A (Mostly) Sensible Hike on the Upper South Prong Trail

Sunrise is so flattering.

It reveals the real me, all long, lanky, and skinny under this extra padding.

From now on I'm only going out in public at dawn!!



To make up for two consecutive days of questionable choices, today's hike is an easy ramble up the Upper South Prong Canyon in Caprock Canyons State Park. The campsite is just behind me and my destination is out there at the far end of the canyon.

Well actually, in the interest of a reasonably comfortable evening tonight, the far end of the canyon is not really the destination but rather the halfway point since I do intend to come back to the shelter of The Van today. . .



It's a nice day. The light is good. And there's nobody else around.  (And y'all know how I hate to be alone. . . sarcasm . . .) Can't think of a better day for a hike.



Maybe not compared to the garish pages of graphic novels or the numbing intensity of gaming screens, but the colors are passionate out here this morning.

A variety of greens slashed through with a splash of blue and back-dropped by a cornucopia of reds and oranges

then punctuated once in a while with brilliant accents,

all framed and contained by millions of years of geologic process. It all practicality commands one to stop, breathe, admire, and reflect.



Of course when I say there's nobody else around I'm referring to the bipedal, opposable-thumbed variety of nobody.

In reality there's all kinds of things out here and I'm actually the odd-man (literally if my detractors are to be believed) out.




And some of those things out there are a bit startling!




As big as they are, these dang things are like ghosts, suddenly appearing out of nowhere. Silent and graceful despite their 1200 pounds and having twice as many legs as me, the only way to know when one is nearby is if it comes out of the concealing brush and into the open so I can see it. But only if I happen to be looking. (Tip of the day: If you can smell them with your highly inefficient human nose you are too damn close! Way too damn close!))

This particular one could be part of the group of three bulls that interrupted my hike up the Eagle Point Trail last year.

Since bison, even the bulls, are not solitary creatures it's a pretty good bet there's at least one more of these guys here somewhere, lurking un-see-able in the brush just waiting to scare the crap out of me.  (That evening there were at least two of them, probably including this one, down by where the road just outside the campground crosses the river.)



Eventually we each went on our own ways, but I'm pretty sure I was still being watched by many eyes.

From dudes hunkered down in their Mexican blankets with hats pulled down low,




to ladies in hoods and long dresses stirring up some concoction in shallow cauldrons.

OK. The plan was to stay down in the bottom of the canyon, but when I hit the base of the Extremely Steep and Rugged, which should have been my turnaround point, I didn't.  At least not right away.






As that upper arm of my GPS track over on the left side shows, when I hit the wall I kept going for a bit rather than do the sensible thing, you know, like turn around. . .

The safety of The Van is a couple hundred feet below and way out there under that far mist somewhere.

I don't rightly know why I didn't turn around.

I've climbed this trail before and decided then that going up was something I could do, if I had to, but coming back down that trail would take some serious pondering. (My sole people encounter on yesterday's hike was a young couple that came up this trail but would rather go around and miles out of their way than try to go back down it again.)

But - well - we've already established that I've got a bit of the Idiot in me.

The white roughly shows the route of the "trail" (I put it in quotes because it's more of a scramble than a trail.)

But today only a bit. (Of the Idiot)

You see that dark spot the arrow is pointing to?





That's this. Which I photographed from the uphill side when I came up this trail last year and couldn't believe that I actually got around it. (But first I used up the better part of a half hour thinking this was a joke and looking for the real trail. . .)

This is a hollow carved out of the rock wall by water.

If you look carefully, the down-mountain side of the trail approaches the hollow on that barely discernible ledge about two thirds the way up on the right edge of the photo.

It doesn't show well in the photo, but just under my feet as I took this photo is a 6 foot vertical wall down to the bottom of the hollow. A featureless six foot wall.

If you are hiking up-bound with others you can drop down into the far side of this hollow, carefully since it's a long ways down if you get too far over to the right!, and then help each other up the wall on this side.

If you are hiking alone you need to negotiate that ledge that wraps around the rim of the hollow.

Only the ledge is just a few inches wide, just barely the width of a knee, and the overhang above means that unless you are really short you have to take to the ledge on your hands and knees and hope your pack doesn't get snagged on the overhang.

Anyways - You see where the ledge starts  on the far side just above the big grey boulder? (That boulder that is conveniently tilted at just the right angle to throw you off the mountain!)

Today that's where I turned around.



Oh yeah.

On the way back down to sensible I photographed this spot, after sliding down the steep chute on my butt, because it contains all three of the major rock formations that ultimately formed the canyons around here.



Back down on the canyon floor I wasn't quite ready to head back to The Van just yet, so I went off-trail and followed the wash upriver for a bit.

Not very far because the western boundary of the park is nearby, but far enough.



The walking is easy along the bed of the river, at least when it hasn't been raining, but you are never far from reminders that bison are also wandering around in here too, confined by the same walls hemming you in and severely limiting your escape-routes.






This, located near my turn-around point, would be a great little lunch-table! Now if only I had a chair with me. . .