Bull Valley Gorge in southern Utah is a spot the place the earth folds in on itself—slender, towering, and historical. The dramatic slot canyon cuts via the center of the Grand Staircase-Escalante, its sandstone partitions closing so tightly in locations that daylight barely filters via. However probably the most haunting function lies suspended above the canyon flooring: the rusted stays of a Nineteen Fifties pickup truck, wedged impossibly between the sheer partitions, a grim monument to tragedy.
In 1954, three males tried to cross a slender bridge over the gorge. Tragically, their truck stalled and rolled backward off the sting, plunging into the tightest part of the slot canyon. All three males misplaced their lives within the crash. Recovering their our bodies proved tough. The sheriff, accompanied by his son, responded to the scene; his son rappelled down into the canyon to achieve the wreckage. Two of the our bodies have been pulled as much as the rim utilizing ropes, however the third man had been thrown from the truck and was later discovered on the backside of the gulch. Immediately, the pickup nonetheless rests there, a chilling reminder of the tragedy.

Trailhead elevation 6,090′
Do not miss the Jeep, after all
Climbing Bull Valley Gorge
Contemporary off an overnighter in Bryce Canyon, I set my sights on the uncooked, wild expanse of Grand Staircase-Escalante for a four- or five-day enterprise. I begin the day by making a long-overdue journey out to lastly discover Bull Valley Gorge—a spot that is been on the sting of my curiosity for too lengthy.
The drive out is, as at all times, a shifting portray of stone and sky. Fortunately, the BLM 500 is bone-dry this time—a aid, contemplating my final journey out practically led to my truck sliding off the aspect. Miles unspool behind me till I move the acquainted Willis Creek Narrows trailhead. Not lengthy after, I arrive on the quiet vacancy of the Bull Valley Gorge parking space. No different souls in sight—simply me and the wind. I down a swig of water and head out, stepping onto the rim underneath a cloudy sky.

The path skirts the sting of the gorge like a tightrope, teasing glimpses into the shadowy depths beneath. Earlier than lengthy, a modest wood signal and a path register greet me. I scrawl my identify into the ledger of wanderers, then pause for a view of the world.

Urgent on, I proceed to a drop-in level a couple of half-mile in. The sandy flooring welcomes me with smooth resistance, and I backtrack till I attain the primary actual impediment—a straightforward 8-foot down climb that forces me to really feel each inch of rock beneath my palms and soles.

From there, the canyon breathes—increasing, tightening, shaping itself right into a labyrinth of stone. It is late March, and the nippiness of winter nonetheless lingers. Snow and ice cling stubbornly to the shadowed backside, glistening like crystal veins carved via the earth.

Gnarled bushes and large boulders—some as giant as tiny properties—are wedged between the canyon’s sheer partitions, silent testaments to the livid, chaotic floods that sculpted this place.

Inside the subsequent quarter mile, I face two extra down climbs. The primary is straightforward, aided by a conveniently positioned tree limb; the second calls for a bit extra finesse, requiring cautious negotiation round a hulking boulder.

Instantly after the third down climb, beneath a ceiling of pale sky framed by hundred-foot partitions, I discover myself straight beneath the notorious Jeep. Its rear axle dangles overhead like a warning or a surprise—relying on the way you select to see it. I stand nonetheless, small within the shadow of time and metal, snap just a few images, and let the silence swallow me.

Ultimately, I retrace my steps, climbing again out of the gorge, with mud-caked footwear and a smile on my face. After returning to the truck, I am off to Escalante for a return journey to Zebra and Tunnel Slot Canyons and an evening underneath the celebrities.