Mountain climbing by means of Peek-A-Boo and Spooky Slot Canyons in Grand Staircase-Escalante Nationwide Monument is nothing wanting a heart-pounding thrill journey into the very soul of the desert. As you step into the slim, twisting canyons, it looks like coming into one other world—one carved by time, water, and the unrelenting forces of nature. The air is thick with the silence of the canyon, damaged solely by the sound of your footsteps echoing off the sleek, towering sandstone partitions.
Peek-A-Boo greets you first with its snaking corridors, the place the rock partitions squeeze in so tightly that each step looks like a leap into the unknown. The canyon opens up in locations, providing glimpses of blue sky, however then it tightens once more, forcing you to twist and squeeze by means of openings barely broad sufficient in your physique. The colours of the canyon are vibrant, streaks of crimson, orange, and pink dancing throughout the stone, their brilliance shifting with the altering gentle. The additional you go, the extra you are feeling such as you’re venturing right into a secret world—a world the place each nook holds a brand new shock.
Then, as you push ahead, you enter Spooky—its identify virtually a whisper of what’s to return. Spooky doesn’t disappoint. The passage narrows to a hair’s width, with jagged partitions that appear to shut in on you, as if the canyon itself is testing your resolve. It’s possible you’ll end up holding your breath, squeezing by means of gaps so tight your physique feels as if it is perhaps swallowed complete by the earth. It’s thrilling. It’s eerie. And it’s totally unforgettable. The canyon twists and turns with wild abandon, every new passage extra dramatic than the final. Shadows play tips in your eyes, and the narrowness forces you to focus—on each step, each contact of the rock beneath your fingers.
As you progress deeper into these canyons, you notice how small you’re within the grand scheme of the land, humbled by the uncooked, untamed great thing about the desert. The deeper you enterprise, the extra you come to know the facility of nature, the way it has carved and formed these canyons over millennia. Each twist of Peek-a-Boo and each tight squeeze of Spooky is a testomony to the forces that formed the land and a reminder that the desert, wild and unforgiving, nonetheless holds its secrets and techniques shut. These searching for an journey that thrills the guts, challenges the spirit, and leaves you awestruck by the great thing about the earth—mountaineering by means of Peek-a-Boo and Spooky Slot Canyons in Escalante is an expertise you’ll always remember.
Trailhead elevation 4,908′
Do not miss sporting a cotton or cotton mix shirt (for actual)
Mountain climbing Peek-a-Boo and Spooky Gulch
The journey started with a drive down Gap-in-the-Rock Highway, a 26-mile stretch of washboard dust that appears to shake free each thought in my head. The land out right here is desolate in essentially the most lovely approach—sun-scorched and silent, with distant cliffs rising like fossilized waves on the horizon. I arrive on the trailhead and discover two steel poles planted within the sand, a weathered signal stretching between them studying: “WARNING: Spooky Slot Canyon – Extraordinarily Slender.” The message is evident—should you can’t squeeze between these poles, you received’t make it by means of the canyon. I step up, check the hole with a smile, and slip by means of simply.
The path begins by means of a panorama that feels each historical and alive—a sea of crimson earth laced with life clinging defiantly to the desert. Twisted junipers and prickly pear cacti stand firmly within the sand, their shadows lengthy and sharp within the early gentle. The trail winds ahead, drawing me towards the unknown, the huge expanse of the Egypt Bench stretches earlier than me like a forgotten kingdom. Far past, the Henry Mountains rise on the horizon. The air hums with stillness, the sort that solely the desert is aware of.
Across the three-quarter mile mark, one thing catches my eye—a rupture within the clean expanse of sandstone far beneath, a jagged wound carved into the Earth itself.
I pause and zoom in with my digicam. A cluster of tiny figures stands at its mouth, dwarfed by the canyon partitions, their actions gradual and reverent. I pull out my map and hint the contours with my eyes. There it’s. The doorway to Peek-A-Boo.
Not lengthy after recognizing the break within the sandstone beneath, the path plunges with sudden urgency, dropping me down a slickrock slope that gleams underneath the desert solar like polished bone. My boots skid barely on the descent, after which the trail slips right into a comfortable, sandy ravine—a quiet, wind-carved hall that funnels me towards the valley ground like a forgotten tributary.
