By Michael Lanza
Walls of searing, orange-red sandstone shoot up for hundreds of feet, so close together in places that I could cross from one side of this chasm to the other in a dozen strides. On the floor of Paria Canyon, a shallow river slides lazily forward like very thin, melted milk chocolate. The early-spring sunshine only occasionally finds us in here, even at midday; instead, it ignites the upper walls and sends warm light bouncing downward in a cascade of reflected glow, painting every wave of rock in a subtly different hue.
Hypnotized, I fall a short distance behind the group, pointing my camera and clicking away. Moments later, I round a bend in the canyon to see my friend, Vince, mired hip-deep in quicksand and struggling mightily.
It’s the first day of our two-family, five-day, 38-mile backpacking trip down Paria Canyon, which straddles the border of Utah and Arizona and joins the Colorado River at Lees Ferry, the gateway to the Grand Canyon. We’d already had our first run-in with quicksand earlier, just an hour into our hike. At the first pool of it that we happened upon, the five kids, age 12 to 15, stood hurling rocks into the muck, erupting in fits of laughter at the baritone “bloop” each made and the sight of it disappearing almost instantly.
But now, the laugh train has left the station, and four stunned young people stare, wide-eyed and quiet, at Vince.
I drop my pack on a small island of dry ground and join Vince’s wife, Cat, at the edge of the quicksand pool. Vince passes us his backpack, but we can’t get quite close enough to grab a hand and pull him out. Fortunately, he’s not sinking any deeper. Quicksand occurs in Southwest canyons when the fine sand in a river bottom, usually outside the river’s current, contains just the right amount of water so that it neither flows downstream nor dries to solid earth (although it can appear solid); and it rarely seems to get very deep.
Still, it feels bottomless and as thick as cold molasses when you’re mired in it—as most of us will discover this week.
So all we can do is offer advice and watch Vince helplessly as he twists, pushes off the nearby canyon wall with his hands, and struggles to extract his legs from this pool of nature’s wet cement. After several minutes, he manages to wriggle close enough to the quicksand’s edge for Cat and I to each grab a hand and haul him out. Panting, he stands encased in a wet mold of dripping, brown goop from the waist down.
The sight will become a visual metaphor for this adventure. Paria—and its 15-mile-long tributary slot canyon, Buckskin Gulch, which gets so tight in some stretches that you have to take off your pack and squeeze through sideways—can feel at times like you were served an entire rhinoceros when you only ordered a hamburger.
Quicksand appears frequently and sometimes without warning—looking no different than the innocuous, standard-issue mud that carpets most of the canyon floor. Finding water for drinking and cooking is a daily challenge: Over its entire length, typically walked in five days, Paria has just three reliable springs, and Buckskin has no drinkable water. And the heavily silted river—too thick to drink, to thin to plant, as locals like to describe it—quickly chokes a water filter to death.
With a narrows section that stretches for 10 miles or more, Paria poses a real flash-flood hazard; you only embark down it with a forecast of clear weather for at least three days. Buckskin’s far tighter and longer narrows, besides morphing into a sandstone coffin during a flash flood, receives little direct sunlight and dries out very slowly in spring. In fact, I’d obtained a permit for us to start in Buckskin, but we opted to bypass it and begin at White House campground, at the top of Paria Canyon, when we got reports of Buckskin being filled wall-to-wall with waist-deep ice water for miles, runoff from a recent snowstorm at higher elevations upstream.
But Paria alone or combined with Buckskin also comprises one of the most continually stunning, multi-day canyon hikes in the Southwest. Having backpacked overnight down Buckskin and up just the upper several miles of Paria two decades ago with my wife, Penny, I was eager to return and walk its entire length, showing our kids and our good friends the Serio family one of the Southwest’s premier cracks in the Earth.
It would turn out to be even more scenic than I remembered—and a bigger adventure than anyone anticipated.
After Paria Canyon, hike the other nine of “The 10 Best Backpacking Trips in the Southwest.”
