Knowing when to turn back
Tuesday, September 22, 2020 at 09:28AM 
Shafer Road from the rim of Island in the Sky, Canyonlands National Park, Utah
It's hard to know when you are being brave or just being stupid.
"You really should do the scenic Highway 279 drive from Moab to Canyonlands Park. It's amazing!" promised a fellow hiker on our road trip to Utah. So after completing a couple of hikes in nearby Arches National Park late one morning, we headed up 279 on a lovely drive that followed the Colorado River.
The road was great and views were good until we got to Potash. There the state highway ended and the Potash Trail began - 17 miles of dirt track. The posted sign read "4-wheel drive vehicles highly recommended." But we decided to test out the trail for at least a little way. We could always turn back, we rationalized.
Oh, we were driving, not an SUV, but a Toyota Prius without much clearance. And that did not have a spare tire.
For the first couple miles, by driving slowly and carefully over rocks, bumps, and through small ditches, we did fine. And despite being flagged down by a couple drivers (in big ass trucks) going in the opposite direction and being warned "You'll never make it in that car" and "Boy, you've got guts!", we continued on. How much worse could it get? It can't be much farther to the park.
As the road continued, the hill grades got steeper, the rocks got bigger, the ruts deeper. I eased the car over a couple steep rock drop-offs, wincing as I expected to hear the oil pan scrape the road. I kept the wheels on the highest points of the trail, moving ever more slowly, protecting the bottom of the car. "This road has to end soon," I kept thinking to myself. An hour passed.
On the side of the road, we finally met a fellow who was able to give us directions. We were about six miles from a T intersection where we would meet Shafer Road. "If you turn left, you will be on a 116 mile road just like the one you are on now that will dead end. If you turn right, you will have about five miles of very steep switchbacks that will take you to the Islands in the Sky portion of Canyonlands National Park," he informed us.
"Will this car make it?" I asked.
He shrugged.
We continued on with the road not getting better but not a whole lot worse. We saw a few jeeps and we keep repeating, "Turn right at the T. Turn right at the T."
In another half hour or so, we did come to the junction, where several off-roaders were parked chewing the fat. We turned right without asking for advice.
After another mile of bumpy, rutted road with some hills, we started our ascent of the butte. The road was better maintained, but it hugged the cliffs closely, often providing Heidi a straight down view of a few hundred feet from the passenger side window. I am happy to report that her knuckles regained their color after only a couple of days. The switchbacks were indeed very steep and the visibility around the corners was nil. But the only traffic we met was a gravel truck which kindly pulled off to the side, and let us pass. On the drop-off side.
Shafer Road as it hugs the lip of the cliffs.
So it was with a sigh of relief when at about 2pm, we finally hit the paved road that led into the national park, just outside the entrance.
While the drive, in retrospect, makes for a good memory and a good story (impossible to tell as dramatically as the event itself was), I wondered if we really should have turned back instead of continuing to push forward? How does one know when one has gone too far? Not just in driving, but in life directions.
Oh, in reading about the road that evening in the motel room, I saw that towing fees to get your car out of the canyon could run up to $1000. I'd guess AAA wouldn't cover my bravery - or my stupidity.
Reader Comments (3)
Kathy and I left the lodge on the Columbia River on an overcast morning after photographing and hiking Multnomah Falls the day before and decided the scenic route around Mt. Hood would be an excellent route for getting back to Portland. As we reached a certain elevation we ran into the snow - not just your "run of the mill" stuff but heavy snow that led to white-out conditions. Kathy of course asked the obvious question... "Jay, did you check the weather forecast?" "Hmmm..." I replied - and said "there might some light rain." Of course that forecast was for the river valley. Behind the wheel of a rental Chevy Malibu we began to see snow drifts of 25-30" or more with a ferocious wind and could no longer see except for faint truck tracks ahead, I heard from the passenger side of the car "should we turn back?" At some point I announced it was too late for that and with a death grip on the steering wheel we plowed ahead imagining that our bodies would be found under a snow drift after the late spring thaw. And then after what seemed to be an eternity we drove out of it and into light rain! Stupidity and luck won the day - and yes - it sure is a great story!!
We once drove down a road on the Colorado side of Dinosaur National Monument. The road contained multiple signs explaining the road was only able to be handled by 4 wheel drive vehicles. A historic marker explained pioneers use to hitch their horses to the back of their wagons to carefully inch down the road. My husband wanted to take this road, even though I thought we shouldn’t . We drove our rented Chevy four door very carefully, avoiding rocks, holes, and ruts. By driving slowly, my husband got us to the bottom of the canyon. It was amazing! We drove right up to the Green River, and eat our lunch on its banks. Driving out was another story. After driving through more blind switchbacks than I could count, we made it to the top of the butte. Once we were back on the highway, my husband said, “See, I told you we could do it!” I didn’t hit him, but I wanted to!
Hi Jay,
I think your experience was scarier than mine!
Doug
Good one, Marcia. At least you were in a rental car. I was driving my friend's car! If she wanted to hit me, she didn't mention.
Thanks for the story,
Doug