Deep within the distant, untamed wilderness of Grand Staircase-Escalante Nationwide Monument, the place time and water have carved sandstone into labyrinthine passageways, two slot canyons beg to be explored—Zebra and Tunnel Canyons.
Zebra Canyon, with its razor-thin partitions streaked in crimson and ivory, is a spot the place mild dances and shadows whisper. Named for its hypnotic, striped sandstone formations, the slot canyon is a surreal, virtually otherworldly expertise. Navigating its sinuous curves and slender corridors requires cautious maneuvering—at occasions, hikers should chimney by tight areas to make their method ahead. Then there’s Tunnel Canyon, a darker, extra mysterious passage the place water swimming pools linger in shadowed alcoves, and the partitions appear to stretch endlessly upward. Not like the colourful hues of Zebra, Tunnel Canyon is outlined by its eerie magnificence—an underground cathedral sculpted by millennia of flash floods. Collectively, the 2 canyons kind a memorable journey by the wilds of Utah, the place the uncooked energy of nature meets the fun of exploration.
Trailhead elevation 5,341′
Do not miss bringing water footwear for the inevitable water in each Zebra and Tunnel
Mountaineering Zebra & Tunnel Slot Canyons
I roll into the dusty coronary heart of Escalante from clawing my method by the slender, twisting chasm of Bull Valley Gorge. My mud-caked boots hit the bottom exterior Escalante Outfitters, the place I go to for some gear tape and one in every of their legendary sandwiches. I then head east and enterprise down the washboard hellscape that’s Gap-in-the-Rock Street in the direction of the trailhead for Zebra and Tunnel Slot Canyons.
Destiny smiled on me in the present day. The car parking zone, often overrun with the boots and chatter of fellow hikers, is surprisingly empty. Not a soul in sight. On the unmarked trailhead, I fill my bottle and set off into the wild. The trail weaves by an open desert basin, a cracked, golden panorama typically grazed by cattle.
The trail parallels Harris the wash for the primary mile and 1 / 4, gently coaxing me onward because the terrain begins to pulse with coloration and form. Simply past a mile into the hike, crimson-streaked sandstone formations emerge, harking back to the surreal landscapes of Yant Flat — streaked with the brushstrokes of time and storm.
Not lengthy after this, I enter Harris Wash and are available upon a weather-worn wood swing gate — an implement of the cattlemen’s area, creaking faintly within the breeze.
I move by it and proceed by the wash earlier than rejoining the rollercoaster footpath. Then, at roughly 2.25 miles in, the trail dips again into the wash for the ultimate time.
Right here, I veer left, my steps sinking right into a deep stretch of sand. Scattered throughout me are Moqui marbles — unusual, spherical stones, born of time and stress, just like the bones of the desert itself. Then I see it — the slender mouth of Zebra Slot Canyon.
Figuring out what lay forward, I toss on my Tevas and press on. The slot greets me with out fanfare, its opening humble, even plain. However this adjustments quick.
Inside 100 ft, the partitions shut in like a vice — from a beneficiant ten ft to lower than the width of my shoulders. By 150 ft in, I am shin-deep in icy water, wading by a thirty-foot-long pool that steals my breath with every step. The canyon narrows much more past this, then opens in unusual rhythms.
Halfway by the canyon, the partitions develop so tight I’ve no selection however to chimney up, urgent arms and knees in opposition to both aspect to climb above the bottleneck. May I’ve squeezed by beneath? Possibly. However the value would’ve been scraped pores and skin and bloodied toes — a toll I wasn’t keen to pay.
Then, abruptly, I am there — within the sacred coronary heart of the canyon. The partitions bloom round me in undulating stripes of crimson, orange, yellow, and rust, so vivid they appear painted on by some divine brush.
Mild filters down in smooth beams, catching the curves and casting shadows that shift with each passing cloud. It is like stepping right into a dream carved from hearth and stone.
I wander forwards and backwards by the slot, mesmerized. Every time I flip, the colours change — the solar enjoying tips, now revealing, now hiding the canyon’s full glory. I stand in awe, humbled by the quiet majesty of all of it. I had come looking for journey — however what I discovered was reverence.
Zebra is a quick marvel — barely a number of hundred ft lengthy — however what it lacks in size, it makes up for in relative problem and immense magnificence.
After soaking within the striped cathedral of Zebra for what felt like a suspended second in time — an hour, possibly extra — I reluctantly flip away, and retrace my path by the slender sandstone hall. Simply past the slot’s mouth, I catch sight of a footpath veering left, which leads me towards my subsequent vacation spot: Tunnel Canyon.
I scrambled up a jumbled modest mess of boulders, crest the rocks, and discover myself in entrance of a barbed wire fence. A small raised part beckons, and I slide beneath it, stomach to earth.
As soon as by, the terrain tilts upward, revealing a slickrock slope bathed in solar and chaos — a sprawling discipline of Moqui marbles scattered throughout the stone like celestial seeds. 1000’s upon 1000’s of them, as if the desert sky had as soon as shattered and spilled its stars right here. I observe the fence line, weaving alongside its edge till the land abruptly collapses — the trail dropping away right into a chasm.
I descend, the air cooling barely as I curve round a pointy 90-degree flip — and there it’s: Tunnel Slot Canyon. Its entrance is delicate and unassuming. A shallow pool stretches earlier than it — twenty ft lengthy and full of chilly, shin-deep water that laps lazily on the rock. I wade by, the nippiness biting however manageable. The canyon partitions right here lack the mesmerizing stripes and complicated textures of Zebra — a extra muted palette, an easier construction. However then once more, few locations on the planet apart from Peek-A-Boo and Spooky Slot Canyons might rival the surreal splendor of Zebra.
Tunnel is transient — 100 ft, possibly much less — a slender passage carved by time and flood, opens up abruptly into a large, sun-drenched expanse. The world feels huge once more, the sky big and blinding above. Someplace forward, the trail curves gently and reunites with Harris Wash — the identical dusty artery that had drawn me out right here.
And similar to that, the loop started to shut — however the desert, in its quiet, historical method, had marked me as soon as once more.
