Needles Outpost to Hwy 95 to Hanksville Resupply (Sections 3 and 4): 103.7 miles
Peekaboo Trail • The Joint • Butler Wash • Fable Valley • Young’s Canyon • Dark Canyon • Sundance Trail • Hite • Red Benches • Dirty Devil
Leaving Needles Outpost at dawn, we set our sights on some alternate routes through Canyonlands National Park so we could experience the bread and butter of what makes this place so spectacular.
However, getting to those beginnings still meant gaining every mile on foot, not driving to a convenient parking lot here. After several miles of soft sand and wash, we finally arrived. Petroglyphs decorated the sandstone walls, some of them probably left by the ancestral villages hundreds or more of a thousand years ago and we even had a stretch of actual singletrack. A rare luxury.
Immediately, the trail presented us with a challenge: a climb up a 15-foot ladder with fully loaded backpacks. Let’s just say my calves were burning after that.
What followed were some of the most impressive views of the Needles District, those iconic multicolored spiers formed from Cedar Mesa Sandstone, shaped by millions of years of erosion. We spent the day weaving in and out of canyons and even crossed a section that Lane and I had hiked in 2020. It was surreal to return, this time stronger and with more desert travel experience.
If you’re ever backpacking into the Needles District, I recommend camping at Chesler Park and exploring from there. After passing through Chesler Park, we took an alternate route through one of the park’s longest slot systems, The Joint, a deep, narrow fracture in the rock formed by tectonic stresses rather than water erosion. It was a blast to sail and the perfect end to an already incredible day.
The next morning we started before dawn and headed down Butler Wash. This section is known for its pouring obstacles. I had a lot of fun with the three of us who met. Most required removing their backpacks and carefully using handholds to climb onto the benches above.
In the heat of midday, we reached the plateau and began a cross-country advance toward the water. We like to schedule meals with water sources, filter while we eat, rest while we hydrate. The spring we found wasn’t exactly what we expected, but we were grateful: a spring that dripped constantly and took about 10 minutes to fill two liters at a time.
After lunch and a solid rehydration, we headed towards the Fable Valley Trailhead to camp. Finding a place to camp took some care, this desert is covered in cryptobiotic soil, a living crust that can take decades to recover if disturbed. We stuck to washes, tracks, and durable surfaces, and finally found a spot beneath the stone pines, whose needles made a soft, natural bed.
At dawn, we enter the canyon for a quiet walk and enjoy spring water.
What we didn’t anticipate was the brutal assault necessary to get out.
“Fable Valley” sounds whimsical, but in reality it is steep, thick and unforgiving. Lane and I worked together to find routes ledge by ledge, picking our way through brush and scrambling over overflows. Lihat juga asi8sz. It was rewarding to navigate this together and communicate our ideas for a safe route, forcing us to move deliberately and always keep an alternative option in mind.
With Fable behind us, we turned our attention to two legendary sections: Young’s Canyon and Dark Canyon. We had heard about them for years. It felt surreal to finally be there.
Young’s Canyon was partially marked by cairns (rock piles), which helped us avoid a massive rainfall. My least favorite section was a steep descent of scree, loose rocks, and sand constantly shifting underfoot, but it only lasted a few feet into the descent. At one point, a rock gave way beneath me and I slid down. I jumped and warned Lane as I fell below.
At the bottom we find running water and shade, perfect for a reset before continuing. But Young’s did not let up. It required constant detours, water crossings and climbs around huge overflows. Robust, overgrown and wild, but absolutely otherworldly. And we hadn’t even gotten to Dark Canyon yet.
Just before sunset, we reached the confluence of Young’s Canyon and Dark Canyon. There we saw two campers on a lush island surrounded by running water, an oasis in every sense.
It turned out they were two Hayduke hikers whose tracks we had followed from Arches, called Criag and Andy. They have been stocking up on food and water along the route, so there was no need for them to go to many of the normal places that many of us depend on, like Tom at Adventure Camp to resupply water. We share stories and beta tests before bed.
