537 - Leprechaun Canyon
Today I explored a charming Irish landscape known as Leprechaun Canyon.
But I wasn’t in Ireland, and quite frankly, I couldn’t be further from it. I’m talking Utah, middle of the desert, 103°F. If I was seeing leprechauns, it meant I was having a heat stroke.
One thing you should know before I dive into this is that I did minimal research on this place. A truly amateur mistake. I’ve only done two slot canyons before in my life, and both involved a simple walk-in walk-out maneuver. Therefore, I assumed all slot canyons were like this. I never considered that they could actually have, you know… slots.
So after walking a mile in the scorching heat, I arrived at a canyon entrance that I didn’t quite expect. About three feet above my head dangled a neon orange rope that was about 2 cm thick. It had two loops in it, about two feet apart each, and went up into darkness.
My first instinct was excitement. My second instinct was the stark realization that there was no way in fuck I was going to be able to climb that thing.
Even if I could miraculously get up with my camera, backpack, and massive plastic tripod (don’t ask,) getting down was a whole different story. There had to be another way in besides this ridiculously advanced maneuver. I backed out of the cave and looked around.
Perhaps I could drop into the canyon from above… A massive rock towered next to me, and I mapped out a pathway to the top. It looked steep and dangerous, but I somehow convinced myself that it was just an optical illusion.
I started up the boulder, and thought back to my younger days. I’d always had an interest in supernatural creatures. Leprechauns, as I recalled, were born out of 19th century Irish folklore. They were known pranksters, and were a subset of the fairy family. Yet, they were different in that they were solitary creatures, and spent much of their time raining havoc on unsuspecting victims. It was a common act of revenge to capture a leprechaun and take its gold, in exchange for the mischief enacted upon you…
Suddenly I realized this rock was getting near vertical. This wasn’t going to work. I sighed and began my descent back to baseline. It was time to rethink this entire thing.
As I strolled aimlessly along the path, I began to think I might have missed a turnoff. Despite having done absolutely no research on this place, I’d seen enough photos of “plump” people inside to know that you didn’t need to climb a wall to get in.
And like clockwork, a turnoff appeared about 100 feet back. How did I miss that? This damn heat was getting to me. I was sweating like an un-naked mole rat.
Minutes later I entered the actual canyon. Smooth gradient walls began to rise from the sand, and a warm golden light illuminated the way. Before I knew it, I was in a full blown cavern. Now we’re talking.
The only problem was that there was way too much light because the sun was passing directly through the cracks above. I needed that soft, warm glow- not harsh sunlight. Just my luck. Well… I’ll get a photo on the way out.
I proceeded forward, and after about 5 minutes I noticed the canyon was getting narrower by the second.
The pathway condensed to a width of about 3 feet, and then disappeared around a dimly lit corner after about 40 feet. Did I want to see what was around that corner? No. Did I start shuffling through anyway? You bet your sweet ass.
I quickly realized that walking sideways while holding a backpack in one hand was a fairly good workout. I also realized that I’d never been in such a small space in my life. So for two reasons, my heart began to pick up its pace.
You see, I’m not strictly speaking a claustrophobic person. But when you’re alone in a hot desert canyon hours away from civilization, your mind starts to have a little fun.
Have you ever seen that film 127 Hours? The one where the dude gets his arm stuck in a rock in the middle of nowhere and has to cut it off to survive? Yeah, that was filmed in this exact canyon.
Suddenly I imagined myself getting trapped, and a shockwave of anxiety ran through my veins. I looked forward and back, and all I could see in either direction was thin slot. Alright, I need to calm down. I scooched forward a little more, and turned my head into a ray of light.
About 3 inches from my face was a cluster of 300+ spiders. I let out a blood-curdling scream that theoretically should have scared the spiders off. But it didn’t.
A spider swiftly emerged on my shoulder, then another one crawled on my calf. Then my whole body started to tingle. You want to talk about mind games? Yeah, my head started having a field day.
I never shuffled so fast in my life. By the time I got out of that unholy tunnel of terror, my heart was pounding faster than a dog in heat. My hands immediately ran across my entire body, and I brushed off every square inch of my skin. I shivered. What was that?
It felt like a scene straight out of a horror movie. And I’m not even a guy that’s scared of spiders. I owned a pet tarantula for years back in university. But that many in one space? You’d have to be a god to maintain composure.
I picked my camera up off the ground, and looked at it. A thought slowly crawled into my mind, against my will.
It’s a strange phenomenon when you know you have to do something, but it scares you beyond reason. A rare moment of uttermost clarity in life, shadowed by sheer horror.
Before I could think about it, I launched myself right back into that slot. This was a trick I learned from cliff jumping in Colorado a few years back- the more you think about something, the worse it gets. Best to jump early.
An eerie calm encompassed my body as I crawled back to the land of spiders, and I felt not so different from their own delicate dance.
I spotted a well-lit cluster and snagged a shot:
“Leg Swarm”
Taken with Sony a7rIII + Sony 50mm f/1.8
[ISO 6400 ~ 50mm ~ f/5 ~ 1/100s]
(Want a Print? Get one here.)
In all, there were probably at least three dozen of those clusters (that I could see) near the end of the slot. They seemed to travel in packs….
Pure nightmare fuel.
I got out of there and made my way back to the golden cavern at the entrance. By now, the sun had crossed the gap and I was left with a warm, quiet landscape.
But the spiders were still creeping around my mind. As I lined up the shot, I couldn’t help but notice stark lines on the cave walls, leading themselves to the light like twisted webs:
“Ember Spark”
Taken with Sony a7rIII + Sony 12-24mm f/4 G
[ISO 1600 ~ 12mm ~ f/9 ~ 1/200s]
(Want a Print? Get one here.)
It was at that moment that I realized the leprechaun of the canyon had run its course on me. I’d been tricked into that hellish slot, then rewarded with a sunlit pot of gold.
I guess I should have seen it coming. But then again, I never considered Utah’s sick interpretation of the Irish tale would involve blistering heat, claustrophobia, and clusters of long-legged arachnids.
Next time give me a sham-rock or something. Oh wait. Goddamn it.
I’m on a mission to explore as much as humanely possible.
Want to see my progress? Check out the Adventure Map.
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