All The Way Around: The Syncline Loop

 I remember the first time that I traced the trail on a map. It was just a giant loop. Nothing more, nothing less. Unremarkable, a dotted line traced on an insignificant corner of the Islands in the Sky District of Canyonlands National Park. Then I saw what it went all the way around.

It was years ago, I was on an entirely unenjoyable trip to the desert (which is hard to do for me) from where I was working at the time in Estes Park. It was my first year living there, and the chosen group of people I had come with were coworkers. All of us simply didn’t have the same interests. One of the few days that we were in Moab, we went over to Canyonlands National Park. At the time, I had only been there once before, and I was altogether not familiar with the country in that part of Utah. I was immediately drawn to the 3D topographic map that they had as one of the centerpieces in the visitor center. The loop was more significant now. It first descended, then ascended, then repeated several times, all the way around a striking, and giant crater to which scarred the desert surface. I had to see for myself. We made our way to the Upheaval Dome overlook, from where I was able to see the full magnitude of this place.

The Upheaval Dome is one of the few unique spots that geologists, biologists, and any other associated scientist and researcher alike are not entirely sure of how it happened. There are several theories, but the most supported is that it was the site of a meteor impact several million years ago. In my entirely ignorant state, I would like to say that I agree. It looks like a giant goddamn crater. The dotted line of a trail that I have been constantly referring to is the famous (or infamous, rather) “Syncline Loop.” The Syncline loop has tempted trail runners and hikers alike to follow its rough path through the upper ridges of the crater, down to the desert floor, and back up again, all the way around the giant impact site. More on the specifics of this route a little later, back to the Upheaval Dome. The Upheaval Dome is enchanting, a giant crater in the ground, perhaps caused by one single event. This is entirely opposite to the countryside that surrounds it, with canyons carved away over the slow progression of time. The juxtaposition of both in the same place leads to a good amount of astounding beauty. The site of many legends and myths, one would be able to see that their compass does not entirely work in the base of the crater, as I can support that by witnessing the phenomena myself. Among other things, the site of many a “Skinwalker” sighting, going along with the old Navajo and Ute legends of a spiritual (or evil, depending on who you ask) trickster meant to deceive both the senses and the mind. I wouldn’t completely dispel the sightings either, as the area has an aura to it that seems to be more intense during the dark hours of the night.

Interestingly enough, the thing that turns most away from the prospect of making it all the way around the loop is not the legends of old, or the spooky feeling that one encounters in the deep recesses of the mind while visiting Upheaval Dome, it is the nature of the trail that you must follow. Being the single one place in Canyonlands National Park where the most rescues occur each season, the Syncline Loop is generously labeled as “a rough and strenuous trail that is difficult to follow.” Funny enough, I snorted quietly at this same excerpt at the sign for the start of the trail, a moment that would provide hubris later as I almost found myself bewitched by the hard to follow path in some river wash at the beginning of the way down to the lowest point of the route. The Syncline Loop boasts modest mileage and vertical gain, but makes up for it in the splendor of the backcountry, and a good amount of rock scrambling.

Years later, it was finally my turn to try my hand at this gem of a trail running route. I was finally fit enough to go as hard as I could in covering the miles fast. I had never been out of shape, nor had I ever been inexperienced enough to finish the route, but I had developed over the previous years an ability to cover rough miles quickly from all of the mountain running and trails near our current home between Buena Vista and Leadville, Colorado. My goal was to finish the route in under two hours, one that would prove to be able to be done, though it should be noted that the current FKT (fastest known time) of the trail sits at 1 hour, 19 minutes. This is a trail that one is not able to run very fast on, as many of the technical sections are extremely technical, and a fall would certainly prove to be very bad in most sections.

My Significant Other, Sarah, and I camped right outside of the park the night before, hoping to gain an early start and dodge a good bit of the crowds that the park attracts in early March. Temperature was not a concern as it was the middle of spring in Utah, but regardless, it would be nice to miss the beating sun of the afternoon. We awoke shortly before daybreak, and drove quietly into the park. The sun rising over the red desert of Utah is a special thing. One would never think that there'd be even more color, but something of the shadows and the soft shine of the sun barely rising over the horizon, it brings out more hues in the red rock and sagebrush than what you could conjure without ever seeing it before. Nearly magical. Like Disneyworld for people who don’t like Florida or spending a lot of useless money.

We puttered along on the road that ran through the park, seeing the busy parking lot of Mesa arch, with tourists already making their way to try and catch a sunrise photo through the gentle sloping arms of the bridge-like arch. Sarah readied the rest of her gear while I drove the last section of road up to the trailhead. Our dog, Jasper slept quietly in the back of the Rav, as this was much too early to be awake. We parked, finished what little packing of our vests that we needed to do before the run, and waited quietly for the sun to rise and warm the land enough that we could take off. I was not nervous, but the anticipation of the run was nearly overwhelming. It would only hit me shortly after starting that I was finally running this trail. I understand to most the simple prospect of being excited over running one specific trail would be absurd, but in this instance, this was truly a special moment. Something more than a few years in the making for me.

