Hiking The Keet Seel Trail - Pt 1

By Adam Benson

The Way it Started

Wednesday morning started with a hectic bunch of phone calls that began pouring in about an hour before I got up. I already had a pretty full plate for the rest of the week, but now I was suddenly being asked to bid on a job that required me to up and drop everything for a six and a half hour drive to Gallup, New Mexico. I had a couple of bombs to defuse. My girlfriend Michelle was in Sacramento and needed to get picked up from the airport the next day. We have a cat that needs daily doses of medicine; I'd have to find someone to administer the cat-juice. I had two jobs that needed to be finished by Friday. I had a teaching gig that I had just accepted that I'd have to re-schedule the orientation for. And the trash needed to be taken out. I spent all morning making all the pieces fall in place only to lose the bid to a kid willing to work for almost nothing.

I decided the best thing I could do after all this excitement would be to call up the Navajo National Monument and see if I could get a couple of last minute permits to hike the Keet Seel Trail just about a half an hour away from where the shoot I would have been working was going to be taking place. It wasn't all out of the blue, understand; Michelle and I had been loosely discussing taking a short camping trip that coming weekend, just to get out of town for a while. It suddenly occurred to me that we could turn the vague possibility of camping into a full-on weekend adventure. After all, I had spent the entire morning making all kinds of arrangements and last minute plans, why stop at business, when a little weekend pleasure could easily be thrown into the mix.

The Keet Seel trail lies just south of Monument Valley off of highway 160 in the heart of the Navajo Nation. Keet Seel is one of the best preserved cliff dwelling ruins in Arizona. It was originally populated from about 950 CE until sometime in the 1300s. As a lifelong history buff and wannabe amateur archeologist I had been eyeballing the Keet Seel trail in my Top 100 Trails in Arizona guide for some time. This was like a short-term dream come true for me. Even though I was making my permit request on very short notice, we had chosen a weekend in which not much would be going on, and so the good people of the Navajo National Monument gave us the OK. I had the next three days to pull my backpacking gear out of retirement and get everything we needed ready for the trip.

It was Friday morning. I had retrieved Michelle from the airport the night before and we both had a lot of things to finish up for the week and thus spent the entire morning trying to simultaneously prepare for a long weekend and get everything done that needed to get done. Michelle had a lot of planning and organizing to get done for the following week. I had some jobs to finish up and a backpacking trip to finish planning. My hope was to make it out of town no later than about one o'clock.

Two thirty Friday afternoon our trip began. We had a six hour drive ahead of us. I had put together a large collection of music for the trip, which was good because there were three or four traffic jams that blocked our exit from Phoenix. We made our way north up I-17 through the Prescott valley, past Sedona, into Flagstaff, through the Coconino National Forest, up alongside the Grand Canyon and into the Painted Desert. The road grew dark as the sun went down in the canyons and valleys; they meandered around through the darkness for another one hundred miles before we finally made our destination.

Getting There

Our spirits were very high when we pulled into the Navajo National Monument, Canyon View Campground. The first thing we did when we pulled in was pull the packs out of the trunk and dig around for the lanterns and flashlights that would assist us in setting up the tent and getting the bed ready. At first we tried using the car's headlights to illuminate our work area, but they were set on a short timer and kept going off. It ended up not inhibiting us at all. The headlamps we carried and the camp lantern did their job and the moon, even though it was only half full, shone brightly enough to see everything clearly. So, we set up our tent in a soft sandy spot just a few feet from the picnic table. It had occurred to us on the road that the night sky would be a cornucopia of stars and galaxies. The first thing I did when I got out of the car was to peer up into the sky. When I lived in Alaska we had the most amazing skies. You could see every star, the Milky Way, billions of galaxies... I haven't seen that kind of sky since then. That is, until I got to Keet Seel. For the first time in ages I could see the Milky Way! No light pollution! In fact, there was no sign of a city anywhere. No distant glow, no sound of traffic.... Very few planes... It was magnificent.

We decided to go for a walk to get to know our camp grounds. We brought a light but we didn't really need it. The moon was plenty bright enough for us to see. Sharp shadows and shades of deep blue guided our way through the sound of crickets and nothing else. We walked back down the road that we had taken to get to our camp site and turned down the road toward the trailhead of the Keet Seel. The area was fenced off with a single cable fence that we were able to step over easily. On the other side was a volcanic wash. It was smooth and flat with grooves that had been cut by the rains running off the cliff for centuries. We walked around on this strange table, examining our surroundings in the near dark. We followed the natural rock drains that led to the edge of the cliff. From there all we could see was blackness and the shape of trees that guarded the canyon from our view. We decided to go back to our camp for the night.

