Desert Daze - A Southwest Adventure (IX)

Part Nine: Exploring Planet Coyote North & The Wave

I am up and out of Hotel Truck well before dawn, excited about the prospects of the coming day. As it turns out, it’s a good thing I awoke early; navigating a dark, damp wash by headlamp beam, I miss the turnoff to Coyote Buttes at first, adding about two miles to my hike. I wouldn’t have stood a chance to make it in there for sunrise, as was my plan, without the extra early start.

Actually, it wouldn’t have been a bad thing if I had just kept going down this wash instead of turning around; I would have ended up in Buckskin Gulch. According to what I’ve read, Buckskin is the longest and deepest slot canyon in the entire Southwest, the canyon by which all other slot canyons are judged. I do want to explore it sometime for sure, but just not today.

Backtracking, I find the turnoff, easily missed by a single, narrow beam probing the dark, but now obvious in first light. After an uneventful mile or so of hiking, I climb up over a ridge and, Voila!, the otherworldly landscape of CB is revealed to me just as the sun’s corona peaks up over the horizon.

Perfect timing. In my estimation, there is nary a better place in the entire universe to be than here, now; from where I’m standing, fantastical formations are spread out before me as far as the eye can see. As if on cue, namesake coyotes again provide the soundtrack for a magic moment; I am privileged to hear their peculiar yelps, yips and yodels more often during this trip than all my other previous western adventures combined.

Now I again begin pushing one boot clad foot in front of the other over the rocky terrain. My feet feel heavy, as if they are encased in cement; I suddenly realize just how tired my legs are. This is the sixth straight day I'll be hiking at least eight miles – strenuous miles of ups and downs and clambers over rocks, ridges and ravines, all at relatively high elevations. Of course it’s my own fault that my feet are fading, not only do I choose challenging routes, but my unstoppable drive to explore often takes me off trail, adding miles to my original plan every time. The up side: I'll be in great shape by the end of this trip!

I also haven’t been drinking enough water. The high, dry desert, even in winter, sucks the moisture right out of your body; you don’t even realize you’re perspiring because your sweat is immediately wicked off your skin. Many people who move to arid places from wetter climes eventually form kidney stones due to constant dehydration; I once read that people are seven times more likely to develop kidney stones in the Southwest than in other parts of the country.

Intriguing formations abound along the route to The Wave, all calling out desperately to have me explore them, but I am one-focused. Actually, I am being selfish; I want The Wave all to myself for at least a little while and if I go straight there, I should be able to have some time alone before any of the other nineteen hikers show up. (Only twenty permits are issued to explore CB each day. By imposing this strictly-enforced limit, it is hoped that wear and tear will be kept to a minimum, sandstone is very fragile.)

Next: On to 'The Wave'