We began a little after the sun was able to fully rise over the horizon. Truth be told, I had not slept very well the night before and dozed off for a little while after parking at the trailhead. I was glad to at least get a little rest in the bank before darting off into the virtually unknown. To begin the loop, one has to first run the short section of the overlook trail. On any given spring afternoon, this trail would be littered with out-of-shape tourists and all-to-curious children, but it was still the morning, and they had not made their way out here yet. The crisp, spring air was nice. It wouldn’t even begin to feel warm for at least an hour or two. I cut left onto the spot where the loop began off of the main overlook trail and read the same sign referenced earlier. In bold, Park Service font read the warning I had read online while researching many times before “this is a rough and strenuous trail that is hard to follow.” I was excited for the possibility of a challenge. I began down the trail. It was easy to follow at this point, as you could tell that many tourists and hikers had begun down this way, not knowing how far they would go or if they would do the whole loop. I was nearly impressed that the first two and a half miles passed by without me having to do any route finding.  The running was fun and the time and miles ticked by without any significance. The scenery of Canyonlands National Park always was among my most favorite, as it had not yet been so deeply impacted as Arches closer to Moab had. Less visitors came as far out this way, and I enjoyed it.

The trail diverted onto a dry river bed and followed it for about a mile or so. At the same time, I could feel the gentle descent evolve more into a more aggressive downhill. The occasional rock on the trail turns to boulders that must be hopped, and sections that must be scrambled. The real nature of the Syncline Loop began to show itself. Rounding the corner, the riverbed turned into a large, imposing canyon. One of the outer walls of the crater rose to my left, and a forming wall of another canyon rose to my right. The nature of the impact site showed clearly at this moment. To one side of me was the gentle flow of the elements on the earth over time, to the other side was an expression of the random and violent nature that this planet is capable of. It was wonderful. At this point, to many unfamiliar with overland desert travel, the trail disappears. To me, the trail nearly did here and there, but altogether the route was more than workable at a respectable pace. As the deep and shaded canyon that the route runs through continued on, I was admittedly unsure of how the trail would get out of this. I understood that the route needed to lose elevation until it eventually met the crater at the opposite side than the overlook, but I hadn’t imagined that it would lose elevation this quickly. It would be a lie to say that at this moment I hadn’t become a little lost. I rose up the right side of the canyon on what I would later find out would be a social trail, something I didn’t realize until I was high enough to gain a vantage on the other side of the canyon and saw cairns for the actual trail. A simple correction was required following my blunder, but it was amusing that enough people made the same mistake enough to carve a small offshoot trail up and to the wrong side. This trail took me over a few fun and technical sections until I was eventually deposited at the absolute lowest point of the route. From here, I could either take an offshoot trail into the center of the crater through a small opening caused by erosion, or I could continue on my way through the loop. Going to the center of the crater was something that was tempting, I had done it before coming the other (and shorter way) to the middle of the loop, but the dark mysteries of the center would have to wait this time. I still wanted to see how quick I could round the loop, and time was burning.

From this point on, the only real challenge of following the trail was keeping up. It climbs gently at first, and then very steeply over a long set of rock cut stairs and steps, until rising again to the plateau that the trail starts off from. Coming over the final climb I have to say was probably my favorite part. Not entirely due to my “glutton for punishment” attitude that I have with handling vert, but more from the views looking back out. Once again, one is able to see the entirety of the crater to which you just ran around. The sun was up higher now, and I had been going for a little longer than an hour. It was time to cruise the remainder and finish this mission for today. I skipped along the final sections of the loop before it rejoined with the main overlook trail leading back to the trailhead, the trail keeping some of the same character as the start of the loop on the other side. Many had started, and many had turned around. As I turned onto the main trail leading back, the crowds returned and my lone position in the open desert vanished. I was back to civilization and all the noise that tourists and children bring. What a welcome rest the isolation of the loop was though. Canyons can be both relaxingly and startlingly quiet. I crossed the final stretch of the trail coming in at a little longer than an hour and a half. Not so bad considering the recorded FKT of the trail was 15 minutes shorter. I was happy and comfortably tired. No more than 45 minutes later, Sarah emerged as well. Bringing the same stoke and joy that I felt on the amazing qualities of the loop. We went to a special place that few ventured into. The moments out in the middle of it, I will refer back to when there’s too many people around.

On our way out of the park, Sarah and I stopped at the visitor’s center to look at some of the exhibits they had on the rock layers. While Sarah was enthralled with the differences in sandstone, I quietly walked back up to the 3D topographic map they had close to the center of the main room. My finger slowly traced the trail. It went all the way around, stopping where it began at nearly the highest point of the large crater blasted into the ground. What a pretty good damn day.