Paria Canyon-Vermilion Cliffs Wilderness
Paria Canyon and Buckskin Gulch sit within the 112,500-acre Paria Canyon-Vermilion Cliffs Wilderness, between Kanab, Utah, and Page, Arizona. Buckskin is known as one of the longest, if not the longest continuous slot canyon in the Southwest, while Paria has become famous among backpackers for its towering walls painted wildly with desert varnish, massive red rock amphitheaters and arches, hanging gardens where the few springs in the canyon gush from rock, and sandy benches for camping, shaded by cottonwood trees.
There’s no trail; you just hike down the canyon, crossing the Paria River scores of times a day, and walking right in the river when it spans the canyon narrows from wall to wall, as it does for long stretches during the first three days, in Paria’s narrows. For the most part, the river’s ankle- to calf-deep, occasionally rising to thighs or waists.
And now, in late March, it’s numbingly cold. We came prepared with neoprene socks on everyone—which make a huge difference in keeping our feet reasonably warm; everyone adapts quickly to the feeling of our feet being wet for hours. Although the kids braced themselves for the first river crossings, early on day one, I overheard Sofi Serio tell my son, Nate, “It’s kind of fun, actually.”
Plus, we’ve drawn all aces for weather, with a forecast for sunshine every day, with highs in the 60s and lows in the high 30s the first two days, then 70s and 40s.
Find your next adventure in your Inbox. Sign up for my FREE email newsletter now.
Throughout our first day in Paria, we walk between walls that rise higher the farther we go, and are pockmarked with “windows,” or alcoves ranging in size from big enough for a bird to big enough for all five kids to clamber inside for a photo, and sometimes so numerous they actually resemble rows of windows in a multi-story building. The walls are painted haphazardly in dark streaks of black and ochre, creamy white, and innumerable variations on red and orange that look like a melting sherbet rainbow.
As our first evening drips slowly into the canyon, we stop to camp on a sandy bench on river left. I’d hoped we might reach a campsite near the confluence with Buckskin Gulch on our first night, but we haven’t seen it yet, and the group is tired and hungry. Nate and I drop our packs in camp and hike 20 minutes farther downstream just to see how far we are from Buckskin, but we never reach it. I figure our group hiked maybe six miles down canyon in six hours, including breaks, on this first day. Walking in water is slow, but we’ve also just been enjoying the scenery.
Lying in our bags inside our tents after dark, listening to the river gurgle past, we hear the hoots of an owl echoing off the canyon walls.
I can help you plan the best backpacking, hiking, or family adventure of your life. Find out more here.
Playing in Quicksand
Nate, my daughter, Alex, and Sofi and Lili Serio stand around a small puddle of quicksand that one of them had stepped into a minute ago. Seeing that it’s no more than ankle deep, they all begin stomping around in it, laughing and shrieking. Sofi gets her boots stuck, and although she could probably extricate herself, the other three circle the wagons around her in a mock rescue drill, pulling her out by the arms—prompting even louder fits of hilarity.
On just our second day, less than 24 hours after we watched Vince wallow nearly to his belt buckle in the stuff, quicksand no longer frightens our kids. Peril has become a punch line, and quicksand merely a sandbox.
Early this morning, before our families were awake, Vince and I spent 90 minutes filtering enough water for nine of us to drink today, from river water that we’d let sit overnight in pots and every available water vessel to let the silt settle to the bottom (to keep it from clogging the filter). That gave us enough water to hike to the next spring, about six miles downriver.
Now deep in Paria’s narrows, we walk in the shade of close canyon walls that make humans look tiny. The desert Southwest harbors many canyons of wildly varying proportions—length, width, and depth—as well as shapes and characters. And a handful stand out as the cream of the crop of multi-day canyon hikes, like Zion’s Narrows, Coyote Gulch in the Escalante, Capitol Reef’s Chimney Rock and Spring canyons, and certainly just about any hike in the Grand Canyon (my favorite so far has been the Royal Arch Loop).
