Trip Report: The La Sals

Peter, Mike, and I have been staring up at the La Sal mountains from the depths of canyons for years and we all knew we had to go there. When the opportunity arose, we decided to jump on it. (It also doesn’t hurt that there’s a bit of a slot canyon up there that we wanted to check out.) Peter had planned the route and together we found a beautiful spot to camp on the east side of the mountains. Our route would take us down Highway 141 through Gateway, Colorado.

This road is one of the most beautiful roads I’ve ever driven down. As you head south from Grand Junction and turn onto Highway 141, you start descending through the edge of Dominguez-Escalante National Conservation Area. After seeing the black and brown rock walls towering above the farmlands sprawled across the valley floor you then enter Gateway where everything changes. The walls turn bright red and you drive south following the Dolores River as it meanders through the red earth.

Following the Dolores River through the canyons en route to the La Sals.

On our way down we hit a snag in Glenwood Springs, there was an accident that shut down the highway and caused an hour and a half delay. We were already cutting it close for getting where we wanted to go before sunset and go explore but with that delay, we couldn’t really stop anywhere along the way to take photos or take in the scene. Right at sunset we finally say screw it and stopped for a minute on the pull-offs high above the Dolores River and Hanging Flumes.

For those of you who are like me and had no idea what a hanging flume is, it’s an open water chute that was built in the 1880s over the Dolores River by Montrose Placer Mining Company that helps facilitate gold mining. You can read more about it here. Some of the original flumes are still in place!

We couldn’t resist pulling over to take in the view.

As the light was fading pretty quickly, we headed towards a dirt road that was a “short cut” to our destination. By miles, it was shorter but would probably take a little longer to get to because, well, it’s a road in a canyon. We pulled up to a closed gate but saw another road that climbed up the canyon, as we drove up, we soon saw signs telling us not to touch anything as it was radioactive. It was at that point that we checked the map again and realized the closed gate was our road. Our back up adventure was a no go as it was too late in the day.

As the moon rose we could see all the detail on the mountains that surrounded us.

Taking a collective deep breath, we got back onto the pavement and took the less adventurous route up the mountains. The stars started to come out and the Milky Way was clearly visible in the moonless sky. As we drove up in the dark, we could tell it was going to be beautiful even though all we could see was what our headlights were illuminating. After going down the last little bit of rocky road that helps keep the rift raft out, we saw we were the only ones around.

Sitting around the campfire swapping stories and talking about what we were going to do the next day, the moon slowly came up illuminating the cirque of mountains around us. We were nestled right in, a creek nearby creating the only sound besides the crackling fire. Time was passing a bit more quickly than I realized as I looked down and saw it was 2 AM. My plan was to get up in 3 hours and shoot sunrise so I quickly crawled in my tent.

At 5 AM I opened my eyes to see dark clouds above us. As I looked out the door seeing the peaks covered in the clouds it started to sprinkle. I didn’t have my fly on at the time so I quickly got out of my tent and threw it over and crawled back inside. I looked out again about 30 minutes later and nothing had changed. My plan was to check again in a couple of minutes but I fell back asleep and woke up about 20 minutes after sunrise. Peter confirmed that it was absolutely stunning. He had woken up at the right time to look out and see the mountains glowing “in a shade of pink I’ve never seen,” and the clouds were glowing with beautiful pastels.

Heading towards the days adventures.

I told myself that this weekend I was going to shoot for just me, no focus on products or anything like that. But still, I was pretty mad at myself for falling back asleep and missing what would be the only interesting sunrise/sunset we had. It’s hard when you know you missed an incredible moment just because you were trying to close your eyes for a couple more minutes.

After I stopped beating myself up, we took off for Pleiades Canyon, the slot canyon that is up in the mountains. The canyon is carved out in a small section of Brumley Creek. The creek starts high above in the snowfields of Mount Tukuhnikivatz running down the mountains where it cascades down the rocks before slowly carving out a section of sandstone into a gorgeous slot.

Pulling up to the trailhead it gave us a great view of the expansive desert landscape that layout in front of us. We spent a few minutes looking out and pointing to familiar landmarks and areas. It was great to look down and see the areas we had explored but also seeing things that made us say “What is that?!”

Looking out at some of our favorite spots from above and finding new spots to explore.

The wildflowers on the trail were quite the treat, as were the high clouds.

As we got down into the creek, we noticed there was quite a bit of water flowing. We got to the first rappel which is over a waterfall, and we all got a bit uneasy. There was a lot of water flowing over those falls and the other 6 rappels are in more of a slot where it narrows up.

Making our way down to the first rappel.

None of us had done any swift water or flowing canyons like this and the amount of water made us feel like we may be in over our heads. Peter found a way down the falls to see if there was an exit, after a few minutes I saw him down below, we hollered at each other but were unable to communicate over the roar of the falls. Once Peter made it back up, we decided to rappel the first waterfall and then hike out from the exit he found below.

