Tuesday, June 15, 2010

Our weekend didn't turn out as we'd planned.  We wanted to see some reportedly spectacular petroglyphs known as Shaman's Gallery that pre-date the pyramids of Egypt.  Because reaching them required a 60+ mile drive and a 4+ hour hike through challenging terrain, we decided to spend the night in Kanab to eliminate the 70-mile trip from the Kaibab Plateau.  The motel looked OK on-line but was a dump in reality.  At least the beds were comfortable and there was plenty of hot water for showers.

We got up at 5:45, choked down a bit of the motel's awful 'free breakfast', and set out on our expedition. Thirty miles down a rough gravel road we located the 'road' to the trailhead.  Its appearance, a mere dirt track through the desert, and the vagueness of the directions made proceeding seem foolhardy: If we had trouble, there was no help, no shade, no water, no cell phone reception, no people.  Instead of pressing on to the petroglyphs, we traveled the entire 61 miles down the gravel road to Toroweap. 

Although it hadn't been an easy drive when we did it in 2007, we were shocked at how badly the last nine miles of the road had deteriorated in the past three years.  Signs announce that it is unimproved, unmaintained, subject to flash flooding and wandering cattle.  Mention is not made of deep muddy ruts, sharp rocks, rocky obstacles, swirling dust, washboarding, etc.  The poor Jeep got the workout of its life.  It shook and shuttered and bumped and bounced so violently, I was surprised the numbers didn't fall off the license plate!

We arrived at Toroweap with mixed relief and dread--relief that we hadn't gotten stuck or punctured a tire; dread that we still had to face the return trip.  Although this visit lacked the breath-taking impact of our first, the stark beauty of this wild and remote place is breath-taking.  We wandered the rocky ledge, lay down to peer three-thousand feet straight down to the Colorado River and took lots of pictures.  Our picnic spot provided us a front row seat for watching rafters drift downstream toward Lava Falls, the highest and most dangerous of the river's length.

With no other option, we headed for asphalt, just 61 miles of gravel, ruts, rocks, dust and cattle guards away.  We were astounded when a large rental RV traveling toward the rim went by.   True, there is a campground out there; however, it offers nothing--no hook-ups, no water, no latrines.  Just a few miles ahead were conditions where good sense would counsel turning around.  But by that point, it would be impossible for a vehicle of that size and low-clearance.

We rejoiced at the sight of black hard-top and reveled in the fast, jolt-free trajectory of driving on a highway.  We did the grocery shopping, filled the gas tank and headed up the mountain to our RV home, physically and emotionally worn out from our time off. Although we were unsuccessful in seeing Shaman's Gallery this trip, we plan to return when we can accompany friends with another vehicle for safety backup.