Read all of this story, including my expert tips on planning this trip, and ALL stories at The Big Outside, plus get a FREE e-guide. Join now!
But few compare with Paria Canyon for length, variety, and sustained beauty. For so many miles that we lose track of a sense of distance or time, we splash downriver, rounding one bend and twist in the canyon after another to a new, jaw-dropping sight of a sheer, multi-colored wall, or a huge, arch-like formation eroding into a cliff, or parallel, vertical cracks that give a wall the appearance of giant organ pipes.
19 thoughts on “The Quicksand Chronicles: Backpacking Paria Canyon”
Thank you for sharing your experience in Paria. I am in a group that is scheduled to attempt the hike in mid April. As you’re likely aware, the snowpack situation is really concerning.
When you did your hike do you recall the water levels or willing to share what days you were in the canyon? Where specifically (and on what day) did you encounter some of the deepest water (how high on a person of X height?). We’ve been watching the USGS data and temps very closely and trying to see what snow water equivalent might be anticipated to allow safer passage through the narrows section (if starting from White Hall it’s supposed to start narrowing signficantly around mile 4 and the narrows look to last for about to mile 20 around the Wrather Arch area).
Any insights are much appreciated.
Congrats on your Paria permit. You might have good river levels by mid-April but I won’t venture to speculate in this very unusual year. I happened to stop in the BLM office in St. George, Utah, just a few days ago, after having to cancel my Owl-Fish canyons permit (Cedar Mesa in southeast Utah) for March 31 to April 2 because of an inaccessible road and canyon entrance (ice dam). At that time, on March 31, the recreation staff there said Paria was not recommended. Much can happen in two weeks, so I suggest you contact that office and/or the BLM office in Kanab for any reports of current conditions and ask them about recommended water levels. I don’t recall what water levels we encountered, but it was in late March and we had relatively warm, dry weather with low river levels and still saw maybe a couple of pools that were thigh-deep (and very cold) on kids around 5′ 6″.
I’m sure you understand there’s plenty of quicksand in Paria. If river levels drop to a safe level, the muddy edges of the river will likely have lots of quicksand. It’s generally not dangerous but it can be impossible to extract yourself without help, so the group should stick together and spread out enough to avoid multiple people getting stuck simultaneously.
Good luck. If there’s doubt, save the trip for another year.
Thanks Mike! How did you handle water filtration on the Paria River Trail?
You’ll want to plan your water around the few springs in Paria Canyon. In a pinch, you can try to filter the river (we did one night), but it’s heavily silted and you’ll have to settle water out in pots for hours before filtering it. The springs are clear but should be filtered. If you’re getting water from the river, use a pump filter; that silted water would quickly clog anything else, like a gravity filter.
Awesome adventure. Thanks for the write up. We are going in 2 weeks. Looking forward to it. Appreciate learning about your experience.
What did your guys use for footwear?
Thanks, Will. Paria is fascinating, you’ll love it. We (including the kids) wore our hiking/backpacking boots but more important, neoprene socks to keep our feet from getting too cold. Bring standard hiking socks also, for long stretches where you don’t hike mostly in the river (as in the lower canyon). Have a great trip.
Thank you very much.
Is it safer to hike in the spring or the fall, in terms of flash flood risk? Do you know of anyone who offers guided backpacking tours of Paria Canyon?
Good questions, thanks. Generally, spring and summer in the Southwest bring the kind of heavy rainstorms that can cause flash floods; that said, spring is still a good season to backpack Paria because the springs are more likely to have a good flow in them. Just make sure you have a reliable forecast for at least the first few days of the trip (hiking downriver), when you’re going through the narrows section. Fall is drier and the biggest concern is usually the springs for clear water (the river is heavily silted), though heavy rainstorms can come, especially later in fall.
I don’t know of any guides operating in Paria Canyon.
Good luck planning your trip. And see my Custom Trip Planning page to learn how I can help you plan your Paria trip.
