Earlier this year I hiked part of the middle portion of Eagle Canyon and last weekend I returned to hike the rest of it. On that prior trip I hiked up-canyon to a slot section below a big pouroff, and this time I hiked from the Eagle Canyon bridges on I-70 down-canyon to the pouroff. That still leaves a quarter-mile section in the middle between the pouroff and the slot that I haven’t hiked and probably never will. I parked on the shoulder of I-70 at the west end of the westbound bridge, which I was a little nervous about. During the hike I was anxious about whether I’d return to find the truck towed away or vandalized, but everything was fine when I returned. I hiked down a now washed-out access road that was used during bridge construction and within a matter of minutes I was already in the canyon bottom. It had rained heavily during the previous two days and the watercourse was full of mud ripples and pools, washing out most of the vehicle tracks.
Westbound bridge
Edge of Eagle Canyon
Old construction access road
Below the bridges
I walked down the canyon checking out overhangs and cliffs and alcoves. I’ve driven this part of the canyon a couple of times but never took the time to look this closely. In one alcove I saw a few artifacts: a metate, potsherd, and a primitive drinking vessel. In a short while I reached the spot where the road leaves the canyon and I crossed the wilderness boundary.
Small alcove
Potsherd
Metate
Bud Light bottle in the alcove
Maybe this was a pictograph?
Another view of the alcove
Danny Chynoweth 3/91
Hiking down the canyon
Wilderness boundary
I was expecting the mud deposited by the flooding to be slippery and mucky but instead it was firm and easy to walk on. Seeing a 1931 inscription by Warren Allred was no surprise–he’s probably the most prolific name inscriber in the San Rafael Swell and particularly in this area. On the same cliff were the names Hy Jensen and Rulen Dahl (not pictured here–the lighting was poor and my photos didn’t turn out well) but they were clearly in the same script as Warren’s name, complete with the backward letter N. Maybe they couldn’t write and Warren scratched their names in? There were several more alcoves, most of them with soot-stained ceilings. Near one was a single small pictograph. I hiked up all the larger side canyons and poked around.
Rippled watercourse
Warren Allred 1931
Happy birthday!
Mud and a pool
Low alcove
Sooty ceiling
Tiny pictograph
Tiny pictograph
Another small alcove
Fremont’s mahonia
Butte on the canyon rim
Cross carving
Head of a side canyon
Mouth of the side canyon
Open part of the canyon
I only ever saw one other bit of rock art, a single inscribed and weathered glyph. One short side canyon had some alcoves that were up high, with some logs propped against the cliffs below to aid in climbing up, but it was too sketchy for me to attempt. One massive section of cliff had detached from the bedrock and had slid down, leaving a crack behind it. I couldn’t climb up one side but I went around to the other and made it up inside, finding only a couple of modern inscriptions.
Incised glyph up high
Several alcoves
High alcoves
Tree used to climb into an alcove
Big crack
Other side of the crack
Danny Daley 5-1997
D.D. 1997, T. Winn
Farther down the canyon I found some older and quite remarkable writings. An undated T.A. inscription was probably left by Tom Allred who also left his full name and the year 1899 down the canyon below the pouroff. The initials R.S., J.S., and G.S. are from the Swasey family, written in 1933-1934. I found out from somebody after this trip that in the same area I missed an inscription that read “Pony Boys Inn,” apparently referring to a camp spot used by the Swaseys.
P.M. and T.A. (probably Tom Allred)
C.S. (probably Charlie Swasey)
Rough Riders ’96
R.S., J.S., and G.S., 1933 and 1934 (Royal, Joseph, and Grand Swasey)
I continued and explored one last side canyon before reaching a short section of slot canyon above the big pouroff. About as far down as one can go on the right side (looking down-canyon) above the pouroff was an inscription from (presumably) 1990. I know on the left side of the canyon you can proceed along a bypass that will take you below the pouroff but I didn’t feel like going that far.
Long pool
Almost to the pouroff
Rock pillar
Slot above the big pouroff
Log wedged in the slot
Side canyon above the pouroff
Above the pouroff
H.H., Dec. 12, ’90
I turned around and hiked back out, this time taking the most direct route instead of bouncing back and forth between cliffs and exploring side canyons. It took about one-third as much time to get back to the bridges as it had taken me to hike in to the pouroff, and my mileage going out was probably half that going in. When I got to the wilderness boundary and road I only saw one set of tire tracks since the previous days’ flooding, from an ATV that had crossed the canyon perpendicularly going between Secret Mesa and Justensen Flats. Nobody had driven through the canyon bottom yet. There was, however, one set of boot tracks going from there up toward the bridges, which was surprising to me. I’m always curious who else is out there doing the same kinds of things as me, although these tracks simply went straight up the watercourse rather than along any of the cliffs so whoever it was may have just been out for a scenic walk rather than looking for historic/prehistoric stuff. Back at the truck my GPS had recorded 11.4 miles total, which I know is a bit exaggerated because of the poor signal from being close to the cliffs and ducking into alcoves. It was probably closer to 10.5 miles. It was a productive hike but I had actually expected to find more than I did. I’m sure upper Eagle Canyon will provide many more trips of worthwhile exploring when I get around to it.
Mud and water
Butte and a huge pine tree
Fresh tracks
Climbing back up the access road
Truck parked at the bridges
Photo Gallery: Eagle Canyon: Bridges to the Pouroff