Texaco because there is no water available at the Island Visitor Center.
Sunny, cool and breezy to start. Steve C. drives the sag wagon to the base of the Horsethief Trail switchbacks. More uphill on the pavement than I expected. Mike P. and Steve G. take a left one turn too soon and Mike G. and Terry ride up to meet them coming down the road. The dirt road is a little wet in spots, potholes have water in them and there are some dried tracks in what was recently mud. Big, wide-open views as the group heads down the gradually sloping road.
We meet Steve C. at the top of the Horsethief Trail switchbacks, which he's just climbed. The whole gang goes the edge of the first switchback to check out the drop to the Green. Henry's Blazer is pretty small in the distance. A few turns down we stop to check out the remains of three wrecked cars. A little sobering at first, but Henry points out that they were probably crashed here on purpose just for fun. A quick blast down and everyone is at the Blazer. Steve C., Terry and Steve G. decide to climb the switchbacks. Mike G. drives the sag wagon while Henry and Mike P. ride towards Labyrinth Camp. Henry slices his tire and tube a couple miles short of camp and swaps driving for riding with Mike G.
Everybody makes it to camp and we get setup in Labryinth Camp B right next to the slowly moving Green River. Labyrinth Camp B is an exposed site about 50 feet above the river. The surface is dirt and rock flakes that would be great skipping stones if we were a little closer to the river. We peer over the ledge and decide that bushwacking through the jungle of tamarisk (salt cedar) and shrubs below isn't worth dipping our toes in the Green. Lay out the wet tents, bags and bivvy sack from the night before, have lunch and get ready to hike.
About 4:00 pm and we finally head off for the hike to Upheaval Dome. We ride about a mile to the trailhead, lock our bikes behind some big, downed trees and head up the wash. The trail alternates between following the wash directly and crossing the many small islands of sand that are a foot or two above the wash. Eventually the trail settles down into the wash and the walls narrow to create an easily-followed corridor. The wash is full of rocks of every color, bits of wood washed down from above (including a fence post w/rusty barbed wire) and even an set of what look like bobcat tracks.
At the 3.5 mile point we encounter the main Upheaval Dome loop. It's 5:30 and everyone but Mike G. decides to head back to camp. I took the right track since it was the shorter of the two trails leading around the dome--3.5 miles vs. 4.5 miles to the left. The trail followed the wash another mile or so and then started to climb up and to the left, up the Upheaval Dome itself (?). Soon the ascent turned steep and went directly up a rock fall of jumbled boulders. The route is fairly well marked with cairns although it gets tricky at times. I decide to go for the whole loop and start moving faster. Once I reach the top of the climb I tighten my pack straps, buckle the strap around my middle and start jogging.
My run takes me through a rich bowl of Pinon Pine and Juniper complete with birds racing through the underbrush. The first I've heard so far? The trail is pretty flat and easy to follow. I encounter a group walking the other way and decide the parking lot can't be far. Sure enough another half mile leads me to civilization and the head of the Syncline Trail.
The Syncline Trail starts out smooth and fast and I make good time. It turns down some washes with stone walls and sandy bottoms. So far so good, maybe I'll even get back before dark. The canyone widens and the descent gets steeper. I'm starting to scramble more than run. The clouds, present most of the afternoon start dropping a fine mist which feels good. I keep scrambling and things start to get slick. Then the drops get bigger and I look for shelter. An overhang provides a nice spot to stay dry and eat some gorp (Planters cocktail peanuts and M&Ms). The real rain lasts only about 10 minutes. I toss my pack on and starting running again.
Canyon is almost all rock by now and I'm hopping down stone stairs and cutting back and forth across the wash, ducking under tree branches and having a pretty good time. But, it's getting darker and I'm having a hard time finding the next cairn. I look left and end up facing a sloping rock shoulder that tapers off to...a hundred feet or so down. "Houston, we have a problem." Hmmm, the trail hasn't asked me to take any risks so far, maybe I'd better retrace my steps and look around some more. Finally, there it is--a cairn across the wash and partway up the other side. Back in business. Going down in a hurry now, scrambling over boulders and working around a few ledges that are a little narrow for comfort. A cable anchored to the wall, interesting but can I trust it? I decide not to and use the rock to slide by and scramble the rest of the way down.
Glad to be down and nearly home free I start running again. The sandy trail winds through bushes and around trees, then hits a T intersection. The main trail goes right but the left trail looks well-traveled too. I decide to check it out and am not disappointed. Above me looms an arch-in-the-forming, looking as much like a cave mouth as anything. Also looks like a spot to check for petroglyphs. I scramble up the loose bank and peek over the rim of the cave. Turns out to be wider than it is deep, wet, with moss growing on the walls and water trickling down the back. I snap a couple pictures and take off running again, hoping to reach the main trail before my buddies in camp waste too much time looking for me.