I woke up to a cool morning and the bright light of the sun creeping up over the horizon and through the trees. To my amazement the dark pit that I had seen over the cliffs the night before turned into a brilliant display of red canyon walls, green trees and glowing blue skies. It was incredible! We had a little over an hour to get some breakfast and tear down the camp and get to the ranger station for our orientation. Or so I thought.

We knew that the Navajo reservation was one of the only places in Arizona that still uses the archaic daylight savings time system. Most of Arizona had stepped out of the time-zone stone age and had learned to keep their clocks the same all year round. Thus, we had to compensate in our heads for the change in time. I looked at my watch. It read about 5:30, which should have been about 6:30 Navajo time. We had to be at the Ranger Station by 8:00. I checked my cell phone. It read 6:30. I thought to myself, "hhhmmm. My phone must have switch to Daylight Savings Time. Cool." So, we slowly got around and finally got out of our bed. I set up the camp stove and started cooking a delicious breakfast of oatmeal and hot cocoa. At about 6:20 by my watch and 7:20 by my cell phone we started tearing down the camp and packing it all back into the backpacks. By about 6:45 by my watch and 7:45 by my cell phone we got into the car and started driving to the Ranger station. The ranger station was about a mile away and we drove behind the slowest guy ever to drive a Range Rover on a paved road in the forest. We got to the station right at 7:00 by my watch and 8:00 by my cell phone, and by the clock in the car. We stepped inside... all the clocks in the Ranger station said 9:00. Confusion set it. This was not our first piece of bad news.

Earlier, while we were cleaning up from breakfast and starting to pack all the gear into the backpacks I noticed that Michelle's pack was soaking wet. She was carrying the food and a good portion of our water, so the soaking wet backpack was a bit of an issue. Fortunately the food bag itself is relatively water resistant and most of our food was in waterproof pouches. Unfortunately while we were packing up we discovered that the bladder in the camel-pack had leaked almost completely empty and drenched her pack. We had several other bottles of water, but the loss of this main supply was a bit concerning. I felt at the time that we probably had enough; we just needed to be careful with what remained.

So, back in the ranger station: We had to go through a quick orientation and get our permit for the trail. No problem. After about a ten minute run through of all the important information we would need for the nearly 9 mile hike through the canyon we went back out to the lobby where Michelle had noticed that they were selling bottled water. Great. We bought three additional bottles of water and got back in the car to drive back to the trailhead. We parked our car at the Keet Seel parking lot, where we had been exploring the night before.

At last we got our packs on and started down the beautiful trail. It was about 9:30 Navajo time, which was 8:30 by my phone and 7:30 by my watch. Confusing I know, but it was an important detail that ended up being one of the detriments of our trip. The first mile went by like it wasn't even there. Every step of the way was filled with new incredible sights. The air was so fresh and smelled pure, clean, unrefined. The sun had risen high enough to make all the colors in the canyon pop. Everything looked like some great painting. So far, this hike was freaking awesome!

About a mile and half in we came to the "official" trail head. This marked the beginning of the descent into the canyon and the start of the switchbacks that would take us one thousand feet down into the canyon. There were two sections to the switch backs. The first half went down steeply over a natural and manmade stone staircase. We passed by all kinds of incredible rock formations and amazing vistas. We passed by a natural stone arch. We came across astonishing views of the river that cut through the rocks below us. The walk down was strenuous, but nothing we couldn't handle.

The second half of the switchbacks began after a short straight away that took us deeper into the canyon. After our laborious descent to the half-way mark we stopped for a break to get some water and a little bit of beef jerky. I took off my nearly 80 pound backpack and got out my maps and compass. It seemed like a great opportunity to really get our bearings, figure out how far we had come, and how far we had to go. It was also at this juncture that Michelle realized that she had already lost her towel.

The hitch-hiker's guide to the galaxy says that, "A towel is about the most massively useful thing an interstellar hitchhiker can have". This holds mostly true for regular hikers as well. Among other things, one of its important uses is to wipe the sweat off your face when you start to burn up and your shirt is already soaked to the bone. It was most unfortunate that she lost her towel. After getting our bearings and a little bit of water, we started back down the trail on the second set of switchbacks.

