Lake Powell's Little-known Canyon

North to Lake Powell's Fascinating Cha Canyon

CHA CANYON, AS WE NOSED OUR BOAT INTO A BEACH COVE NEARLY HIDDEN BY NEWLY SPROUTED SALT CEDARS, DIDN'T LOOK VERY IMPRESSIVE ESPECIALLY WHEN COMPARED WITH THE MANY OTHER CANYONS THAT MAKE UP MAGNIFICENT LAKE POWELL.

In fact it didn't even resemble a canyon; it's more of a notch in the great red cliffs that make up the San Juan River portion of Lake Powell.

Maybe that's why Cha (pronounced chay) Canyon has gone so long without public notice except by a small group of lake explorers.

I've been all over the 186-mile-long lake from Wahweap to Hite and to the ends of the San Juan and Escalante river arms, and I know of no other canyon on the lake with such a variety of attractions. Cha Canyon has a live stream fed by snowmelt from 10,388-foot-high Navajo Mountain, two waterfalls, herds of wild horses and burros, groves of cottonwood trees, a beaver colony, an oasislike habitat of verdant riparian growth, and an outdoor art gallery that is overwhelming. The art is petroglyphs, ancient Anasazi depictions of creatures and symbols side by side with modern Navajo Indian chippings. Shortly after my companions and I, Phoenix residents Terry Heslin, his wife, Barbara, and Dale Wiggins, whose wife, Heidi, stayed behind to mind our boat, cleared the belt of salt cedars and entered the canyon proper, we found the first Navajo petroglyph. It was chiseled into a giant

Cha Canyon

sunburned boulder, one of the many great blocks of sandstone that had tumbled down from the cliffs above thousands of years ago.

The image was a remarkable illustration of an Indian pony, as startling in its hidden location as when I first saw it years ago. The six-foot-long intaglio showed a stallion with a white blaze on its forehead, the right foreleg raised in a lifelike pawing motion, and wearing a decorated Indian blanket instead of a saddle.

We grabbed for cameras, and after the photos the rush was on to find other glyphs. Everyone fanned out, examining the blackened sides of rocks for hidden drawings, and, like children on an Easter egg hunt, when we found one we cried out to each other to come look.

The petroglyphs, mainly the heads of horses, were all around, but scattered so that you really had to search for them. The unknown Navajo artist who made them was gifted, and his depictions, chipped into the desert varnish with some steel tool, were true to life and in perfect proportion. "Look at this one!" Dale called out. "This is the best one yet."

He was right. Across the creek, on a flat of ground studded with huge stones, was a drawing of a saddle horse and a mule whose back was loaded with a heavy pack. In between the two animals was a cowboyhatted man holding their reins.

But there were more.

Seemingly everywhere were ancient Anasazi petroglyphs. There were at least two sets of sandal petroglyphs or moccasinlike footprints carved into the rocks. They were the first of their kind that I had seen out of thousands of petroglyph sites I have visited.

Another first for me were what appeared to be animal tracks leading up the vertical face of one rock. One set I guessed to be rabbit tracks from their signature three-track print two front feet and overlap-ping hind feet. The other set of tracks could have been that of a fox as the small finger-nail-size carvings showed five-toed feet complete with pads.

Both track sets were obviously old, the stains of a new coat of desert varnish beginning to cover them.

On one rock there was a classic Anasazi image of a cornstalk next to a set of Navajo cattle brands.

But one of the most interesting petroglyphs was that of a supine Anasazi "monster man" extending his hand downward. From his index finger ran a straight line, like a bolt of lightning, directly to the curvedhorn head of a desert mountain sheep.

Most of the petroglyphs we found were within one mile of the lake. There may be others farther up the sides of the canyon, but we didn't have time to search for them. I'm not an expert, but I think the many Anasazi petroglyphs in Cha Canyon indicate that it was a popular route of travel for Native Americans of an earlier time living around the confluence of the Colorado and San Juan rivers.

Winters were probably spent in the lower warmer canyons near the rivers, and in spring, when temperatures started to increase, the Indians moved through Cha Canyon and up to pine-covered Navajo Mountain to spend the cool summers. Cha Canyon, with its abundant supply of fresh water and its open, flat terrain, invited leisurely trips with frequent pauses for petroglyph making.

There is an easily followed trail kept open and compacted by the hooves of wild horses and burros with gentle grades that lead up the bottom of Cha Canyon. Another canyon, about the same size as Cha, opens up to the left about a half mile above the lake. It appears to be waterless, although the large dry wash shows much evidence of flash flooding.

Here at the junction stands an extensive grove of cottonwood trees which have withstood the ravages of floods, droughts, and the attacks of hungry beavers.

Some of the stumps of trees felled by the beavers are three feet in diameter, a testimony to the power and tenacity of the critters. There were no beaver dams; beavers in the arid Colorado River drainages tend to build underground dens in the banks of streams. We found several entrances to such dens in the deeper pools of the stream.

Cha, incidently, means "beaver" in the Navajo language.

As we continued deeper into the canyon, the vegetation thickened and became more varied. I was struck particularly by the strange appearance of prickly pear cactuses. These plants, much smaller than those in southern Arizona, were covered by a strand of white "hair," and their flowers were green. Normally, prickly pear blossoms are pink, rose, or red.

Barbara, a habitat specialist with the Arizona Game and Fish Department, helped identify many of the plants: globemallow, deadly nightshade, Mormon tea, redbud, maidenhair fern, horsetail, Indian paintbrush, cliffrose, penstemon, and many more all in glorious colors.

