The Wave

The 112,500-acre Paria Canyon-Vermilion Cliffs Wilderness, between Kanab and  Page, Ariz., offers unique desert beauty

KANAB -- The desert offers a parched, windswept beauty, a sparseness and simplicity that awes.

And in Southern Utah, Northern Arizona time, wind and water have shaped a playful, quirky and lonely landscape in the 112,500-acre Paria Canyon-Vermilion Cliffs Wilderness, a wilderness that is a paradise for hikers and photographers.

Located halfway between Kanab and Page, Ariz., on the border off U.S. Highway 89, Paria is remote, modern-convenience free, and difficult to hike -- perfect for our anniversary, my husband, Mike, and I decided.

Covering all 112,500 acres of the wilderness seemed impossible to crowd into our four-day camping trip, even leaving the kids at home. So we focused our trip around the Coyote Buttes North area, specifically The Wave.

Roughly three miles of route-finding, wash-hiking, cairn-guided hiking from the White House Rock Valley Road (a dirt road that is possible, when dry, to navigate in a Chevy Prism), sits the world-famous Wave, a frozen striation of color that eddies and pools in smooth curves of sandstone.

Pictures of the Wave have adorned coffee-table books, calendars and guidebooks. Its smooth beauty was featured in a movie , "Faszination Natur" a 1995 German film by Gogol Lobmayr that first brought the area to light. Since then photographers and hikers from all over the world have come to capture their own images. Signatures from Holland, Germany, and Belgium marked the trail register the day we hiked to the Wave.

In its May issue, Reader's Digest featured a picture and short description of the Wave, calling it the "Shangri-La for extreme hikers." I'm not sure about the extreme hiking, but it did take some good maps and route-finding skills.

Perhaps the most difficult part (minus a long trek across the kind of sand that finds every hole and seam in your shoe), is getting a permit to hike it. Twenty people a day are allowed to visit the Wave. Permits are distributed both through an online lottery and to walk-in applicants.

The chance of winning the lottery during the most popular times -- April, May, September, and October -- is 10 percent. We lucked out and won the online permit lottery. Looking at the numbers posted on the door at the Paria Ranger station, walk-in permits are a matter of luck as well, with 40 to 70 people applying per day. During June, July, and August, when the temperatures reach the high 90s, your chances are better.

Our permit was for the first Friday in June, so we prepared for hot weather. We loaded up the car with eight gallons of water and other camping supplies, and then we were off to the desert. We arrived at the Stateline Campground, resplendent with Arizona and Utah border signs, on Thursday morning.

Rock formations

Since our permit to hike the Wave wasn't until Friday, we spent Thursday treasure hunting. Using hand-drawn maps, looking for clues and stopping at mile markers near small towns, we drove down dirt roads searching out the gems hidden in the area.

Our maps and directions were from two books -- Michael Kelsey's, "Hiking and Exploring the Paria River" has detailed maps, pictures, and directions to abandoned mines, cool hikes, toadstools, petroglyph panels and other beautiful, unexpected formations. Laurent Martres' "Photographing the Southwest" has driving directions, photo tips, and fabulous pictures. We used Martres for the pictures, and Kelsey for the directions.

Using our GPS unit, we hiked one mile off of Cottonwood Wash Road (composed of oh-my-gosh-we-need-four-wheel-drive dirt), to an overlook of some Rimrock toadstool formations. We also drove past the town of Churchwells on the excitingly named road "BLM 435" to the White Rocks.

Hiking around the White Rocks offers some bouldering, if you want, and easy wash hiking, also only if you want. You can also drive up to the rocks, take some cool pictures and leave, but as Edward Abbey says, "You can't see anything from a car. You've got to get out of the (expletive) contraption and walk. . ."

We parked our car next to a towering formation that looked like a door to another world and began hiking. We worked our way up one of the many canyons in the area, and were rewarded with a fox sighting. I was worried it would start stalking us, mountain lion-style, but it wouldn't even let us get a picture from 200 feet away.

After the sun began to set, we headed back to camp to sleep with our rocks (they grounded the tent, since I forgot the stakes).

The Wave

Friday we got to the Wire Pass (one of two main entrances to the Wave) trailhead at 9:30 a.m. The temperature was just starting to get uncomfortable -- mid 80s, eventually reaching 90 degrees. But map-reading and sandstone scrambling kept my mind off the heat. The stinging wind, which was critical in forming the beauty around us, also helped keep us cool.

Following the map and instructions mailed to us when we won our permit, we trekked across the sand and stone, in search of the Wave.

We detoured on our way to the Wave to visit the Lace Rocks, fragile, unbelievable formations, intricately woven into the landscape. We stepped very carefully, trying not to destroy their ephemeral beauty.

After snapping pictures, we scrambled down the sandstone back to the sand trail and worked our way up to the Wave. Walking into the Wave was like walking into a beautiful, centuries-old church -- awe inspiring and quieting.

"Oh," was all that I managed as we entered the swirls of color.

My definition of a wilderness experience involves hiking for days, seeing only one or two people, who also have a half-crazed, "Where is civilization?" look in their eyes, so since we saw six people who had also made the hike to the Wave, technically it wasn't a wilderness experience. But everyone moved out of the way for pictures and was polite.

We spent the day exploring the area and finding other wind, water and sandstone creations. Our favorite was "The Alcove" a natural ampitheater full of brilliantly lit sandstone formations that melted into loose sand. It was like a moment of the area's creation was caught in the Alcove.

Our day ended when we found the second Wave, a creamy yellow formation that reminded me of banana splits.

I was getting hungry and hot and my two-liter camelback was running low, so we headed back for the car, reaching it about 6 p.m.

The next day we were scheduled to meet some friends, Scott and Monica Little, for a hike into Buckskin Gulch, a 12-mile long slot canyon (one of the longest around), so we went to bed early.

Despite our comforting rocks and an air mattress that miraculously did not deflate during the night, Mike and I decided that our next night would be spent in a hotel. Car camping is fun, but only as long as you can stand the smell of yourself when you have all the windows rolled up.

Buckskin Gulch

At 8 a.m. we met the Littles for our hike into the Gulch. We used the Wirepass trailhead and decided to hike until we got tired.

I thought nothing could top the previous day's sights. Buckskin did. We squeezed through the narrow (two feet in some places) Wirepass slots and wound past hiding snakes and lizards. We bouldered around 10-foot boulders that looked as if the Gods had been playing marbles and got called away suddenly.

I kept tripping. Yes, I am clumsy, but mostly it was because I couldn't keep from looking up and up and up at the towering walls that narrowly let the light in. We tired about 1 p.m., and decided to turn around, but the mystery of "just around the corner" kept us moving for a little longer.

If Robert Frost had visited Buckskin Gulch, perhaps the poem would have read, "The slot canyons are lovely, dark and deep. . ." It was with regret that we turned around to head back to the cars. The return hike looked nothing like the hike in. The light had changed and with it the canyon walls took on different shapes and shades.

It was with relief and regret that we found our cars. The tallest buildings and most beautiful sculptures would look small for awhile. When they start to seem too big, we'll plan another trip into the wilderness to see a force of creation greater than man.

For permit information and maps see the BLM website: https://www.blm.gov/az/asfo/paria/index.htm