For me at least this was the surprise standout of our little Colorado Plateau road trip! I don't think I really ever considered it as a serious option until I was watching the assembly of 50+ trip leaders representing about 150 people all competing in the Wave lottery (Coyote Buttes North) and realized the futility of us grabbing two of the ten person-spots that would be allowed in the following day. The adjoining Coyote Buttes South area has managed to remain remarkably low key in our social murdia age, probably because of the lack of a singular "must selfie" feature like "The Wave," the arguably longer/rougher hiking, and a challenging deep sand 4WD approach that narrows the competition. I got the impression that the BLM more actively dissuades people from the permit, in part because of legitimate rescues and tows related to the access roads. We nodded along to their inquiry of whether we had high clearance 4WD, not wanting to reveal my unorthodox plan. I had faith in my ability to drive an AWD Subaru Forester over an hour through miles of deep sand and dig out and retreat if needed, but as I consulted aerial photos and pulled in GPS points of some of the unofficially named geological features, a Hayduke Trail inspired cross country route began to form in my mind. Ten people stuck around for the permit and so happily no lottery was drawn and all received permits, no drama. Heather and I carefully packed for the day's adventure the night before and I poured over maps crafting plans and backup plans. I excitedly awoke early anticipating a long day with challenges, rewards, and high ambitions. This was a rare opportunity to explore the intricately complex and fantastical slickrock wonderland of Coyote Buttes South that at most can see twenty visitors a day and I was determined to see the best it had to offer. As far as I know geologically there is nowhere quite like the Coyote Buttes. The region is composed of the same widespread Navajo Sandstone that crops out in Zion but here there has been a different post-depositional history. The rocks have been tectonically fractured and altered with mineral leaching fluids that create resistant bands and fantastical colors that have been eroded by wind into unique shapes. I am convinced no one really quite understands what has gone on here geologically. It is unique, fragile, and thanks to the unparalleled difficulty in obtaining a permit, thus far has been remarkably spared the fate of the Southwest's more trampled scenic wonders.
From the stateline campground we drove down House Rock Rd into Arizona and pulled off the road at a random wash. We got started a little after 8 am (Mountain Time?), crossing Coyote Wash and then continuing up a narrow unnamed wash network for nearly a mile. I was expecting deep sand resistance hiking but in a surprise travel in this wash was excellent; it turned out that the colorfully exposed Chinle mud badlands further up the wash meant that flash floods brought down a mud slurry that solidified into a flat pavement-like surface. Other than the occasional barbed wire fence we made excellent time to the blue, purple, yellow, red, brown, and pink Chinle badlands. The light was not really agreeable to pulling out the best of the colors and we did not have time to dwell, but I enjoyed the popcorn expanding clay crunching underfoot and snapping photos of the badlands.
"Rainbow Badlands"
 |
| Looking back across Coyote Valley to the Kaibab Anticline |
We climbed a steep rock gully, then traversed out onto a steep stabilized sand dune, then found our way through breaks in short sandstone cliff bands. We followed a sandy ridge towards the main cliff of Coyote Buttes, doing our best to stay off the cryptobiotic soil. This 1 mile of sandy ridge travel also went faster than expected as we steadily climbed towards the sideways talus pile that I hoped will allow us through the otherwise continuous 400 ft cliff. Happily each step towards the talus pile seemed more encouraging and about 1500ft away I could be fairly certain we would be able to get up. We picked our route slowly and deliberately up the loose talus pile. After a sideways traverse across steep slickrock the rest of the talus slope was easier to navigate, dodging cacti being the main challenge. It was clear this gap in the cliff was related to some prominent tectonic fractures, and we marveled at the boulders with intricate cross-cutting boxwork bands protuding delicately. I half-serious lamented the fact that they were not in my yard for me to always enjoy.
 |
The boulder ramp through the Coyote Buttes cliff
|
As we topped out the boulder talus slope through its saddle and into the sun, we had our first view over Cottonwood Cove to the main expanse of Coyote Buttes South. It was equal parts impressive and intimidating! Our cliff break route popped us out on a crow's nest perch, a room-sized shelf above a 300 foot high cliff that we would have to find away down. I was a little stressed about finding a way down from here but projected a calm demeanor as we took the opportunity to enjoy the view, snack, and water while curious bees pestered our strangely colored clothes. The Hayduke Trail taught me there was always a way and I had faith in the high friction of the woefully misnamed slickrock and value in small ledges and cross-beds for descending the steeps. As we switchbacked down steep slickrock it very quickly became clear to me how incredibly unique and delicate this area was. Wind-eroded boxwork bands millimeter-thick protruded up to ten centimeters from the slickrock surface. Suddenly finding ourselves in a China shop, we did our best to avoid crunching the delicate features underfoot. We past some fragile mini-hoodoos and then climbed down a swirly slot to the patio floor of Cottonwood Cove. This was a relief as I was fairly confident the rest of my route would work out and it was now just a matter of fitting in as much as possible. We dropped packs to loop through some teepee/beehive formations and went past some mystical sarsen stone boxwork boulder sprinkled around an area I called "Boxwork Basin." In hindsight I wish we had explored this area a bit more but we had so much more to see and a lot of hiking left to do. Coyote Buttes South does not have any formal names of placenames but others have informally adopted names of features. Those in parentheses are ones that I came up with.
 |
Dropping into Coyote Buttes South
|
 |
Descending from the Coyote Buttes pass into Cottonwood Cove
|
 |
"Boxwork Basin"
|
We followed the Cottonwood Cove slickrock patio northeast until it became covered with sand. We climbed up some of the steepest slickrock of the day to cross into a wonderful alcove with great nooks and crannies. A easy standout was a perfect low bullseye cone I was calling "The Teleporter" (frontispiece), which sits in front of particularly photogenic teepees. Traversing some slickrock I found a narrow joint-controlled passageway that led into a secret alcove filled with a sand dune that bounced golden light into the surrounding overhangs. We had only been wandering around the main Coyote Buttes area for about an hour but I was already giddy and sensory overloaded by the geological wonders that exceeded my expectations. I struggled to not take new photos with every three steps as the swirling patterns changed in pleasing ways with each new vantage.
 |
| Passageway into the "Chamber of Sands" |
 |
"Chamber of Sands" (and two below)
|
We continued on past more teepees and slickrock. I stopped for a detour at the Chocolate Swirl, an atypical formation unlike anything else we saw. Traversing more slickrock we then entered a hollow known as Rainbow Cove. The bounced golden light was great in the shadows here and I took many many photos of the wonderful textures and colors.
