This post is the story of my first ever slot canyon hike. It was one of the most beautiful (and perhaps the most rewarding) hikes I’ve ever done. It is also a story about how I fell, got soaked, and broke my camera and phone before I even got to the bouldering section. Later, the story continues into how I met new friends, and how we problem solved the remainder of the climb together over many hours. If you are adventurous and are in Page - you HAVE to do this hike. Read on below…

The Cathedral Wash Trail which is within a mile of the entrance to the park - isn’t really a trail at all - but it may be the most beautiful and rewarding hike I’ve completed. It’s just over 3 miles round trip and only 400 vertical feet from the road to the Colorado River, but it’s some of the most challenging (non-rope) hiking I’ve ever done. The “trail" starts off in a wash where the “canyon” walls are barely a few feet high and quite far apart. There is no path - you simply follow the canyon down, any way you can. As you follow the wash toward the river the puddles at the center get deeper, the walls get closer together and much, much taller (see pictures below). After 15 or so minutes you will start to regularly cliff out. The trail requires significant trial and error - and that’s what made it so fun. I climb quite a bit, and even I had to turn around countless times to find new ways to go. If you do the trail and you get to a point where you think “I might need a rope to get back up here” - trust there is another way down, you just haven’t found it yet. I spent a lot of time agonizing at various points whether to turn around for fear if I went down, I wouldn’t be able to get back up later.

The hike was humbling for multiple reasons. Early on - I was so enamored with the beauty of the canyon walls that I decided to walk with my big camera out. At one point, I jumped down from a ledge to a puddle below thinking it was only an inch deep. It wasn’t. And as I sunk in I lurched forward and had to use my hands to prevent a much more serious fall. Both my camera and phone got soaked. My camera got fried and wouldn’t turn back on - but at least nothing was cracked. My phone still worked, but mud was jammed deep into the charging socket, so I wasn’t sure it if would get fried too.

The experience shook me mentally. I had been so happy before this. I’d been smiling like a fool and humming to myself. Up to this point on my journey - traveling alone had been all “ponies, picnics, and April sunshine”. The fall, which ruined my electronics and bruised my ego, but left me physically unharmed, made me realize this adventure isn’t riskless. I can enjoy the adventure, and I also need to be responsible and take my safety seriously.

There was nothing I could do about my electronics, so I pushed forward with the hike, paradoxically now much more aware of my surroundings than when I’d been trying to document every turn of the canyon walls.

Ten minutes later I got to point where I couldn’t figure out a way down on either side of the wash. There were separate couples on both sides attempting to find routes, but neither was having any luck. I spoke to both, and connected much better the older couple - probably in their early 60s. We strategized together for another five minutes before they decided to set up a rope and repel down. I didn’t feel comfortable repelling so I kept searching for another way down, which I eventually found. Once I did, and I ran into them again, we struck up a conversation and hiked the rest of the way to the river and back together. You will see them in all my photos down below.

Sharing the experience with them enriched my experience immensely. I loved hearing their life stories. He grew up in Alaska, had climbed Denali solo in his youth, had moved to San Francisco and met her at a Pilates class in the 1990s. Now their kids were in college, and they had retrofitted a van, which they take all over the west for weeks at a time to hike and explore. They were full of suggestions for hikes I should check out later in my adventure too (including Muley’s Point near Monument Valley and the Valley of Fire near Las Vegas).

Growing up I was so shy and was convinced I was an introvert. What I’m realizing now is I actually love meeting and talking to new people. I didn’t do it more, because I was afraid of rejection and awkwardness, and stressed out because I often trying so hard to be something or hide some part of myself. On this trip, I’ve just tried to be present as I am (so I’m not hiding or posturing) and to be fully present to whoever I am speaking to (so they know they are my number 1 priority). The has transformed the quality of my connection with others immensely.

Having these sorts of beautiful unexpected connections has brought me a lot of joy as well because it reminds me of my grandmother. She was always telling us stories of friends she and my grandfather met on their world travels. Throughout this trip, connecting with strangers has made me feel like I understand her better. That thought has made me smile and feel closer to her — even in her absence.

Below are a few pictures of other hikers in the canyon for a sense of scale. You’ll also see in the photos just how beautiful (and precarious) many of these paths were - requiring basic bouldering and use of all limbs - including gripping the cracks to keep your feet stable as you moved them.

When we finished the hike the sun was already setting. As I got into my car and tried to plug my phone into the car to charge it, I realized I couldn’t! The mud was so jammed into the ports that there was no way for me to charge it. I had a nearly full charge still, but how was I supposed to make the it the rest of the trip without a phone? There was nothing to do, so I thought it best to just drive back to the hotel and figure things out later.

On the way home I saw a Walmart. Jackpot! I had a vague notion that maybe compressed air could help dislodge the dirt once it dried, and maybe if I put the camera in a bag of rice that would help remove the water from the circuit.

As I went to bed, not having a phone or my camera, was a revelation. I hadn’t realized how much mental and physical energy I’ve been putting every evening into my electronics. I went to bed much earlier and with a much quieter mind.