A Fantastical Place We Called Underwear Camp

It’s lunch time and as expected, the sun is high and intense. We are walking across a giant, ancient, petrified sand dune. Shade trees are few and far between, but we find one spot where we can get some reprieve while we lunch. The six of us scatter around finding what comfort and relief that we can.

It’s Day 2. We knew we would be on the rocks for most of this day. Specifically, we hope to camp on the rim of the canyon, on the sandstone, exposed to the sun, wind and whatever else the desert plans to throw at us. There is little rush in our pace. We know we will get there with plenty of time and the thought of sitting around baking in the sun drinking water out of a grimy, gritty pothole is anything but appealing.

That pothole, by the way, isn’t guaranteed. Satellite imagery shows it to be there most of the time, but this is the desert and water disappears. We are hopeful, but not entirely sure.

We take our time. Eating slowly, resting, enjoying shade, drawing in the sand. When it is obvious that there is nothing left to do but keep moving, we gather our things and head back out onto the rocks and into the sun.

As these things tend to go here at the Alliance, we found ourselves on this petrified dune thanks to the Planner. Within the Alliance, anyone can suggest a trip. You put out mileage, location and dates with loose expectations of how it is going to go. Our difficulty rating usually goes something like this, No Boats, No Ropes – That’s an easy one. Just Boats or Just Ropes – Midlevel. And then there’s the ultimate, Boats and Ropes – This means you are carrying everything you need for the trip and those needs include a boat and a rope. That’s a lot of weight.

It’s April Fool’s Day Weekend, if that’s a thing, it was for us this weekend as the Planner was calling his loop the Fool’s Loop. It fell squarely in the Just Ropes category and the Just Rope ended in my pack as I have the short static rope that we needed as a possible backup for a couple of our scrambles and the entrance into the last canyon off the aforementioned petrified dunes.

There was an added level of difficulty to this route, lack of beta. This was a route drawn up from the recesses of Shelby’s map searching. There were a couple of spots that we were pretty sure would go, but the information available to us at time of launch was minimal. We hoped that the rope would solve those problems for us. Each of these obstacles were either climbing out of a canyon or dropping in.

I just don’t want to cry on this trip

Shelby starts up the scramble with his pack on and as I watch him begin to climb, my anxiety rockets. It looks sketchy, especially with a pack on. He makes it about a third of the way up before deciding we need a different option and drops back into the slot canyon.

For us to continue, we need to get up and out of this slot. There is a giant pothole at the bottom of a pour-over. The pour over is big enough that jumping in could be a thing, but we all still remember the last swimming hole that was in full sun and have no desire to risk the drop, plus we need to be above it. This requires us to scramble up about 30 feet to a rocky bench that we can use to skirt the hole. From the bottom, the climb doesn’t look too bad, but it also doesn’t look easy.

As Shelby drops back into the canyon, I drop my pack and swing the rope over my shoulders. I’m nervous for sure, but there is nothing too sketchy and I just keep moving until I’m at the top. Someone had built an anchor and left it, probably repelling into the canyon going the opposite direction as we are. Kenny follows me up and then the two of us hoist packs up to the bench. Without the weight on our backs, the scramble is fairly straightforward, but I use the anchor and we setup a handline for everyone to use on their way up.

The entrance to this particular canyon was a little less dramatic, but not much less sketchy. We followed a break in the canyon that was traversed with sandstone benches covered in boulders. Starting at the top, we could not see directly where the route went, but we could see the couple hundred-foot drop should we fall. The trail slowly snaked its way down the canyon walls switch backing almost directly on top of itself. There was a collective sigh of relief as we stepped onto the flat sandstone at the bottom.

Seeming like it was placed as a reward, there is a giant pothole full of water. While the canyon bottom is mostly in the sun, our swimming hole is not. There’s some debate, but the consensus is that we are going to take a few minutes and enjoy this opportunity. I believe it was Cami who went in first, not that it matters, eventually we all went in and then Cami’s sunnies also went in not to come back out.

