A Pilgrimage into the Canyon: Attempting the Hopi Salt Trek
Setting Out on a Long-Awaited Journey
June 2025: At the end of June, over a three-day weekend, I headed to northern Arizona with my nephew, Hayden, to attempt the Hopi Salt Trek — a hike I had been wanting to do for years.
This route is accessible only by a 4WD track through Navajo tribal lands and is known for its remoteness and rugged terrain. The trail itself is poorly maintained, requiring plenty of rock scrambling and careful footing.
A Sacred Path of the Hopi People
The Hopi Salt Trail is steeped in cultural and spiritual significance. For generations, it has been a pilgrimage site for adolescent Hopi males, marking a rite of passage into manhood.
The journey leads down to the Little Colorado River at the bottom of the canyon, where participants collect salt to carry back to the top.
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The river and its springs are believed to be the origin of life for the Hopi people.
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Along the way, hikers encounter sacred rock paintings that tell stories of ancestry and tradition.
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The turquoise hue of the river comes from salt deposits seeping into the water, giving the canyon an otherworldly glow.
Why the Trek Calls to Adventurers
Even beyond its cultural depth, this hike has a strong allure:
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Challenging terrain
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Seldom visited and isolated from the crowds
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Majestic landscapes that feel untouched by time
An Unfinished Quest
We didn’t end up completing the hike this time and decided to reschedule for another attempt. Still, I got a valuable preview of the trail and the surrounding area — enough to fuel my determination to return.
Exploring Northern Arizona’s Hidden Gems
Although the trek itself remained unfinished, the trip was far from a loss. Over the weekend, we managed to explore an incredible variety of sites, including:
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A vast lava cave formed by ancient volcanic flows
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The impressive Meteor Crater, a reminder of Earth’s cosmic collisions
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Pueblo ruins that whisper of centuries past
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A dormant volcano rising over the desert landscape
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An overnight stay in a haunted historic hotel, once a hospital in a mining boom-and-bust town turned ghost town
Looking Ahead
The Hopi Salt Trek still waits for me, and now that I’ve seen its beginning, I’m more eager than ever to return.
Next time, I’ll be ready for the challenge — to reach the turquoise waters, stand at the sacred springs, and walk in the footsteps of countless generations before me.
Hogan
The Remote Road to the Hopi Salt Trailhead
The drive to the Hopi Salt Trailhead took us deep into a maze of dirt tracks winding through the extremely remote highlands, sitting at around 4,000 feet in elevation. Out here, houses are few and far between — and many of the ones we passed were weathered, leaning, or completely abandoned.
The remoteness was so extreme that even our GPS seemed confused.
Passing Through Navajo Lands
Along the way, we drove past numerous hogans — traditional Navajo dwellings made from logs, timber beams, and mud plaster. While hogans were once the primary homes of Navajo families, most today are used for ceremonial purposes rather than as everyday residences.
These ceremonial hogans play an important role in Navajo spiritual life, hosting healing rituals, blessings, seasonal ceremonies, and, in some cases, gatherings where peyote is consumed. They remain deeply respected spaces, functioning as a connection between the people, their ancestors, and the land.
My nephew on the Hopi Salt Trail
Camping on the Edge of the Canyon
The Hopi Salt Trailhead sits on the north rim of the Grand Canyon, overlooking the deep cut of the Little Colorado River. This river carves its own dramatic canyon before merging with the Colorado River — the same river that shapes the iconic landscapes of Grand Canyon National Park.
My nephew Hayden and I camped right at the trailhead, the only ones there. No houses were in sight, just the quiet sweep of desert and canyon edge. It was peaceful, and as the sun set, we organized our gear for the hike ahead.
A Long Drive to the Rim
I had driven nearly ten hours from San Diego that morning to reach this remote spot. The summer heat weighed heavily on my mind — the trail is dry and exposed, and because the Little Colorado’s turquoise water is too salty to drink, we would need to carry every drop of water down to the river and back up again.
A Change of Plans
The next morning, we got a late start. From an early viewpoint on the trail, I could already see that the river’s color had not yet recovered from flash floods two weeks earlier — instead of its famous turquoise, it was still running a murky brown.
Between the heat, the weight of our water, and the disappointing river conditions, I decided it would be wiser to postpone the hike until October, when the weather would be cooler and the river almost certain to show its peak color.
Hopi Salt Trail
An Unexpected Detour to the Grand Canyon
With the Hopi Salt Trail off the table, we suddenly had extra time to explore. I promised my nephew that we would make the most of it, so we set our sights on one of the Southwest’s crown jewels — Grand Canyon National Park.
We drove to the West Rim, climbing in elevation until we reached an overlook at nearly 7,000 feet. From there, the canyon opened up beneath us — an endless expanse of layered rock, shadow, and light. The view felt different from the remote Little Colorado Canyon we had camped beside the night before; this was the Grand Canyon in all its scale and glory, vast enough to make you feel small and timeless all at once.
