In Utah, there’s a place, a National Park, known far and wide for its naturally-occurring sandstone arches, worn over the years by wind and water. This entry isn’t about that place. This entry is about an area a bit closer to the Rocky Mountains, an area East of the Colorado-Utah border: Black Ridge Canyons Wilderness. This bit of BLM land near the city of Grand Junction — and just a bit closer to the town of Fruita — is a little-known and less well-traveled cousin of Arches. Skyler and I arrived there in early morning after a post-work journey from Denver the night before in order to hike to Rattlesnake Canyon. Rattlesnake Canyon is home to the second highest concentration of naturally-formed arches in North America (after the aforementioned national park), and we were eager to see such a place sans the national park crowds.

We left our lodgings in Grand Junction as the sun was rising and made our way to the Pollock Bench trailhead at the edge of the wilderness. Fog floated up from the Colorado River as we drove, followed by something much less pleasant wafting over from a nearby sewage-treatment plant as we exited the car. Moving up and away from the gravel parking lot, we soon escaped the smell and found ourselves among the typical desert flora of scrub and brush as we overlooked several sandstone canyons.

The first few miles of trail were well-worn and well-marked by signs, with obvious pointers to Rattlesnake Canyon. However, at some point, we took a wrong turn. A mile after climbing through a rusted barbed-wire fence, we found that the trail we had been following petered out feet from the edge of a dead end. Cliffs all around, we had no choice but to turn around and hike about two miles back to a fork which we had missed.

Dotted onto slick rock were a series of cairns meant to mark the way down to the actual trail, though they were scarcely visible from above. The social trail which we had been following, we decided, was likely the result of many other hikers who had similarly missed the turn.

Now back on track, we descended into our first canyon of the day, and thereafter traversed numerous ups and downs as the trail took us across more canyons rather than through them.

The sun stood straight overhead as we made the final ascent to the rim of Rattlesnake Canyon. The weatherman had prophesied mild temperatures for the day, but the day had disagreed. We panted as we made our way past more barbed wire and cold sandstone cliffs, hoping to reach the destination soon.

It took one last climb before we reached Rattlesnake Canyon. The end we had approached only allowed access to the canyon floor via a class four climb over slick-rock through “First Arch”. Following that, it was to be another six miles through the canyon.

Having already hiked near nine miles that day, Skyler and I decided to mull our plans a bit over some lunch.

We cleared our minds over a box of crackers and decided it was in our best interest to turn around and begin the hike back. Exploring Rattlesnake Canyon in its totality would have to wait for another, cooler and cloudier day.

The hike back, as expected, turned to a slog as we navigated back through the canyons in a weakened and finally dehydrated daze. The desert, though majestic as always, was getting the best of us.

We were down to silent shuffling as we arrived back at the parking lot. As I unlocked the car, a breeze began to carry in the rain clouds which had sat at the horizon all day. Heads pounding for want of a cold drink, we climbed into the car to make the drive back to Denver. Beautiful as it had been, this desert trek had been a definite case of “second-hand fun”, something enjoyable only in retrospect. But, enjoyable nonetheless.

See you next time!

~Sky & Ty

(Photography courtesy of Skyler Stanley; Words courtesy of Tyler Brant)