Underwear Camp

It’s midafternoon and it’s hot.

We’ve been walking and wandering and scrambling for most of the day. We are now nearing the rim of the canyon and looking for places to camp. A pothole with water is located with a flat spot that would work for our camp. We drop packs. Seeing that we are fully exposed to the sun, there isn’t much appeal to our current location. A few of us wander off in different directions to see what we can see while harboring the hope that maybe there is something better. Some of us wander up on the sandstone and some of us follow the waterway where the pothole we’ve already found lies.

A few more small potholes are located, and it is getting obvious that we are about to the rim of the canyon which will be a hard stop. The rope I brought is short, we will not be repelling a couple of hundred feet into Coyote Gulch. From above, it looks like we are about to just hit the end of the road, instead there is a ramp that goes around a pour over. At the bottom of that pour over is a giant pothole, a beautiful swimming hole and even better, next to that hole there is an alcove that is perfectly shaded this afternoon.

Upon further inspection, we realize that our dreaded rim camp to see the sunset over the canyon has turned into paradise. We have a swimming hole fully exposed to the sun and surrounded by sandstone we can warm back up on. We have shade that is nicely tucked next to our private pool with enough flat ground for all of us to be able to sleep.

Those of us who wandered are convinced this is our spot. We return to the previous one to gather our things and grab the Lickers who had stayed behind. Once back to Underwear Camp, we didn’t have much to do other than swim, snack, drink, smoke and chill. We would sleep in the alcove so no tents were needed, not much to set up when you are just sleeping under sandstone.

When we venture into the desert for multiple days, we tend to be minimal on what we bring. This usually equates to no swimming suits. For us that isn’t a problem. We have found that underwear, especially if it is synthetic, works pretty much the same as a suit and you don’t have to carry anything extra. It’s also a bonus cause you get to “wash” your underwear while swimming. Within our small group, we have spent a lot of time swimming around in underwear without even thinking twice about it. And this was no exception.

Of course, it was dubbed Underwear Camp because we spent most of our time there in our underwear.

Once packs were dropped, clothes were removed and in we went. We spent the next couple of hours, swimming, drying off, swimming, drinking, swimming, drying, smoking, swimming until the sun started to dip, the temperatures were waning, and we had had enough. Plus, the whole reason for being on the rim was to see the sunset over the canyon which would also be over an arch that was in the canyon.

Who’s going to carry the boats?

There was an air of tension on our last morning. Shelby’s route took us over Stephen’s Arch and then down it into Coyote Gulch. This meant we would have to walk over the arch putting us exposed as we traversed the narrow sandstone. Then the crux of the situation, the drop into the canyon. This is the biggest reason I had been carrying a rope for two days.

We made our way to the edge of the canyon and then over the arch. It was definitely exposed, but I don’t think even one tear was shed. We downclimbed until the arch got steep and using friction to stay attached was questionable. Luckily, there was a giant rock knob. We created an anchor and the girls repelled into the canyon. Shelby and Kenny handlined down. I removed the anchor and rigged the rope around the rock to use as a handline before downclimbing into the canyon.

There’s a reason Coyote gets most of the attention and traffic in this area. It is stunning. The only downside is that it is usually pretty crowded. There were a couple of ladies at the bottom of the arch as we were rigging to drop in. They were packed and gone by the time we were down and we then had the canyon to ourselves, or at least we didn’t see anyone for the short jaunt we did to get back to our exit.

The trip ended much the same way as it started, walking across petrified dunes until those dunes gave way to regular ones and eventually, after what seemed like forever, we are back at the cars sipping beer, stoked, and already planning our next foray into what is our form of Disneyland.

Underwear camp was truly fantastical. If you can find it, I highly recommend its accommodations. I’m pretty sure you will end up hanging around in your underwear for most of your stay.

Embrace Chaos. Seek Discomfort.