More running and then a park service sign--Syncline Camp. Wow, a long way back to camp, but a cool spot once you get there. I go on by and follow the cairns over the edge of a small cliff and find stone stairs to take me to the floor of the wash. Back to running and finally the sign that signals the beginning of the loop appears ahead of me. At least the guys haven't gotten past me on their search. Time to boogie down the wash and see if I can get out in the light.
Nope. Darkness closes in and I struggle to stay in the wash. There's no chance of using the winding trail we followed in so I decide to heed Terry's advice and stick with the wash. My eyes strain for any sign of light--a headlamp or flashlight from my crew. Don't want them to go up the canyon past me while I'm way off trail down in this wash. No lights so I keep stumbling along. Small piles of rocks and bushes are found by experimentation, there's no moon and my eyes have cranked as far down as they can go in the darkness.
Big stumble and my feet hit something hard. A trail? Then another trail right next to the first. Hey--the road! So following the wash worked after all. I turn right and head towards camp. Keeping an eye out to my right for any sign of the trailhead and my bike, but no luck. The going is easy and I soon see the lights of camp. Helloooo! Lights probe the darkness in my direction and fasten on me. Two lights leave the camp and come rolling my way and escort me back into the fellowship of the Labyrinth Camp.
Turns out Terry and Steve C. looked for me around dark and made numerous trips to and from the trailhead shuttling bikes. Henry made it back to camp just in time to toss our camp gear into tents and the truck and out of the rain. After darkness fell the general consensus was "Mike is a big boy and he'll be fine." The gang expected me to either walk out or just bed down for the night. I was glad to get to spend the night in my bivvy sack rather than in my space blanket, and glad not to have caused the rest of the gang any more trouble than I did. Great hike to start around 1:00 in the afternoon...
Up at daybreak because of my bivvy outpost I decide to walk down the road and retrieve my bike. Still there, so I escape the previous day's adventure nearly unscathed (sore left ankle). Turns out the wash brought me out just 20 feet away from my bike, but on the camp side of the trailhead so I hadn't even gone past my bike in the dark.
Day 2 riding starts early--8:00 am (some say 20 til 8:00 but that's a matter of interpretation) on our bikes and headed up Taylor Canyon to visit Zeus and Moses. This is the earliest I've been on my bike in any trip to the Moab area. Henry can get a group going and leading by example seems the surest approach with this group.
The riding is pretty flat and the sand is mostly firm after the rain of the last few days. We wind our way up the wash, occasionally jumping out onto fast, rock-studded double-track. In no time the lead riders roll past Taylor Camp, a great-looking, remote camp site that might be an attractive option to Labyrinth the next time around.
About five miles in we hit the beginning of the hiking trail that leads to Zeus and Moses. The towers are about a half mile away and very impressive. We decide that Zeus looks like he has a flowing beard and Moses looks for all the world like Charlton Heston. Henry remarks that this set of canyons reminds him of Monument Valley, without all the people. Definitely worth further investigation some day.
Back to camp, pack up after finding what the wind has re-arranged and hit the trail with Steve G. driving. An easy spin down the road, through Upheaval Bottom and past Hardscrabble Bottom leads to the trail's first big climb. Everybody into low gears and let the spinning begin. Great views back to the Green emerge as we gain altitude. Once at the top we can see back to the Labyrinth area and ahead towards Potato Bottom. We decide to skip the hike down to Fort Bottom since we have a planned stop at Holeman Slot. (Although we talked later with some people who said the walk down to Fort Bottom was worth it.)
Not to be outdone, the descent is steeper and more technical than the climb we just finished. We bomb down and wait to see if the sag wagon has any trouble. Steve G. does fine (other than the permanent indentions he leaves in the Blazer's steering wheel) and to our surprise we discover that the ever-present wind is now a tailwind. We fly across Potato Bottom with barely enough time to read the signs. Can't hurt the 'ol average speed any.
