Hole-in-the-Rock Road

In 1879, Mormon pioneers blasted a wagon road through this slickrock maze, lowering their wagons down a near-vertical cliff face with ropes and pulleys to reach the Colorado River below. That cliff—the actual Hole-in-the-Rock—sits at mile 57 of what’s now one of Utah’s most honest backcountry drives. The Hole-in-the-Rock Road runs 57 miles southeast from Highway 12 near Escalante, crossing the heart of Glen Canyon National Recreation Area on sand, slickrock, and washboard that’ll rattle your fillings loose.

Any stock 4WD can make this run, but high clearance helps when the sand gets deep and the washes cut steep. The first 36 miles to Dance Hall Rock—a natural amphitheater where pioneers held community gatherings—stays relatively tame on packed sand and gravel. Past Dance Hall Rock, the road deteriorates into loose sand, rock ledges, and rutted sections that separate the prepared from the hopeful. The final push drops 1,200 feet through increasingly technical terrain to the overlook above Lake Powell, where you’ll stare down the slot the pioneers somehow navigated with ox-drawn wagons.

Spring and fall offer the only reasonable weather windows—summer heat kills unprepared travelers out here, and winter mud makes the route impassable. Cell service vanishes after the first few miles, and the nearest fuel sits 57 miles behind you in Escalante. Carry extra water, food, and a spare tire minimum. The BLM allows dispersed camping throughout, and you’ll find established sites at Dance Hall Rock and several scenic pullouts. Plan a full day for the round trip, longer if you’re prone to stopping for photographs of the Straight Cliffs and Navajo Sandstone formations that wall this route.

What you get is solitude in country that hasn’t changed much since those pioneer families scraped through in wooden wagons. No crowds, no cell towers, no amenities—just 57 miles of Utah desert that demands respect and rewards it with views most people never see. The drive back reveals details you missed on the way in, and by the time you hit pavement again, you’ll understand why those pioneers called this the most difficult wagon road ever constructed in the American West.