2023 Fall Gateway to Canyon Country

cept the permit. The next
step was attending the mandatory
orientation meeting
the following morning in
Page.
There were two other
groups at the orientation: A
30-something couple from
Prescott who had been trying
for a Wave permit for
four years, and four women
from North Carolina,
who mentioned that, coming
from sea level, they could
already feel the effects of
Page’s 4,500-foot elevation
while walking around town.
The orientation, led by a
knowledgeable staff member
at the Page Lake Powell
Hub Visitor Center, offered
safety advice for walking
in the desert (carry 1
gallon of water per person,
eat salty snacks, wear sunscreen),
rules for hiking in
the permit area (groups must
stay together, walking sticks
must be equipped with rubber
tips to avoid damaging
the rocks), and directions for
the 3.2-mile hike from Wire
Pass Trailhead to The Wave,
since there is no marked
trail through Coyote Buttes
North. Hikers are given a
cue sheet with numbered directions
and photographs of
geological formations to use
as navigations aids.
Another bit of advice was
to get an early start by arriving
at the trailhead by
dawn, which at that time of
year was around 6:30 a.m.
But according to the weather
forecast, the temperature
wouldn’t rise much
above 80 degrees Fahrenheit
throughout the day. Being
residents of the Southwest,
my wife and I often hike in
hot weather, so we weren’t
too concerned about getting
a super-early start. We
took the time to make pancakes
for breakfast before
embarking on the hour-long
drive to the trailhead – west
on Highway 89 for 36 miles,
then south on unpaved,
dusty, bumpy House Rock
Road for 8.2 miles. We arrived
around 8 a.m. Utah
time, and there were already
five or six cars in the parking
lot, including the group
from North Carolina.
We took our time getting
started, making sure our water
bottles and snacks were
packed comfortably, applying
sunscreen and signing
the trail registry. As we
set out along Coyote Wash,
we were a few hundred feet
behind the North Carolinians,
but as we left the wash
after about half a mile and
started walking uphill, they
stopped to rest. My wife
and I paused to say hello
as we passed, and they said
they were starting to feel
the effects of the elevation
– around 5,000 feet at that
point. They would be fine,
though, just a little slower
than they had anticipated.
We would cross paths again
at The Wave later in the day.
The rainy spring in the
West had resulted in an
abundant desert wildflower
season, and although Coyote
Buttes North is not particularly
famous for its blooms,
we did spot small clusters
of reddish-orange Indian
paintbrush, purple larkspur,
and white and yellow
primrose. At the same time,
there hadn’t been much rain
or wind during the previous
two weeks, so the abundance
of footprints made it
easy to follow the unmarked
“trail” as we crossed the sandy
plain toward our next
navigation point, a small
saddle on a sandstone ridge
on the horizon.
Once across the ridge,
the terrain became rocky
and uneven, with no footprints
to follow. But we
could see distinct geological
formations in the distance
for which we could
aim. We saw no other hikers
across the miles in front of
us. The morning was sunny
and cool as we traversed the
landscape, the vast expanse
of Pariah-Vermillion Cliffs
Wilderness extending off to
the left and Coyote Buttes
rising sharply to our right.
Some of the slickrock formations
looked like melted
sherbet, others like jagged,
knife-edged extrusions from
the underworld. We skirted
rocks that looked like colossal,
scaled pinecones, and
walked over others that we
12 Gateway to Canyon Country