Tucked away in the remote stretches of very northern Arizona is the Vermilion Cliffs National Monument. And within this area lie many bizarre and intriguing wonders of nature. The world-famous Wave, Buckskin Gulch (the longest slot canyon in the world), South Coyote Buttes, and one more... It's White Pocket. A place that looks more like a dreamy hallucination than an image of Arizona.
Unimaginable rock formations, swirling layers of white, orange, and pink sandstone — it's one of the most bizarre landscapes in the American Southwest.
Yep, this is yet another area that has taken three attempts to check the box. Luckily, you do not need a permit to visit. Why, you ask? Well, let's just say that White Pocket is special for more reasons than its beauty — but mainly because it is incredibly challenging to get to. It's not so much the 25 miles of dirt road, but the last 7-mile stretch where things get really interesting. This is the point where most people in standard vehicles should turn around. But they don't... Many signs warn of this preceding area, stating that high clearance 4-wheel drive is required. Many choose to ignore...Many get stuck.
The Journey In: Deflate to Exhilarate
As stated above, the last 7-mile stretch of the drive involves deep, loose sand that leaves standard vehicles resting on their frame. Just before hitting this area, we stopped in the middle of the hard-packed dirt road and aired down all four tires for better traction in the sand. Okay, Let's do this!
Shifting into four-wheel drive and punching the gas with no intentions of stopping, we start to power through the ungulating path, kicking up plumes of sand, while feeling the terrain pull and slow us down. I'm really tense trying to fight the steering wheel and struggling to stay on the road (what road?).
Powering along like in a Baja 500 race, we navigated deep sandy ruts, low-hanging tree branches, and sudden rock outcroppings, which we bounced over. No! I am not slowing down and getting stuck, just hold the hell on!
After an exhilarating, tense rally, we finally reached White Pocket and could get back to the last bit of normal dirt road before shifting into P. No cell service. No trail signs. Just instinct, and a constant growing sense of anticipation as the otherworldly rockscape juts up out of the desert horizon. We gear up, lather on the sunscreen, and start our trudge through deep sand for the next couple of hundred yards. Before you know it, we hit the bizarre outcropping of white, reptilian-looking rock.
It's been described as walking on a human brain, frozen clouds, and cauliflower. To us, it was like walking on an albino alligator's back. The first area we hit is a lone pine, growing straight out of the white, geometric sandstone. Just bizarre, I mumble with no other descriptions to tag it.
We worked our way towards a mixed swirl of colors and textures. It looked like a pastry chef was in the midst of frosting a marble cake and got hit by a tsunami, followed by gurgling agitations. Mother Nature! What in the H... E... double L have you created? Better yet, what were you on when you created it?
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We kept working our way atop the nightmare of bewildering textures, continuously pulling us further along. I just couldn't get enough and kept getting drawn atop this outlandish scene. It just can't get more bizarre, and then it does, and look! There's more, and then more, and more. After four hours, STOP, Christine yells. We've gone far enough — we need to go set up camp before it gets dark. You're right, as we navigate a new route back to find the truck.
NIGHTFALL: A Camp Beneath a Billion Stars
Back at the truck, we head down a jaunt of the only other dirt-ish road and soon find ourselves making camp just before sunset on the skirt of White Pocket. The sky was painted in shades of coral and indigo as we poured ourselves a much-welcomed Tequila cocktail and deflated ourselves into camp chairs. Tonight we celebrate — we were solo in this very remote area, just us and the presence of white pocket framing in the Arizona sky. Soon, another round of cocktails flowed as I laid down a thick rib-eye on a hot cast-iron skillet along with some shaved Brussels sprouts. Damn, does it get any better...?
As night fell, the temperature did too. With zero light pollution, the heavens put on a bedazzling show. The Milky Way arched overhead in a display that made us feel small in the best possible way. Music set the mood, and before long, we found ourselves dancing naked and barefoot in the sand beneath the weightless dome of the desert sky. This night is never going to end... Eventually, we tire and drift off to sleep to the faint howls of desert yotes echoing off the distant sandstone canyon walls.
Into the Swirls of Solitude and Silence
The next morning, we rose with the sun and sipped hot camp coffee while making sense of our presence and reflecting on the previous day. What will today bring? Soon enough, we set out again for a new excursion through the rockscape — this time choosing a different direction, toward a patch of crackled-rock domes we'd spotted the day before to the Northeast.
We didn't see a single soul for the first four hours. Just a breeze, stone, sky, and four ravens cawing about. It's hard to overstate the serenity of White Pocket and the bizarre energy that swirls throughout. There are no trails, which is part of what makes it so magical. You're free to wander — carefully — across the undulating rock, each turn revealing strange new formations: brain rocks, checkerboard ridges, stone waves frozen in motion.
The colors are mesmerizing. One moment you're on white, bleached stone that looks like cracked porcelain; the next, you've crossed an unexplained geological line and you're walking across burnt orange rippled layers that shimmer in the morning light. As a hobbyist landscape photographer, you absolutely lose your mind here. The scape is so vast that I have to stitch 4-5 photos together to make one panoramic scene.
I often found myself in BOKETTO. The act of gazing vacantly into the distance, lost in thought or in no thought at all. A still, wordless space where the mind wanders like a soft breeze, unburdened by purpose.
We spent hours exploring, stopping only to hydrate and gawk at where we would saunter next. The landscape seemed to shift with the light — familiar ridges looked entirely new by mid-afternoon. I cannot tell if I have had my fill or not. Eventually, we feel that we have covered most of this rock island, surrounded by sand. My brain more exhausted than my feet; I cannot comprehend anymore...
Taking the long way back to camp, we slowly pack up, not wanting to leave. One last exhale and long stare before throwing the truck into four. And just like that, we began the wild-ride back out through the sand, a little dustier, a little sunburned, and completely awe-struck.
Elements of White Pocket
An adventure in. An adventure there. An adventure out.
White Pocket isn't for everyone. It's very remote, unforgiving, rugged, and unmarked — but for those who crave real adventure, it's a place where Earth's wildest artistry is on full display. You won't find restrooms or rangers, but what you will find is silence, wonder, and the humbling beauty of nature untouched, because White Pocket doesn't just show you something strange — it proves to you that there is an outlandish artistic existence in this ever seemingly kaki world. You just need to search for it and have the guts and ability to get there...
To view more photos and blogs, venture onto my site by clicking EFlattVisualart.com
Credits:
The State of Arizona, The Vermilion Cliffs.