The next set of switchbacks was steeper than the first and was nothing by deep sand. Every step you took all of your weight slipped out from under you and you started sliding down the canyon wall. About halfway down both of our legs were shaking from the strain and our thigh muscles were getting stiff. The sun was making its way overhead and we were coming out of the protection of the trees. At least the view was amazing.

Trouble Ahead

By the time we reached the bottom our legs were Jell-o. I knew it would wear off after we started walking, but it did get us thinking about our futures. If this was how the trail began, then the climb up that nightmare would be how the trail ended. At least that would be the end of the trail tomorrow, we thought.

The bottom of the canyon was like a cross between a meadow, a river bed, and the sandy bottom of a canyon. We began trudging along. The ranger had told us that at one point we would actually have to walk through the river, twice, to continue following the trail. I guess it didn't really sink in until we got to the river. It was more of a wide stream, but I suppose we were expecting it to mostly be a mostly dried, muddy creek bed. It was certainly not dry. It wasn't terrible, only about ankle deep, but we soon discovered that Michelle's boots were not water proof. Once we got on the other side we had to walk across a bit of a delta that led toward the arm of the canyon that we would be following for the remainder of the hike. The stream meandered around the delta and crossed right into our path again. So, once again we trudged through it. Michelle's boots were soaking wet. She didn't complain and had resolved herself to having wet boots. My thoughts were that it was hot enough out that the sun and the walk would quickly dry them out.

We walked and we walked. Sometimes our path lead us into more of the deep sand and our boots sank and caused our steps to drag. It was like every time we took a step the sand dragged us back a half a step. It was almost as if we were trudging uphill again, but on flat ground. Our already shaky legs really started to strain pushing through the sandy areas. It was around this time that Michelle first mentioned the pain in her knee.

The two places that we had to cross the stream were only the beginning. The ranger had failed to mention that we would be walking back and forth across the stream for the entire length of the canyon. The water meandered back and forth in our path, so that we were constantly going from grassy path, to walking through the sticky, muddy river, directly into the thick rolling sands. So, Michelle's boots not only didn't dry out, they were constantly being re-applied with fresh muddy water.

Now, the water was a bit of a problem. This canyon was the home to a large number of wild horses, cattle and sheep. So, you couldn't drink it because it was constantly being contaminated with horse, cow and sheep excrement, as well as all the other desert creatures that frequented that water supply. Plus, we had all been trudging through it all day and we certainly weren't the only ones one the trail. On the flip side, we were quickly starting to realize that our own water supply, already dented by the loss of the camel-pack bladder, was getting used up faster than we anticipated in the hotter than we anticipated sun. I had checked the weather before we left, and the forecast for the weekend was somewhere in the 90s... up on top of the canyon. What we didn't know was that the down in the canyon the temperature was over 10 degrees hotter. We were starting to burn up.

We had made it almost four miles up the canyon arm. By this time our bodies were starting to feel the strain of what we had gotten ourselves in to. The view was amazing; absolutely beautiful. The terrain was a little more distracting. While trudging through more of the inhibiting sand we were suddenly confronted by an SUV. We stopped and watch as the white truck bounced and bumped its way down the sandy trail toward us. As we stood there waiting for it to pass we both started to realize how drained we were. The sun, the sand, the heavy packs on our backs; it was all very accumulative. The truck pulled up beside us and the window rolled down. It was an old Navajo man in ranger attire. He didn't say much but told us that we had a little less than four miles left and then he drove off. We started wondering how he got that truck down there at all.

We pushed on, taking more and more breaks as we went along. By now the sun was directly overhead and we started to feel very, very drained. Not just physically. Our water supply was dwindling faster than we cared to admit since the sun had begun sucking the moisture right out of us. My lips were constantly chapped and the trail seemed to go on and on. As we walked, we passed the four and a half mile marker. The ranger had under-exaggerated. We weren't as far as we thought.

About an hour and mile later we stopped to take a break. It was a much needed break. Most of our stops had been short little bits where we'd get a drink of water and a bite of jerky and get back on the trail. This break was a serious stop. We sat on the ground worn out and drinking as much water as we could conservatively. We had about three and a half bottles left, not nearly enough to finish our day. It was at this juncture that we started to realize the trouble we were in. The sun was scorching us, we were almost out of water and there was absolutely no one around for miles. To top it off, Michelle's knee was really starting to bother her. We started to discuss emergency plans; one of which included ditching the packs and hauling as much ass as possible to the ranger station at the far end of the trail. I seriously didn't want to leave my pack behind.