At round 1.5 miles, an indication emerges from the sand pointing towards the canyons forward. Time is slipping, so I make the decision—Dry Fork Narrows must wait. Right now, it’s all about Peek-A-Boo and Spooky, the legends which have drawn me into this wilderness.
Only a few hundred toes later, I arrive. The doorway to Peek-A-Boo Gulch looms earlier than me, not as a path, however as a problem—a ten-foot sandstone wall, clean and sunbaked, scarred with the remnants of numerous climbers earlier than me. Carved into the rock are Moqui steps, shallow and precarious. I grip the nice and cozy stone, haul myself up, my coronary heart pounding with pleasure—and with one closing pull, I slip over the lip and into the canyon’s embrace.
Contained in the slot canyon, the world is twisted. The partitions aren’t simply crimson—the glow, sculpted by water into clean, flowing shapes. I scramble underneath arches, duck by means of holes, and climb by means of winding chutes the place the sandstone narrowed like the within of a large shell. I really feel like I used to be strolling by means of the ribs of a sleeping big.
The deeper I’m going, the quieter it will get. The wind stops. My footsteps echo softly, like I am treading by means of reminiscence. Each flip is a shock—a chamber lit by a shaft of daylight, a tunnel so slim I needed to press my arms towards each partitions simply to cross in spots.
Because the canyon stretches open earlier than me, one thing ignites deep inside—a fierce, virtually childlike want for this second to go on without end. Surprise floods my senses, uncooked and overwhelming, as if I’ve stumbled right into a dream I by no means wish to wake from. Each bend, each sunlit wall calls to me like a siren music. I’m using the sting of pure pleasure, and I need extra.
Nonetheless, Peek-A-Boo ultimately releases me again into the solar, onto a excessive desert plain of slickrock and sand. The fun of probably the most lovely slot canyons on Earth is over, but there’s nonetheless a lot extra journey forward.
After a protracted stroll above floor, I attain Spooky—and the actual problem begins. The doorway to Spooky is small. Refined.
As soon as I step in, it is clear this canyon has a unique character. Spooky would not welcome me—it swallows me complete. The partitions shut in quick. Inside minutes, I am sidestepping by means of passages barely a foot broad. The rock brushes my chest and again concurrently. I believe to myself, had I worn my artificial cloth shell jacket, it might be ripped to shreds by now. The air is cool and nonetheless. Each sound—the scrape of my backpack, my very own breath—appears amplified.
I’ve to take away my pack and maintain it sideways simply to squeeze by means of a number of of the tighter bends. At one level, I drop down between slim partitions, feeling blindly with my toes for the subsequent ledge. It’s darkish. It’s silent. It’s unnerving. And I find it irresistible.
Spooky is much less of a hike and extra of an ordeal—a maze of twisting stone that messes together with your sense of course and scale. There’s no path, no signposts, simply rock and intuition. Time stretches. So does my persistence. Midway by means of the canyon, a big boulder jam obstructs the trail, making the already powerful slot canyon much more tough. I try to climb over it, however fail. The one choice left is to crawl beneath, although that brings its personal type of agony.
Past the chaotic tumble of boulders, the canyon stretches onward, twisting and writhing in a relentless dance between suffocating slim passages and transient, fleeting expanses of open air. The partitions shut in with a maddening sense of urgency, solely to tug again, permitting me a second’s breath earlier than the subsequent embrace. With every flip, I’m gripped by an aching curiosity—when will this labyrinth lastly yield? Not that I want for it to finish, not but, however when will the unyielding wilds relent?
Then, lastly, the stone loosened its grip. The canyon widens, the sunshine returns, and I step again into the solar like a diver surfacing from deep water. Phew.
The hike again as much as the trailhead is demanding—steep and sandy and uncovered. However my thoughts was nonetheless beneath, someplace in these winding corridors of stone. Peek-A-Boo and Spooky aren’t simply hikes. They’re experiences that change you. They remind you that the Earth is alive, that it strikes, breathes, carves, and waits. These canyons don’t care should you’re prepared. They demand presence, humility, and a little bit of nerve. I left the desert scraped up and a bit awestruck. I additionally left feeling extra grounded—like I’d been deep into the guts of one thing historical and had come again carrying a chunk of it inside me. When you go, go early. Go ready. And when the rock closes round you, breathe deep. Don’t rush. Let the stone inform its story.
