Listen to "Three Little Birds" by Bob Marley and the Wailers, there is nothing better than listening to this while cross countrying across canyonlands, while fueled almost exclusively on fritos and coffee, you should try it sometime.
One April 8th I did 19.9 miles and camped alongside Butler Wash. On April 9th I did 21.5 miles to the top of Fable Valley Tributary. On April 10th I did 16.2 miles to the base of Sundance Trail. On April 11th I did 21.2 miles to Rock Canyon Wash. On April 12th I did 21 miles to Poison Spring Canyon. On April 13th I did 10.1 miles to HWY 95 and hitched into Hanksville.
I have been following foot prints for a few days now, I could tell I was catching up to the person by how fresh they were looking when I finally ran into them in Indian Creek, we were both startled by each others presence since we hadn't seen another hiker the entire time. We linked up for the day as we made our way out of the canyons and cross-countried towards Needles. The hikers name is Ben and this is his first thru hike! I'm absolutely floored that he would attempt the Hayduke as his first trail as I am pulling from all of my experience just to survive the first week. It should probably come as no shock that he is 25 years old and full of enthusiasm and energy.... but still I'm in disbelief. It was nice to have someone to chat with during the hike and made lowering off ledges easier since we could hand each other our packs. We made it into Needles Outpost before they closed to pick up a resupply. The outpost is 6 miles (12 miles round trip) off trail but the only good way to resupply after Moab. Haydukers used to be able to resupply at Hite Marina further down the trail but since Lake Powell is at record low levels (my understanding is that it's never been this low since the dam was built) they closed the marina. Unfortunately Ben had some logistics he had to take care of which was going to keep him off trail for a few days so I pushed out by myself. The outpost was everything I needed, they had my resupply package, outlets to charge, and ginger ale... thats actually all I need in life right now.
While entering the needles section of Canyonlands NP I was carrying my worst nightmare, 8 liters of water (it was supposed to be 10 liters but one of my pouches burst) and 7 days of food which is about 35 extra pounds of provisions in my pack, all while I am trying to navigate the backcountry. There isn't much I can do about it, water is super scarce right now and the terrain is very intimidating so I just have to shoulder a heavier load and after looking over the maps some more in the tent I think this is going to be normal for this trail. When I came to terms with the fact that a heavy load isn't going to be sporadic but normal, the pack started to feel a little lighter (unfortunately I didn't move any faster).
I have sooo much to learn out here and I will only have scratched the surface if I manage to complete this trail. One of the things I'm learning to hate are dry falls, which I'm not sure if it's an ironic choice of words meant to be snarky or not, but they are literally dry waterfalls (atleast 95% of the time). Walking through a meandering canyon is pretty straightforward, as long as you don't accidentally take a side canyon (I have done this multiple times already), dryfalls represent a serious challenge to travel since some are as short as 10 feet and some are way over 100 feet high. They represent a real puzzle: do you go around left, or right? Should you have started the bypass much sooner for a better route? Should you just climb the damn thing? Should i just sit down and listen to some reggae to calm myself down? These are all good questions.
After making my way across an area known as Beef Basin I was able to locate a spring. You know a place named beef basin is going to have cows, and you know cows are going to shit in the water source, but I didn't care since its nothing a few drops of bleach cannot fix. I sat down for lunch next to a few cow pies, eating my dehydrated hummus, drinking my shitty water and thought...man im so glad I'm not at work right now.
The next day was an intense day full of 1 MPH hiking, a lot of type 2 fun and maybe just a little low class 5 (because I was off route obviously). I dropped into Youngs Canyon and then had to immediately take a detour back out of the canyon to avoid a 150' dryfall, the detour took me down a scree field and near a giant spire before putting me back onto the canyon floor. This was by far the biggest canyon yet which then merged with Dark Canyon. I followed Dark Canyon for about 7 miles, criss crossing (the cow free) river while staring at the 1300' walls that surrounded me. I took so many pictures but none of them do any justice. I escaped the canyon via the Sundance Trail (which was as hard of a climb as any pass on the Sierra High Route) as I once again went cross country to make my way towards highway 95 to cross the CO River just past the Hite Marina.
On my way to the bridge over the Colorado River, I Yogied some water from a car on the highway. I needed 8 liters of water to make it to Hanskville and it was going to be a 5 mile detour just to get water so I was feeling pretty great that I just saved myself 5 miles of walking. After crossing the CO river I made my way to Hatch Canyon. It was a short canyon followed by a technical escape that would put me onto of a giant mesa for 7 miles. The winds were howling down in the canyon and the last weather report I had said gusts were 60 MPH so I opted to call the day early and stay in Hatch Canyon to be better protected from the weather front. I picked a campsite between some rocks and tried to set up camp. I fought with the tent and the surrounding area for 45 minutes before giving up because my tent kept blowing away like a ballon no matter what I did. The wind had now started to seriously roar in the canyon and I just lost my early finish and was also losing light. I put my head down to keep all of the windblown debris from hitting my face and retreated down the canyon looking for better cover. I couldn't find anything after backtracking a mile and it was now dark and the wind was reminiscent of a Mount Washington summit. I managed to find a small drainage that offered some protection from the gusts. I hastily set up a cowboy camp since I was on slickrock and couldn't stake anything. I layed down to sleep for a few minutes and all hell broke loose. The wind picked up even more and it honestly sounded like a freight train was driving over me I hunkered down even further into my sleeping bag when I saw the ominous flashes of light in the sky right before the skies opened up. ."You've got to be kidding me" and a lot of 4 letter words were yelled out. I grabbed my tent fly and tried to jerry rig some cover but the wind would just fling it aside. The sky just started to dump hail, then rain, then snow then hail again it was unrelenting. I had to keep my sleeping bag dry (my actual worse fear is being soaking wet in subfreezing conditions). I managed to use my poles and pack to make a makeshift bivy that the wind was trying to pull away into the dark sky. I had to hold onto the rain fly the entire night in order for it work. Everytime I started to let go of the tent just a little bit a big gust would come by and try and blow it open. I sat all night awake, waiting for daylight so I could hike to keep warm. I waited inside my little cocoon completely braced with my headlamp on to keep my other senses alert until the sun came up. Some how I miraculously was able to keep my sleeping bag mostly dry. As the sun came up I quickly packed up the rest of my gear which was sopping wet and started to move. The rain/hail/sleet eventually stopped but the wind never let me forget it was there. I crossed the snowy mesa and made a steep decent into Fiddler Cove Canyon when the sun finally came out. I was so relieved
I Iayed down and took a nap.... and then got sunburned... still better than being at work.
