I arrived at the Yant Flat trailhead early in the afternoon on the second day of my trip. The cross-bedded structures on the cliffs are best viewed when the sun is at a low angle. So my plan was to make a quick scouting trip down to the rocks, then return to my truck and wait until about an hour or two before sunset, and return. Then, around an hour before sunrise the next day, I would make a third trip to the rocks.

The trail goes south for about 1.3 miles. The first half mile follows a gentle downward slope on smooth gravel. Then there is another half mile of undulating trail with rocks of various sizes that must be stepped over or around. The final segment is sandy and uphill. The last 100 yards is the sandiest and steepest. But it isn’t hard. You can do the whole thing in 30 or 40 minutes.

Yant Flat can be divided into two segments: eastern and western. The trail ends at the top of a steep section on the western side. It isn’t obvious how to get to the bottom, but a few ways can be found that let one walk down, albeit very steeply.

I carefully descended and walked around this section, which under overhead sunlight doesn’t look at its best. There are subtle bands of color running through the rocks, and some vegetation exists to break up the monotony. After a while I climbed back to the top and made my way up the trail to my truck, climbed in, and waited for the golden hour to arrive. (On this first pass, I created a track on my gaia gps phone app. This would become useful later.)

For the second pass, I again took my D800e and RX10-iv, tripod, trekking pole, and headlamp, and returned to the western section. The rocks did indeed appear much nicer in low-angle light. About half an hour before sunset, I climbed back up the steep rock and walked eastward for about half a mile and descended south into the eastern section. This section is flatter and has similar structure, but with more contouring in the rocks. I was a bit late for the best light. All but the tops of the hills had disappeared into shadow. I did get a decent blue hour shot, which appears here.

As the light was fading, I turned around and began walking back to the end of the trail at the western section. By the time I got there, it was too dark to find the trail. After fruitless searching for a few minutes, I fired up gaia gps on my phone and immediately saw the direction and distance to the trail, which was only a hundred yards away.

Once on the trail, I began my descent down the very sandy section. Soon I began to see little green and extremely bright glowing spots on the ground, like little LEDs. They were the eyes of numerous spiders and bugs reflecting the light from my headlamp back to my eyes. There were lots of them! I wondered what these little creatures thought of me, who must appear to them as a huge cyclops with a bright eye in the center of his forehead!

I was getting tired as I carefully crossed the rocky section on the way back to the truck. I was almost at the end when my right shoe caught on a rock as I was moving it forward. My momentum kept me going, but there was no right foot to put in front of me, so I began to fall. I immediately knew what was happening. I did get my right foot out in front, but it was too late. As I went down, I remember putting my hands out and, as they hit the ground, I had the thought, “I’m all right.” My right knee took the brunt of the fall, but I didn’t know it at the time. I had been carrying my camera on the tripod over my shoulder, and at some point during the fall I just let it go.

The next thing I remember is a feeling of great peace without a thought in my mind, and looking up at the stars. For a moment, the world was a wonderful place. The big dipper was so close, I could almost reach up and touch it. Time no longer existed.

It occurred to me about then that I was lying on my back and had better think about getting up. I could almost hear the spiders and bugs laughing their asses off! When I tried to sit up, my backpack, which was underneath me, made it difficult. I struggled to get out of the harness, then turned onto my side and lifted myself up into a sitting position. My headlamp was there on the ground. I tried to put it back on my forehead but got it on upside down and had to try again. The tripod was on the ground in front of me, with the camera still attached and the lens in the dirt. I unclipped the camera, wiped the dirt off the lens, and stowed the camera in my backpack. I should have done this before heading back up the trail. Then I folded up the tripod and attached the carrying harness, put on my cap, and, with a fair amount of effort, stood up.

The remaining half mile to the truck was uneventful. Once there, I wiped my knee with a cloth, saw blood, and cleaned the wound with water. There was some abrasion and about a half inch gash, but only skin-deep. I got out a couple of large gauze bandages, applied Neosporin, and secured this to my leg, running tape around the leg to keep it in place.

Then I took my pills, crawled into the truck bed, and tried to go to sleep. I was very disappointed. I decided that this trip was over. There would be no returning for sunrise. It was time to go home. I had a long time to mull over these thoughts because sleep wouldn’t come. My legs kept cramping, and my left foot had persistent strong pain. So I lay there, feeling miserable and sorry for myself, until dawn came. Date 5 May 2019, 20:23 Source Day 2: Yant Flat Author John Fowler from Placitas, NM, USA