At about mile 38 Henry notes the emergence of the White Rim layer, our companion for most of the remaining 60+ miles. About five miles further and we are at Holeman Slot--lunch and exploration time. Off with the bike shoes and on with sneakers all around, we descend into the slot next to the road. The drop-in is easy but we are immediately confronted with a water-filled pothole obstacle. Henry easily clears the pothole but Mike G. and others aren't so fortunate (good thing the slot's walls weren't any wider or Mike's split move might've proven fatal ;-). Maybe another five obstacles further and we encounter a drop-in that gives Henry pause. Henry has a lot of climbing and mountaineering experience, so when Henry pauses everybody pauses. After much pondering we decide there's too much trail ahead to risk a problem here. Everybody out of the slot and up top for a look. Turns out the slot continues on quite a ways beyond where we stopped and looks pretty navigable. Maybe next time...with a rope.
Back on the bikes and time for the last push of the day--on to Murphy Hogback. But first, an off-bike exploration of Black Crack at mile 48.5. Black Crack was one of the most impressive features we investigated, even though there wasn't even a sign on the road to mark its presence. Look for a long, dark, two-foot wide crack running parallel to the canyon's rim. We debated what might've caused this crack, but basically it looks like a huge chunk of the White Rim lurched forward and has begun a slow tilt into the valley below. The crack varies from six inches across to as much as three feet. The wider sections reveal a crack that seems to be as deep as the White Rim layer is thick. On the rim end the crack splits into a series of parallel fissures. On the landward end the crack disappears beneath the sand with nothing but an anthill to mark it's passage. Hey maybe the ants made the crack... Peer down into the crack long enough for your eyes to adjust and you'll see mammoth sheets of rock peeling off the inner faces, some still attached at points. Amazing stuff.
We knew there was elevation to be gained and a double-diamond climb to get us there. The climb to Murphy Camp started out pretty easily but turned on us as it hooked a hard left and started climbing in earnest. Fortunately the surface is pretty solid and the trail flattens periodically to let riders suck down a little oxygen. The last grunt is a series of three or four steep ramps with a hewn cliff face on the right and huge canyon views to the left. Keep some weight over the front wheel on the last steep climb or you'll end up viewing the sky through the spokes of your overturned bike. (Right Steve G.?)
Murphy Camp was fantastic. The wind dropped down to reasonable levels and the camp itself was huge and provided over-the-top vistas back towards Potato Bottom and the Green. The cliff next to the final ramp was a magnet for our group, with first one, then two, then the whole gang over there hanging feet over the edge and just contemplating Canyonlands.
Most of the group went on a short hike but I stayed behind to rest my sore ankle for the next day and just enjoy the solitude. I setup a chair where I couldn't see anything man-made and watched the sun paint the canyons red as it went down. There is something to be said for quiet, and there is precious little of it in our everyday lives. Set aside some time to do nothing but hang out while on the White Rim and you won't regret it.
Great chicken and rice dinner courtesy of Henry and Steve C., a (very) little Scotch courtesy of Terry and it was off to bed to escape the wind. The wind--that was the defining feature for Murphy Camp from sundown until we left the following morning. I finally had to zipper up my bivvy sack to keep the sand out, more or less.
Dawn broke cold and grey with clouds from horizon-to-horizon and a chill wind pounding us from the north. We barely bothered with breakfast before hastily packing up, bundling up and dropping over the north edge of the Murphy Hogback in search of some shelter. Mike P. took sag duty.
But as would happen throughout the trip we somehow caught a break from nature. The winds, frigid and stiff on top of the hogback eased as we flew down the descent and coasted out onto the rim. Maybe day 3 wasn't going to be a death march after all.
The first side trip of the day was to White Crack. There was some group discussion about whether to ride out to the White Crack camp or just keep riding. In the end Steve C. and Steve G. decided to press on with the main trail while Henry, Terry and Mike G. rode and Mike P. drove out to the camp. This was the last we'd see of the two Steves for over a day.
The ride out was quick with a nice little downhill followed by a sandy uphill and finally some rocky hard pack out to the White Crack parking lot. Everybody got on their scrambling shoes and we headed off one what appeared to be the most-travelled trail towards the rim. After we got out on the slickrock we were less sure which way to go. There were splits and cracks all over the place and we weren't sure which was the The One we were seeking. We decided to go all the way out to the rim and had fun checking out the numerous water-filled potholes along the way. If we were dying of thirst we could definitely have re-stocked our water supply here, at least this year. (In general the park service prefers you not to take water from potholes because this is a valuable source of water for local animals and people can also pollute the potholes to the point where the creatures living in them can't survive.)
We pretty much hiked all over the place without being certain we'd ever found White Crack. In the end we got as far out on the rim as we could and sat down to enjoy the views. It was still windy but not terribly cold once we were out of the wind.
August 29, 2000: More to come when I get a little more writing time...White Crack, Steve & Steve, Gooseberry hike with Henry, Airport camp.
The prodigals return!