"Two Teepees"
 |
Chocolate Swirl
|
 |
Rainbow Cove (and below)
|
We climbed up the slickrock slopes to the sandy bench above and traversed our way to the northeastern corner of Coyote Buttes South where most visitation occurs. We saw a couple groups at a distance. More great teepees were passed. A particularly notable cluster of cauliflower tops and swirly sides I dubbed "The Drip Castle," as it evoked childhood wet sand stalagmites at the beach. Across the flats to the east I could see more desirable formations to check out but I resisted the temptation to run over knowing that the should be the way we would loop back. We came across a stout cylindrical formation perched near a cliff edge; I thought "The Lazy Susan" after the spinnable food tray. Appropriately we sat on top of this for lunch and enjoyed the view.
"The Drip Castle" (and below)
 |
"The Lazy Susan"
|
We followed the cliff edge a little further and somewhat disappointingly came across our first footprints that showed us an easy way down the cliff into the northernmost outskirts. I was not able to identify the dinosaur tracks that were supposedly in this area, but we did enjoy the named features of Red Cove and the Southern Wave before circling around the northern limits and looping back southward. We past the Witch's Hat and Control Tower.
Red Cove
Southern Wave
 |
Control Tower
|
Next we reached an area polygonally fractured brain rocks reminiscent of the Joe's Ranch area on the Hayduke Trail except much more colorful in this instance. Half & Half, which features an interesting alteration transition from orange to red, was probably my favorite previously named feature that I saw. It was neat to trace these colors lines as they swirled across the slickrock.
 |
Half & Half
|
We cut through a little valley behind some teepees and then continued on at the base of one of the more impressive cliffs we encountered which I uncreatively dubbed "The Great Wall." This was the last of the multi-colors. As we continued on red slickrock predominated and boxwork textures became more common.
 |
"The Great Wall" (and below)
|
 |
"Boxwork Ridge"
|
We followed the ridge at the southern edge of Cottonwood Cove until it was time for us to go cross country across the pinon, scrub, cacti and sand to the Paw Hole region at the far south of the permit area. I was not thrilled about navigating my way across this mile without a prominent landmark to aim for, but despite cacti avoidance we managed to go in a mostly straight line toward our goal in excellent time. The cool weather made hiking thoroughly pleasant. We dropped off the sand flats and turned a corner to regain slickrock at the Southern Alcove, a nice shady alcove for one more snack before we wrapped up our time in the permit area and made a dash west. There were nice colors here. I got particularly fascinated turning my gaze upward in the alcove where the profile of delicate sandstone fins were evocative of endless mountain ranges or that famous Joy Division album cover of pulsar spectra.
 |
Southern Alcove
|
Our final named feature was the Yellow Stripe, a particularly colorful and non-characteristically thick crossbed layer that loops around a saddle. I'm not sure of the lateral continuity of the beds but texturally it seems like it could be the same layer we saw at "The Teleporter" a mile and a half away.
 |
| Yellow Stripe |
From here at the broken southern edge of the Coyote Buttes cliffs we gazed off across the wash network towards House Rock Road over two miles by crow. Consulting my maps I made the impromptu decision to plot a more direct course than I had planned. It was a move that became so familiar navigating similar terrain on the Hayduke Trail. Have a plan before, then have a reality check in person. Our chosen route ended up working great. We found a nice sandy ridge that we could easily follow for over a half mile until we intercepted a wash. Predictably this wash draining the sandstone terrain was horribly loose making for slow, laborious travel even if open and straightforward. We passed through a minor area of Chinlee badlands but alas not enough this time to drown out the sand. Signs of cattle increased as we approached Coyote Wash and we used cattle trails where they went the right direction. Some more cattle fences to contend with near Coyote Spring and then a short road walk to House Rock. The last mile back to the car along House Rock felt like a victory lap. We had great views of the Kaibab Anticline to the west and could see both our approach and exit to the east.
 |
Leaving Coyote Buttes
|
Our full route was about 13 miles of wonderfully diverse cross country travel that took a solid 9 hours car-to-car. Arguably it was probably one of the best single day hikes I have ever done. It probably approached my record for most number of photos shot in a single day (398!). It felt like the best scenery and terrain variety of my 23 days on the Hayduke Trail rolled into one packed day. Good travel washes, badlands, crypto, untested routes through barrier cliffs, slickrock descents/climbs, traverses, deep sand, bad travel washes, cattle trails, and dirt roads. Less suffering! It was great to remember the satisfaction of planning and testing a route and to consider that perhaps our route had never been done quite like we did it before and that we were able to see more than most without needless driving.
With a bit of day left and not totally exhausted we began driving back towards southern California, but still with a few tricks up our sleeves. We had a great little dinner at River Rock in La Verkin and I improvised a plan of camping in the forest north of St George and fitting in a quickie morning canyon before the full drive home. It was a very satisfying day. Thanks to Heather for being a part of it.
