We have climbed to the top of a mountain in Bears Ears National Monument in southeastern Utah. We are sitting on the top edge of the Comb Ridge. We’ve been taking in the awe of the massive rock formations and its vistas from this peak.
There is no want to leave, but we must. Down slope, the five finger shoes engulf my toes, as my feet slide through toward the tip of the shoe. The feet are held back by the structure, stopped by the inner toe next to the ball of my foot, unlike a regular shoe. I will lose no toe nails. I’m grateful to have these expanding toes. A couple of miles of this would definitely take my toenails in any other shoes.
We’re in Bears Ears National Monument. I believe that we have found a remote and less used canyon etched into the Comb Ridge near the Lower Butler Wash Road. Arriving in the afternoon and scouting, we had been blasted by a massive dust storm into last night. It brought us cooler calmer weather this morning, quite peaceful in contrast. This morning, we’re heading up into the canyon to explore the rugged geological awe and search for evidence of an 800 to 1500 year old Native American lifestyle.
After finding our way out of the Valley of the Gods, we’re turning back onto the asphalt road. Before heading out into some hiking along the Comb Ridge, we need to visit another unknown, Bluff Utah. We’re hoping for gas and ice. It didn’t look like much on the satellite image. Again, we just don’t know what to expect in this region. We pass and nearly miss a turnoff onto a dirt road. Strikingly, this is the Lower Butler Wash Road, which is the main conveyance north along the east side of The Comb Ridge. It looks desolate, empty and the map shows that it goes for dozens of miles.
After Bluff, the plan is to double back and drive up this surprise, looking for hikes and solitude, in random canyons and whatever else that we encounter. My information tells of well-known canyons, cliff dwellings and petroglyphs in the area. I’m hoping to find the canyons less traveled, where I’m told surprising rich experiences abound. The plan is not a trek through such a bland looking desert!
As we slowdown from highway speed as per the signage, Bluff begins to unfold. Still, it doesn’t look like much. The outfitter store/pizza restaurant is regrettably closed, but there is a Bears Ears Visitor Center next door. Generally, my experience with visitor centers is to be simply channeled toward crowded tourist places to glean my money, a tool of manipulation of the local Chamber of Commerce. This information center looks small and the signage shows the support of other entities, preservation people. It is called “Bears Ears Education Center.” It somehow gives me the impression that it isn’t just a tourist trap. We decide to check that out on our way back. I still have a very muddy knowledge of how to find the solitude and freely nude experience that I’m looking for. I need more than books and a few tips from friends. I need local’s knowledge and experience.
This morning and the previous, have tended to train us to wake up with the sun, then emerge into excitement. Eventually, the wonder, sometimes surreal, that surrounds us, begins to teach.
This morning, while DF sits with a journal, I venture out for my latrine building duties. I find only a thin layer of red sand, just inches and the bedrock. I try a small indentation of a wash, hoping to find thicker soil that has built up around the bushes that are surviving there.
As I stated before, we always play our game of stepping to not disturb the delicate floor and flora. There are signs to caution humans to not trample the precious soil and biology, but here there is evidence of cattle grazing. In the distance, I can see them standing in the Monument. The cattle’s weight and hooves have destroyed way more than the simple paths that we may make. The effect of their prints can be seen. I follow a trail, an indentation paved with loose sand, made by them. They rip out plants that we walk around and admire. This plant life takes many years to root and then grow. The flora do this and flower with only a couple of opportunities each year. Even the lichen wait.
Today, the vegetation is almost all new, displaying a different green and blooming. All of this is rare.
What I know as a Mormon tea plant is different here, because of its stature and structures. Here, it also commonly grows in mass, as a dominate adaptation, unlike at home. A green ground-cover stretches out to the Gods and Goddesses. The iconic Monument Valley can still be seen on the horizon.
The soil is sand on rock. Here it has become particularly fluffy from when it rained and froze. We sink to our ankles where we walk off of the trails. It seems a shame to walk on it. It’s like freshly fallen snow, so beautiful, but you know that your tracks will change it forever. I’m feeling a bit guilty, as the black biology is protective and it will not be back until the moister meets it again, when conditions are just right.
This place is one of those places where morning brings contemplation.
Here, naked on a fallen boulder’s wide surface, I sit. At similar times, the world may seem to pass by. In this valley, it is evident that it is us that pass by this world.
The Free Range Naturist 