We sat there recouping for about twenty minutes. When I got up in noticed the first signs of heat stroke. My head got light, I felt dizzy and nearly fell over. I felt constantly out of breath. The combination of the higher elevation (we were up in a much higher elevation than Phoenix, even though we were down in a canyon), the hot air and the lack of water was beginning to take its toll. Michelle started getting worried when I almost fell over. I took my time and recovered. I took another drink of precious water and a few deep breaths before putting my pack back on. We had to make it to the Keet Seel ruins. Not just because it was our original goal, but also because it was our only hope of some help.

The Waterfall

The sandy ground and the walking through water constantly slowed us down. By this time our spirits were really getting dampened, and not just because Michelle had wet shoes. We kept walking and pushing through the nature. At some point in time we were supposed to come upon a waterfall. We kept looking for it, listening for it and waiting to see it, but it didn't come. We were, however, coming up on ever increasing flows of water. And while it wasn't a water fall, there were a bit of rapids that we had come upon, which was a good sign. I finally decided that it would be in our best interest to stop for some lunch. The food would do us good. It was nearly 12:00 by my watch, 1:00 by my phone and 2:00 Navajo time. We stopped by a tiny little rapid water fall, not the one we were after, but certainly a bit of refreshment on our trip, and had a nice long lunch.

During our lunch we started discussing the idea that even if we got to the far end of the trail, made it to the ruins and got to the ranger station at the end, we were not in any condition to make it back out of the canyon. The hike alone would have wasted us, but there was the sandy climb up the 1000 foot switchbacks that we'd have to contend with once we got to the other end. I certainly didn't want to give up, but there was something else that was starting to convince me. About this time I was starting to notice a nice burning heat rash building up in my tender regions right between my legs. It wasn't bad yet, but it had the potential to get a lot worse.

We sat having lunch for about a half an hour. Michelle's knee had really started to hurt. The food and rest had been really rejuvenating. We had both taken our boots off and were wading around in the cool water. It felt so good. As we tried to relax and enjoy the beauties that surrounded us, we suddenly had a bit of good luck. Clouds rolled in over head and blotted out the sun. We both hoped that it would rain, but it never did. The shade was good enough. So, we put back on our boots and our packs, sore as we both were, and started back up the trail.

Happily, it wasn't long before we reached the two and a half mile mark and the waterfall we had been seeking for so long. There were three cows gently eating grass at the base of the falls. They were the first bit of hope we had come across in a while. The trail was supposed to run up the hill behind the falls, so we walked around and found the trail. It was much taller than it had looked in the orientation photograph. Much taller! And the best part was, it was all sand. We started to climb; one step forward, then slip half a step back in the deep sand. By this time, my eighty pound backpack, my growing heat rash, and sun burned dehydration were really starting to piss me off. This went on until we finally reached the top. This was where we met our first group of hikers. They were on the return trip, and told us that we only had about two mile remaining. We were in better spirits.

The rest of the two miles was almost entirely in the stream. I felt bad for Michelle since her feet were soaked this entire time. She was actually on her second pair of socks so far and her feet had been waterlogged for so long that her skin was badly pruned. As we walked up the canyon we started coming upon some bizarre rock formations. The canyon got narrower, and there were huge, three story tall boulders that were shaped like nearly perfect cubes lying in our path. They looked as though they had been sculpted; chiseled right out of the side of the canyon. The place where they had fallen from the canyon wall was just as square as the boulders themselves. There were three or four of these lying in our path. It seemed like a good place to take a breather.

As we sat on one of the perfectly angular rocks Michelle noticed a small bird flopping around in the stream. She pointed it out to me. I told her that birds will often get in the water to take a bath, but as I looked at it, this bird was being swept downstream. I started making my way back over to the stream just in time to see a small green hummingbird struggling in the water. I reached down and pulled her out. She sat on my hand looking just as drained and exhausted as we were. I had never held a hummingbird before. It was almost completely weightless. Its tiny wings were outstretched and drenched. I took the little bird back to the rock where we had been sitting and set her down. She looked like she had been ridden hard and put up wet so we left her there hoping that she would recover and make her way back up into the air again. A cow walked by us, almost out of nowhere while we sat there with the hummingbird. The cow looked at us as she passed, almost as if to say, "sorry, excuse me. Just passing through."