The next morning, while we were packing, I realized that my umbrella and bottle of Sawyer were missing. My heart sank, especially with the record heat in Utah and knowing what awaited me in this section.
Without hesitation, Lane grabbed his trekking poles and said he would follow our steps to the overgrown brush we traversed yesterday at the end of the day.
Twenty minutes later, he reappeared above the camp, apparently empty-handed until he unbuttoned his jacket and pulled out his umbrella. I ran and hugged him excitedly and couldn’t believe how lucky I was to get this item back and that Lane went and retraced our steps. Let’s go ahead and say it: Lane is the best.
The rest of the day in Dark Canyon was like walking along nature’s sidewalk, lush, shaded, and lined with running water. The canyon is one of the largest in southeastern Utah, cutting deeply through layers of sandstone and creating a rare desert ecosystem with hanging gardens and constant springs.
We passed countless swimming holes.
At 300 miles, Dark Canyon easily ranks in my top three places in Hayduke so far.
But beauty has a cost. Our outing on the Sundance Trail was a 1,900-foot climb up a ~50° talus slope, in the heat of the day, during a record-breaking heat wave.
We prepared as best we could: a long lunch, a swim in the cool water, washing clothes, and packing full loads of water (5 liters each).
Even so, the climb was brutal. I began to feel nauseous and shivering despite the heat, clear warning signs of the danger of the heat. We moved slowly, taking breaks in the shade behind the rocks, Lane constantly checking to make sure I was okay and taking breaks as needed.
At the top, we sat under a tree and demolished peanut butter M&Ms, normally reserved for dessert, but much needed at the time.
After recovering, we moved up a dirt road towards the camp.
The next morning, refreshed, we continued toward the Colorado River and the Hite Bridge to retrieve our water tank. Along the way, a friendly family camping in an RV gave us ice-cold root beer, Capri Suns, and even took our trash and the magic of the trails at its finest.
Pro tip: If you ever see hikers, offer to take their trash. It makes a big difference.
At Hite, we loaded up a gallon each and headed toward the Red Benches, a remote, elevated expanse of slippery rocks and desert mesas overlooking the drowned canyons of Lake Powell.
Before reaching them, we tackle a climb to a class IV chimney. Lane went first, carrying the backpacks with a rope, and I followed his route. These moments always feel like a puzzle we solve together and you feel very rewarded after achieving the climb.
At the top, we followed the old Cowboy Trail marked by large cairns, some nearly nine feet high, historically used by ranchers who navigated this vast terrain.
We found a beautiful campsite hidden in a side canyon and watched the sunset.
The next day the Dirty Devil River arrived.
After completing the rolling terrain of the Red Benches, we descended into Fiddler Cove, steep, cairn-filled, and surrounded by towering rock formations carved from ancient layers of sediment deposited more than 250 million years ago.
As we approached the Dirty Devil, I saw a swirl of dust swirl across the desert, which was fitting, given the name. Lane saw a fox walking away quickly. Both seemed like signs that something wild was coming.
We crossed the river several times, dodging quicksand and getting our feet wet. At one point, Lane looked like she wanted to sleep hard for a nap in the shade, her most exhausting day yet.
The Dirty Devil lived up to its name, very muddy, open and exposed, water murky and dusty.
When we reached Poison Springs Canyon, we were ready to end up with wet feet. We climbed towards a reliable spring and found a hidden camp nearby, already dreaming of the food of the city.
The final miles to Highway 95 gave us our first views of the Henry Mountains, the last mapped mountain range in the lower 48 states, famously studied by geologist Grove Karl Gilbert in the 19th century.
They looked attractive… but we had no idea what they had in store for us.
On the highway, we waited among about 20 cars before we were finally picked up by two guys who had just finished floating the Dirty Devil. Normally I feel bad about being dirty and smelly when I hitchhike, but these guys were just as dirty as us.
From that moment on, the only thing we could think about was food. We had heard rumors about a great Mexican place in Hanksville. It’s time to find out.
