Three weeks ago, Linda and I made a quick dash through this area on our Rock-hounding and the Capital Reef loop trip. Mesmerized by the never-ending sea of sandstone, I decided to return and hike one of the trails of my childhood, and hopefully add to the experience by seeing some more of the terrain.

Pulling into Lower Calf Creek campground, I was disappointed to find it nearly full with a first-come, first-served basis. The sites crowd together, and I happen to find one recently vacated, stopping just long enough to pitch my tent and eat a late lunch. The weather is warm, but not overly so as I leave for the Lower Calf Creek Falls trailhead.

The trail placard is uninformative as it reminds me that I am entering a wilderness area and that I need to depend on myself for survival. With the dozens of people hiking along the trail with me, I doubt that would be true, but I've come prepared with enough water, so I should be okay.

The sandy trail generally follows the stream up the canyon, and the beauty of the surrounding cliffs can not be understated. The cliffs in Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument are different than the sandstone cliffs of Zion National Park. Both formed by wind and water, but a single river formed Zion's main canyon, whereas Grand Staircase-Escalante has numerous rivers and tributaries creating a patchwork of formations. Hiking along the trail, I marvel at the rugged beauty of the canyon.

Calf Creek flows year-round, and nothing says "green" like water in the desert. Lush vegetation follows the stream, and juniper and pinion pine dot the hillside. Our elevation is higher here than you'd expect for this desert country. At 5,320 feet above sea level, the air can be cold, especially during the nighttime.

Water in the desert creates a ribbon of green following the stream

The extensive trail wanders among the trees and occasionally dips near the water. Across the canyon, one can see the rock art panel at the base of a large cliff. Several granaries are supposed to exist in the area, but I fail to locate them along the opposite hillside.

The trail finally drops onto the flood plain as the cliffs close in and squeeze the creek to a more narrow focus. It is still full, but during a flash flood, the water would flow from wall to wall.

Like all waterfalls, you can hear it before you see it, and I catch my first glimpse above the trees. Memories flood back as I walk through the trees into a small wooded grove surrounding the plunge pool. Many years ago, as a young scout, our troop leader was from the Boulder area. So our summer camping experiences often included hiking and camping in the Escalante area long before it became popular and a national monument. No one else was present on that long ago trail as a group of scouts burst through the underbrush to find a dozen college girls skinny dipping in the plunge pool.

The scene before me now differs significantly as families on blankets eat lunch, senior citizens rest in the cool of the shade, and couples pose for selfies in front of the falls. The falls are the only thing that remains the same. Breathtaking in it's sculptured form.

It's noisy with the large group of people all competing with the falls for sound volume as I take some pictures. It's difficult to time the photo when no one else is in the camera viewfinder, but I manage to get a couple of shots in the vertical plane. The water is cold even in August, so very few are swimming. I smile at the memory and sit down on a bank of grass to eat a snack.

I don't linger due to the crowds, but I am grateful for the return visit as I hike back along the trail—the sun sets early in these canyons as I emerge back into the hustle and bustle of the campground. Clouds have started to form along the horizon as I finish dinner, and thunderclap booms through the canyons echoing off the many walls. My tent rain flap is in position, and it could prove to be intense tonight as the rain begins to fall, and people scramble to find shelter.