As we were assessing our options a group of 7 came up and started getting set up. Talking to them, some had run the canyon before as well as some other serious swift water canyons in Hawaii, they were fully aware of what they were getting into, and had the knowledge and experience to safely navigate this canyon. We watched them descend before we went down. Instead of going down the main falls which would have required us to put on our wet suits we found a small crack to go down to the side.

After we squeezed down Peter set up his tripod which is when I realized a big mistake on my part: I decided to leave my pack up above with all my camera gear. So, no photos for me, even my phone was up there. I can still see the picture I wanted to create but didn’t because I was being lazy.

The first rappel was flowing pretty swiftly.

We hiked down to the second rappel and watched the group ahead of us descend as a wave of jealousy came over me. I wanted to run this canyon, I know we made the right decision but still, I couldn’t help but wonder what we were missing out on. The feeling of not being tough enough started to creep in. I know it has nothing to do with toughness but more the fact of us not being comfortable with our skills in that situation. Needless to say, my feet were a little heavier on the way back to the car.

Mike going down through the crack to the side of the main falls that we found.

Driving back towards camp I couldn’t help but notice there were no clouds in the sky and sunset was approaching. I had sneaking suspicion that we were going to have a fairly boring sunset. As we bounced down the last bit of rocky road the hills were glowing, even without the clouds the warm colors across the landscape. Even though there weren’t any clouds, I was reminded that no evening is ever truly boring in the mountains.

Once we got to camp, I decided to race over to this giant scree hill to try and get a better view. The glowing colors I was hoping to see weren’t materializing, not only that but I was getting eaten alive by mosquitos. I called it quits earlier than normal and we all jumped into the car to avoid all the little blood-sucking devils flying through the air. Sitting in the car listening to podcasts and passing around a box of Cheez-Itz, we could see thousands of bugs trying to get in, passing gas in the car could prove quite an issue if someone needed to then roll down the window.

After about an hour and a half, we emerged from the vehicle to make some dinner and hoped the bugs had finally retreated for the evening. As Mike and Peter made dinner, I saw the Milky Way coming up and knew I had a short window to shoot it as it would soon go behind the mountains. These were the only pictures I was excited about from the whole trip. The fire lighting up the trees around camp while the Milky Way rose alongside Mount Peal.

The next morning, I woke up early determined to shoot sunrise, and guess what, there were no clouds except for some far off on the horizon to the east. I was getting eaten alive while waiting for something interesting to happen. Nothing did, unless you count the new dance moves I made up swatting away the bugs, the Dougie has nothing on the Skeeter.

I was hoping for a gradual alpenglow coming down the mountains, but the clouds to the east had other plans. They blocked that slow progression down the mountain like a kink in a hose, and when they shifted a little bit the entire mountainside lit up instead of just the peaks. The mountains turned a slight orange for a minute before the sun rose a little higher and everything started to wash out. Dejected I headed back to my tent to get a couple more z’s and to avoid the mosquitos that were quite hungry for breakfast.

I didn’t get the slow glow, but the little bit of time I got with these colors was just a reminder of how fleeting it is.

We all got up a little while later and packed up camp and were excited about the couple spots we were going to check out on our way back. However, it seemed luck wasn’t on our side. Every time we made the turn to go down a road to get to our locations, we ran into private property and no trespassing signs, private road signs, and closed gates. Reroute after reroute, like a trip home before Google Maps. It seemed like a poetic ending to a trip that for me seemed to just be roadblock after roadblock.

The next day after we got home, I was feeling pretty melancholy about it. Mad at the mistakes I had made, feeling like we turned around too soon on the canyon, everything that I wanted from it seemed just out of my reach. The more I thought about it though the more I realized how my perspective was all wrong. I wasn’t going into this looking for anything. I wasn’t going into this with any expectations. I had told Lauren that for this trip if I felt like shooting I would, if I didn’t feel like it, I wouldn’t, and it was primarily a scouting trip anyways. Figuring out the area and knowing where we could and couldn’t go.

Not a plane, not a bird, damn mosquitos.

Too often we get caught up in the shadow and weight of our own expectations, even when we are trying not to have any. I was letting my own expectations start to affect me instead of just being present and enjoying the moment. Enjoying time in an incredible landscape with two of my closest friends. Also understanding that It's ok to turn back, it’s ok to second guess your skill sets, go back and practice them and then return. Not only is it ok, but it’s also the right thing to do. Pride can be a killer, don’t let it get in the way of you making a safe and correct decision.

You could say it was a “road.”

When you start getting down on yourself, feeling disappointed in something, putting unnecessary pressure on yourself, the best thing to do is try and look at it from a fresh perspective. Get out of your own eyeline and look at it from a different angle. I know I’ll be back to this area, and maybe it’s an area I pick for a commercial shoot. It’s so much better we figured this out now instead of if I pitch it to a client, go and then come back and say sorry I couldn’t execute the plan we had put in place because we didn’t know we couldn’t go here. My disappointment soon turned into a feeling of relief, a sense of “I’m glad we know this now.” Now when I look back, all those things that got me down, well, now I just look back and laugh. All I needed was a change in perspective.