There were numerous other plants and trees we couldn't identify with certainty, including several shrubs each a little different in appearance that had miniature intensely green leaves and whose limbs, when broken, emitted a pleasant aromatic scent, like after-shave lotion.

About a mile and a half from the lake, we came upon the first waterfall. The stream,

Cha Canyon

passing between two huge boulders above the falls, slips into a chute and down a twostage cliff about 30 feet high. The plunge pool at the bottom is about 45 feet across when full and can provide a refreshing swim after a hike in the warm summertime sun.

Had we a ladder, we could easily have climbed the falls. Instead I led up the right side to a talus slope where years before I had made a dangerous traverse across a slanting 60-foot cliff. This time erosion, or better sense, made me hesitate.

Barbara decided not to continue and walked back to the boat. Terry, Dale, and I wanted to go to the second falls, and we cast about for a safer route.

Dale, a civil engineer with long, slender arms and legs, began climbing, taking care not to knock loose the many boulders perched uneasily on the sandy talus. Some 100 feet up, he found the solution: a horse and burro trail. During the many years since their introduction, the animals had stomped a trail across the slope in their search for water and forage.

Terry and I climbed up to the trail, and I was chagrined to think that on my first visit to Cha I had risked my neck crossing the talus when this much safer route was just above.

Terry, the off-highway-vehicle program coordinator for Arizona State Parks, found a barrier fence across the trail made of beaver-felled cottonwood logs that Navajo herdsmen had laboriously hauled up from the canyon bottom. The Indians, who cull the horse herds from time to time, could close this barrier and trap the horses on the talus slopes, making their capture much easier.

From then on, it was an up and down hike. Sometimes the trail was in the creek bottom, sometimes on the slopes. About another mile up from the first falls, we found the second, a magnificent straightshot cascade of 40, maybe 45, feet.

We wanted to get above this one to find any evidence of the camp of John Wetherill, one of the discoverers of Rainbow Bridge. Wetherill called it Beaver Camp, and he used it for overnight stays when he guided early visitors cross-country to Rainbow Bridge. Among those pioneer tourists who slept there were President Teddy Roosevelt and Western novelist Zane Grey.

But our exploration was not to be. While we were at the base of the falls, we saw a lone burro come down the switchback Trail above us. No problem, we thought. Best of all, we had a new subject for photos. The burro, his hide scarred with fresh bite marks on his neck and his hair matted with mud, kept a leisurely pace until about 40 feet from us.

Then his whole appearance changed. His hair rose. His ears laid back. He opened his mouth to display yellow buckteeth, and he started screaming his distinctive hee-haw and charged us. We forgot all about taking his picture.

I have spent much of my life outdoors in Arizona and have never been charged by any of the hundreds of burros I have seen. I've never even been threatened by a Brahma bull.

But this burro, for unknown reasons, was intent on trampling or biting us.

Behind me I could hear my friends scattering. But there were no trees to climb, no rocks to hide behind. And I, being closest to the burro, knew I couldn't outrun it.

So I did the only thing I could think of: I swung my camera bag in circles above my head, screamed like a maniac, and charged my attacker.

At 10 feet, the burro put on the brakes, a truly astounded expression on his face. He leapt to one side, trotted off a dozen feet, and turned back, his hair subsiding and his ears perking, to look again at this strange two-legged creature which was fast approaching.

I didn't want the burro to have time to think about it. I yelled some more, picked up a baseball-size stone, and threw it in his direction. The burro got the message and trotted off to bother us no more.

We hurried off, too, not wanting to continue up the canyon on the narrow trail and risk a chance meeting with another burro acting like a jackass.

Scenic Video: Actor William Shatner narrates Lake Powell and the Canyon Country, an exciting Arizona Highways video that explores the countless coves and inlets of this water-recreation wonderland. The hourlong video also visits Lake Powell's scenic neighbors, including the Grand Canyon's North Rim, Monument Valley, Navajo National Monument, and Zion and Bryce Canyon national parks. The video in VHS format costs $29.95; VHS Pal European format, $32.95. To order, telephone tollfree (800) 543-5432. In the Phoenix area or outside the U.S., call (602) 258-1000.

WHEN YOU GO

Cha Canyon is located about 68 miles above Glen Canyon Dam on the San Juan Arm of Lake Powell and about 10 air miles north of the Arizona-Utah border. You can reach it from the Navajo Indian Reservation by hiking overland from Indian Route 16, but the easiest and most convenient way to get there is by boat from Wahweap Lodge and Marina at Page.

Although it is possible to reach Cha Canyon by boat in a single day, the journey does not leave much time for exploration. There are very limited beaches in the mouth of Cha Canyon on which to beach your boat, and most visitors camp in other canyons. Best bet is to use a houseboat from Wahweap as your base and then take a smaller runabout boat to Cha.

The author and his party stayed in Oak Canyon, 21 miles downlake from Cha and used a small boat to shuttle back and forth. Allow a full day to explore Cha, taking a lunch and something to drink.

The best time to visit the canyon if you wish to see the waterfalls and the stream at peak flow is in spring, roughly from March to May. Pools of water in the canyon remain all year, offering protection to the beaver population.

In summer, usually July through September, monsoon rains can cause flash flooding in Cha Canyon, and visitors should take safety precautions during these storms.

For information on boat rentals and lodging, contact Lake Powell Resorts & Marinas at 2916 N. 35th Ave., Phoenix AZ 85017-5261; toll-free (800) 528-6154, or 278-8888 in the Phoenix area. Contact the Glen Canyon National Recreation Area for information on hiking, camping, boating, and fishing, Box 1507, Page, Arizona 86040; (520) 645-2511 or 645-2471.