In a land already famend for its surreal, sculpted wilderness, one formation dares to defy creativeness itself—Cosmic Ashtray. Tucked away within the rugged expanse of Grand Staircase-Escalante Nationwide Monument, this geological marvel feels much less like a spot on Earth and extra just like the remnant of some historic, cosmic occasion. Hikers who dare to succeed in it are rewarded with a sight that borders on the unimaginable—an 80-foot-deep, 100-foot-wide basin stuffed with vibrant, burnt-orange sand, cradled by a cluster of clean, white domes. The distinction is staggering, as if a colossal ember from the heavens scorched the bottom and left behind an alien crater, untouched by time.
Phrases falter within the presence of such grandeur—”otherworldly” is an understatement, and “photographs do not do it justice” barely scratches the floor. To face on the fringe of this monumental pit is to really feel dwarfed by forces far older and extra highly effective than human comprehension. It’s not only a vacation spot—it’s an encounter with the primordial soul of the Earth.
Cosmic Ashtray, recognized by many names—The Volcano, Galactic Navel, Inselberg Pit—is as elusive as it’s mesmerizing. There are two recognized approaches to this pure surprise: one from BLM 103/Spencer Flat Highway and one other from Gap-in-the-Rock Highway. Each routes are as unforgiving because the panorama they traverse—scorched, shadeless, and devoid of mercy.
Navigating to Cosmic Ashtray shouldn’t be for the novice—path markers are sparse and the labyrinthine slickrock can swallow even probably the most seasoned adventurers. Those that dare to undertake this journey are strongly suggested to obtain a path map beforehand and put together for the relentless publicity, for the solar reveals no mercy right here.
However for many who make it, the reward is staggering—a glimpse right into a world formed by the wild and unpredictable hand of time, the place sandstone giants and swirling sands guard the secrets and techniques of the Earth’s historic previous. Cosmic Ashtray is greater than only a sight—it’s an expertise that etches itself into the soul, a imaginative and prescient that lingers lengthy after you’ve left it behind.
Trailhead elevation 5,770′
Do not miss climbing down into Cosmic Ashtray by way of Moqui steps
Mountaineering to Cosmic Ashtray
It is late March, and I discover myself two days deep right into a relentless journey—an epic week-and-a-half odyssey by means of a few of Utah’s most untamed wilderness. Grand Staircase-Escalante Nationwide Monument, the San Rafael Swell, and The Needles are etched into my map, but it surely’s the land itself that etches itself into my soul.
Sunday morning dawns like a promise whispered throughout the slickrock, and I got down to hike Peek-A-Boo and Spooky Slot Canyons. These slim, winding cathedrals of stone swallow me entire, solely to spit me out hours later, humbled and hungry. Because the day presses on, I put together for my subsequent journey—backpacking Cosmic Ashtray.
There are two approaches to this historic, windswept anomaly—one from the south by way of Gap-in-the-Rock Highway, and one from the north by way of BLM 103/Spencer Flat Highway. I’ve danced with the southern strategy earlier than, its coarse embrace nonetheless vivid in my reminiscence. This time, I gamble on the northern strategy—a street much less taken, a brand new story ready to be written.
The drive down BLM 103 is nothing wanting cinematic—towering spires claw on the sky, golden domes shimmer within the noon solar, and crimson-striped ridges loom like historic sentinels, guarding the secrets and techniques of this primordial panorama. The street itself rumbles below my tires, a washboarded artery slicing by means of the huge solitude.
I spot a couple of campsites—wild, uncooked, and breathtaking—earlier than the street lastly dies at a sprawling trailhead, the place journey beckons. My pack is gentle, stripped to the necessities, but it surely feels heavy with the load of expectation. My drone rests securely, a mechanical falcon wanting to take to the skies. I step ahead, one deliberate stride into the unknown.
The path assessments me instantly—deep sand shifts treacherously beneath my ft, then hardens into compact terrain. I navigate pockets of slickrock that quicken my tempo, just for the sand to pull me again right into a grudging crawl. An enormous ridge stained with pink and crimson hues looms to the south, whereas the Henry Mountains brood far to the east.