Hi, love ur article. I am having a hard time gauging what shoes my kids should wear for the cold Paria. We go early April. I bought them water canyoneering shoes with 3mm neoprene socks. I have a 5, 8, and 11 year old. We just did a 2-day kayak trip on the Colorado from Glen canyon dam to lees ferry and my 8-year-old’s feet froze but he said no to his neoprene socks so I left them in the van for our trip big mistake and his feet froze for the 2 days as he had his kid ocean kayak that exposed his feet to the cold Colorado for 2 days and now I don’t know if the neoprene socks would have solved his cold feet problem or not.
But now it has me second guessing if his feet can withstand the Paria so looking into youth fishing waders which I had not originally considered due to the miles. Now thinking of waders for my 5&8 year old with clipping on their canyoneering shoes and neoprene socks to the pack just in case or do you think the waders are overkill and the Paria is very doable with just the neoprene socks? As a mom you know kids can do almost anything if they are comfortable lol so doing my best to make sure they have the right gear to complete the hike. We are starting at Whitehouse and ending at lees ferry. 4 nights 5 days. We do about 1 mile an hour and about 8 miles a day average. We experienced quicksand last weekend at lone rock beach Utah kids found them stuck waist deep along with one of our dogs and why my 8 year old had no shoes for the kayaking horseshoe bend 🤦♀️ The quicksand ate them but glad to experience before our backpacking trip.
My kids have backpacked enough so not worried about the trip just keeping their feet functioning. It will be our longest hike though we normally do 4 days 30 miles. So just curious about your suggestions for kid shoes, waders or not?
I’m glad you posted that question because I think I can give you a clearer plan. We backpacked Paria Canyon from Whitehouse to Lees Ferry in the last week of March with our kids when they were 14 and 12 (and still both small kids). The water is usually cold and mostly shallow in early spring, when you’re also going, although there were a few spots we waded thigh-deep (but not very far). We all wore shorts and warm layers on top when needed. The air temperature was never cold, just cool in the mornings. Bring jackets to block wind as well as insulation layers.
And everyone wore neoprene socks, which kept our feet from freezing; feet felt chilly at times but no one really complained, it wasn’t too bad. I highly recommend getting neoprene socks and insisting they all wear them; if they refuse at first, they’ll probably want them before long, so bring the socks with you.
I definitely recommend against waders. First of all, they’ll be too hot and clunky to hike in. But more importantly, the risk with waders is that, in the few deep spots, water could flow over the waders and they will suddenly weigh a ton; if someone falls over with water-weighted waders on, there’s a risk they won’t be able to get up and will be held underwater.
The neoprene socks are a safe and good solution.
Thanks for the question and enjoy your hike, it’s beautiful. Make sure the forecast shows no rain, there are narrows in the Paria and flash floods can be dangerous.
Thank you so much means a ton
You’re welcome, Jade, have a great hike.
This is a superb hike. My wife and two friends hiked the Paria Canyon in the autumn of 2019. Our last trip before COVID. We did encounter a little quicksand but the Park staff had forewarned us of the likely locations so we did not have an engaging experience.
I had the good fortune to complete a Canyon Trifecta on this trip. Paria first, then the Escalanate Route in the Grand and finally the Aravaipa Canyon. Three special and distinct experiences.
Michael thank you for being an inspiration.
Great write-up! We have a group from TN planning to do Buckskin/Paria from Wire Pass in May.
Thanks, Michael. May should be a good time. Have fun and safe travels.
We did Buckskin Gulch several years ago and still talk about it as one of the most unique and incredible 2 day backpacks we’ve ever done. Photos can hardly do it justice, I think because a single image doesn’t capture the feeling of miles and miles of continually amazing slot canyon. We went in April and lucked out with completely dry conditions which certainly made travel easier, but sounds like we missed some of the fun of quicksand!
Hi NateKat, I’ve also backpacked Buckskin to upper Paria as an overnight, a number of years ago, later in spring, and we still had some cold pools of debris-filled water to wade. I suspect it varies a lot from year to year.