Paria?

HDT 2022 Day 22, April 22, Friday
Start in Hackberry Canyon S8 mile 11.7
End beside Paria River S8 mile 36.7
Miles walked: 25

After reaching that first water, the water continued running, and Hackberry Canyon was transformed into a riparian haven

Water flows in wide rippling sheets along the sandy bottom, only a half inch in depth, which involves a good bit of splash-hiking. Canyon rock has now turned red.

Nearing the end, as a finale the canyon walls become high and narrow, and the water extends almost along its full width, leaving no room for willow.

Exiting at Cottonwood Creek permit station, I meet a couple who have been running support for three HDT hikers they say are a day ahead of me:Birgit, Hanuela, and Wolfgang, from Germany. I see another couple of hikers from France, about the same distance.

Joining the Paria River, I turn from southwest to northwest, repeatedly crossing the river stream, typically only three feet wide and shoe height, as it winds to and fro between its outer banks.

The original Mormon townsite Paria only has a couple of structures remaining. This was a popular location for shooting movies.

The day is overcast, turning colder, windy, with several light showers alternating with sun. The lighting does not allow the remarkable colors of the soil and rock on the hillsides to be captured. Here the wind is kicking up sand in the riverbed

I will include photos of the hills, in the hope that they can be color-corrected later.

After walking thirteen miles on the river, I easily crossed the stream over a hundred times. Marching forward was the only way to keep warm(ish) on this cold windy wet day.

Hackberry?

HDT 2022 Day 21, April 21, Thursday
Start along dirt road near Dog Flat S7 mile 69.2
End in Hackberry Canyon S8 mile 11.7
Miles walked: 23.3

A morning roadwalk past a ridge reveals Grosvenor Arch, which appears to be an arch among spire rock formations.

Some I dug up my 4th food cache.

A while ago my brother, knowing I like dark chocolate, got me a box of bars from a high-end brand I hadn’t heard about. I have been putting a bar in each cache bucket, for morale. So far, by burying deep in my pack, no melting or loss of temper. I eat a chunk when I’m about to do something particularly challenging. Good work, Bro.

From Round Valley Draw Trailhead the route follows a wash to a slot canyon.

The passage is going to be really quite narrow, so I reconfigure my pack to remove everything from outer pockets, to be as slim as possible.

A 10 foot drop is too narrow to climb down with my pack, so I lower my pack down first with a bear line.

The slot is a fantasy of alternating undulations.

Later the slot opens a bit wider and goes a bit straighter, but is awesomely deep. Pockets of cold air are held in the passageways. The lighting from far above reminds me of a cathedral. Having such a good time, I giggle to myself, but only inwardly, to preserve the profound quiet.

Entering Hackberry Canyon, a box canyon with width varying from 20 to 200 feet, the number of plants growing in any crack in the rock is remarkable.

(I wonder if hackberry is a shrub, and if any of these plants is a hackberry.)

Normally Hackberry Canyon is known to have water running in its wash, but today there is only loose sand and a fierce headwind, battering grains of sand against the brim of my hat as I keep my head down.

Finally, after several miles, I find a pool of water, with a frog, and water starts running in the wash.

Although skies have been clear all day, I pick a campsite well up from the canyon floor, with an old cattle trail that exits the canyon, as a precaution for flash floods.

Finished audiobook The Wind in the Willows, by Kenneth Grahame.

Paradise?

HDT 2022 Day 20, April 20, Wednesday
Start along Last Chance Creek S7 mile 44.4
End along dirt road near Dog Flat S7 mile 69.2
Miles walked: 24.8

Last Chance Creek was crossed by a dirt road, Smokey Mountain Road, where a mountain biker was camped last night. We talked a while– it has been a few days since I saw a human being.

Last Chance Creek became intermittent well before my notes suggested it would. I had to backtrack a quarter of a mile to return to a good pool of water– a good call, since any pools ahead were torn up by cattle.

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