Eventually, the slickrock takes over utterly—clean, unyielding, and unforgiving. The climb intensifies, the land rising and falling just like the respiration of some dormant big. The wind tears at me, fierce and biting, but it surely’s the vacancy that cuts deeper—an infinite, shadeless void the place rock cairns are scarce and steerage appears like a fleeting dream. Had I not downloaded the path to my telephone, I might be however a speck, misplaced within the stomach of this sandstone expanse.
An hour in, I pause—parched and weary—and my eyes catch a glint beneath. A shallow melancholy cradles a gathering of Moqui marbles—small, iron-coated spheres born from centuries of pure alchemy. I kneel, tracing their clean, fascinating varieties with reverent fingers, earlier than rising and transferring on—pushed by the pull of one thing historic calling me ahead.
At mile 3.5, I spherical an unlimited, white sandstone dome, and there it’s—a imaginative and prescient so magnificent and monstrous that I practically stagger. Cosmic Ashtray—its jap wall erupting from the bottom just like the backbone of some colossal beast, its huge, gaping maw agape in everlasting surprise. My pulse quickens, and I trudge on, drawn like a moth to a flame, determined to face at its edge.
Lastly, after one final ascent, I attain the saddle—a slim hole the place the sand pit yawns beneath, impossibly massive, like a crater carved by a meteor despatched from the gods. I drop my pack, consuming within the scene with unblinking eyes, and the sheer scale of it robs me of breath. It’s a place that defies cause—a monument to time, wind, and unimaginable drive.
After minutes that stretch like hours, I collect my braveness and descend. Moqui steps carved into the stone information me into the pit—a cautious, nerve-wracking dance down the slick slope.
Once I lastly attain the sandy ground, I dare not disturb its pristine ripples. I hint the perimeter as an alternative, shadowing the partitions, respecting the sanctity of this place the place nature itself appears to carry its breath.
Night settles in like a weary traveler, and I share tales with a Danish couple on their honeymoon—two souls equally enthralled by the uncooked, unapologetic grandeur. After they transfer on, I launch my drone into the sky, capturing pictures from a number of angles—an try and bottle the essence of a panorama that defies being captured.
As darkness falls, I sit in silence, staring on the central formation—Prometheus, I believe to myself. The formation seems similar to the helmets that the engineers wore within the film Prometheus!
The solar bleeds its final gentle over the jap wall, and the temperature plummets, bitter and unforgiving. I pitch my tent on a small patch of flat floor, cocooning myself from the night time and drifting into sleep—understanding I’ve walked the road between man and wilderness, and wilderness has whispered its secrets and techniques in return.
The wind howled like a ravenous beast all through the night time, clawing at my tent with icy fingers because the temperature plummeted into the unforgiving teenagers. Sleep was fleeting—a fitful dance with the chilly that seeped by means of each fiber of my being.
Eventually, round 7:00, I stirred from stressed slumber, understanding the time had come to face the bitter morning. I unzipped the door, and the frigid air surged in like a tidal wave, mercilessly devouring the remnants of heat I had fought so exhausting to protect. My breath hung within the air like ghostly wisps as I peered out, and there it was—the solar, triumphant over the horizon, casting its golden gentle upon the towering western wall of Cosmic Ashtray. The behemoth stood bathed in morning fireplace, fierce and unyielding—a ultimate, breathtaking glimpse of nature’s unimaginable energy.
I sat for a second longer, letting the scene etch itself into my reminiscence, earlier than I tore myself away and started packing my gear—slowly, virtually reverently, as if leaving too abruptly would break some unstated vow with the land.
With my pack secured and my soul heavier than once I arrived, I took one final look on the colossal formation—a masterpiece formed by time, chaos, and unimaginable drive. Then, with the wind nonetheless howling like a mournful lament behind me, I set off into the wilderness as soon as extra, carrying the reminiscence like a model upon my spirit.