Grand Canyon National Park
Meteor Crater – A Giant Scar from the Sky
We also made a stop at Meteor Crater, also known as Barringer Crater, located near Winslow, Arizona. It’s considered one of the best-preserved meteorite impact sites in the world — and in all my travels, I can’t recall seeing anything quite like it.
Formed about 50,000 years ago by a nickel–iron meteorite traveling an estimated 26,000 miles per hour, the crater measures roughly 3,900 feet across and 560 feet deep. Standing there, it’s humbling to imagine the force of the impact that created such a massive, perfectly shaped depression in the desert.
Unfortunately, the site sits on privately owned land, and a fence runs around the rim to prevent visitors from walking to the edge. The only way to see it is by entering the visitor center and paying $30 per person.
While the crater itself is undeniably fascinating, the setup felt a bit like a tourist trap. Paying that much for a quick look — after driving 70 miles out of our way — left me questioning whether it was worth it. Still, for anyone with an interest in space, geology, or unique natural wonders, it’s a sight that’s hard to forget.
Barringer Crater meteorite crater
Discovering Wupatki: Ruins and a Volcano
While trying to make the most of my National Park Pass, we veered off the main highway to visit Wupatki National Monument, a place I had never heard of before. Set in northern Arizona’s high desert, the monument protects dozens of ancient pueblo ruins alongside the striking cinder cone of Sunset Crater Volcano.
The midday heat was brutal, baking the desert floor and making the air shimmer, but the reward was worth it. The highlight was Wupatki Pueblo, often called the pueblo “castle” — the largest multi‑story pueblo in the region, built from deep red sandstone. Constructed between the 11th and 13th centuries, it once housed 85–100 people and served as a hub for trade and community life among the Ancestral Pueblo peoples.
Standing beside its towering walls in the middle of the desert was unlike anything I’d seen before in Native American ruins — a fortress-like structure that seemed both improbable and perfectly suited to the surrounding landscape.
Nearby rose the black-and-red slopes of Sunset Crater, a dormant cinder cone volcano that erupted roughly 950 years ago. Its ash and lava once blanketed the region, enriching the soil and allowing communities like Wupatki to flourish in an otherwise harsh environment.
Wupatki National Monument Pueblo Ruins
Exploring Lava River Cave: Arizona’s Longest Lava Tube
Easily a favorite for both my nephew and me was Lava River Cave, located in Coconino National Forest about 14 miles northwest of Flagstaff. This mile‑long lava tube, formed roughly 700,000 years ago during a volcanic eruption, is the longest of its kind in Arizona.
It’s completely wild — no lights, no handrails, no paved paths — just a raw, ancient tunnel of basalt where you’re free to wander on your own. We ventured about 40 minutes into the cave before turning back, making sure to get out before nightfall so we could make it to our ghost‑town accommodations. Even in that short journey, the cool air, total darkness, and echoing stillness made it unforgettable.
Lava River Cave, located in Coconino National Forest
Lava River Cave, located in Coconino National Forest
Jerome – From Copper Kings to Bohemian Revival
A Wild West boomtown reborn on the edge of the mountains
Boomtown on Cleopatra Hill
Perched dramatically on the slopes of Cleopatra Hill, Jerome sprang to life in the late 1800s when rich copper deposits were discovered. By the 1920s, it had swelled to nearly 15,000 residents—mostly miners, gamblers, and fortune-seekers. In those days, Jerome was infamous for its saloons, gambling halls, and brothels, earning it a reputation as one of the rowdiest towns in the West.
From Underground Tunnels to Ghost Town
Mining began with deep underground tunnels but later expanded into massive open-pit operations under Phelps Dodge. By the 1930s, the copper veins were thinning, and when the last mine closed in 1953, Jerome’s population plummeted to fewer than 100, leaving behind a crumbling shell of a once-thriving community.
Artists Bring the Town Back to Life
In the 1960s and ’70s, painters, sculptors, musicians, and free spirits began moving in, restoring weathered buildings and transforming Jerome into the quirky, bohemian hillside town it is today—part ghost town, part creative haven, and still clinging stubbornly to its Wild West spirit.
A Night in the Haunted Hospital
That night, we stayed in the Jerome Grand Hotel, formerly the United Verde Hospital. Built in 1926 in the Spanish Mission style, it was the most modern hospital in Arizona at the time, complete with an Otis elevator that still runs today. Perched high on Cleopatra Hill, it served the booming mining town for decades, treating sick, injured, and dying miners. Over the years, more than 9,000 people passed away here—many from mining accidents or illnesses caused by the dangerous conditions underground.
After the mines closed, the hospital sat abandoned for decades. Locals whispered of strange happenings: footsteps echoing in empty corridors, the faint scent of flowers where no plants were present, and the ghostly figure of a nurse drifting through the halls. When it was renovated into a hotel in the 1990s, it kept its eerie reputation intact.
One of the most haunted rooms—Room 32—was just a few doors down from ours, known for flickering lights and sightings of a tall, shadowy figure. Sadly (or perhaps fortunately), no spirits made themselves known to us that night, though the weight of the building’s history lingered in every creak of the floorboards.
Jerome
Jerome Grand Hotel