I'm thinking all year is good here - Summer is probably busy - Winter is probably a little chilly but not bad
Anywhere you can stick your tent
When I set out for this journey I was planning on paddling 50 miles to Rainbow Arch and then 50 miles back to my car. I ended up lasting two nights. One night was spent on a beach planning out where I would go (after a Ranger advised me that it was a bad plan to paddle to Rainbow Arch due to strong Southwesterly winds). The second evening was undoubtedly my most miserable evening of my entire pinky up tour.
My master plan involved my whitewater kayak towing a trailer (a small inflatable raft) filled with all of my gear. As you can imagine my sporty little kayak doesn't have a whole lot of empty space so the trailer was a necessity. As you can see below, this did the trick. Although, the trailer slowed me down to somewhere between 1 and 2 mph paddling I was more than happy to sacrafice speed for shelter and food.
I packed up all my gear, loaded up the trailer. I even had my chemical waste bags for my number 2's and I was ready to go.
When I arrived at the landing I was curious why they require the chemical bag over the standard dig a hole and squat as all the big traveling port-a-potties called houseboats made the whole harbor smell like an over-used pit-toilet, but I'll do as I'm told.
What I should have done is heeded the Ranger's warning about the strong southwestern winds. After giving my trailer a tow for a good 5-6 hours I was starting to get hungry. I decided to look for a nice beach to pull over for a snack and when at this point I first noticed that strong southwestern wind which would continue to pick up for the remainder of the evening. I found a side canyon of a side canyon (Navajo Canyon) that looked perfectly secluded and protected. I was right about the secluded but I couldn't have been more wrong of the protected.
By the time I finished my snack there were little white caps out on the Navajo Canyon. This was quite the feat considering that the canyon was maybe 200 feet wide with at least 100 feet high vertical walls on each side. My little cranny had ronded walls whose floor was covered with a pretty thick layer of sand. I figured this would be an awfully comfortable spot for sleeping so I decided I would read until it was time for bed. Before I sat down to read, I made three attempts at setting up my tent. Each time, the wind wasn't having any of it.
After scrapping the idea of setting up my tent I set out to find a nice reading spot. The first spot I chose the wind from the south was blowing water from the lake in my face and the wind that swirled around in my little nook and it returned from the North blasting my face with sand from the other side. I suffered through four hours of frustration until the sunset, the wind died, the stars came out and now, it was one of the most peaceful nights I have experienced on my journey. When I stepped out of my tent to pee I stared up at the night's sky to see a shooting star nearly span the entire horizon. I quickly made a wish, not thinking that I should wish for something a little more immediate, like, say a good night's sleep. Nope, I'm not that wise. Instead, I tossed and turned for hours until the I saw the sun rising from the East.
By the time morning had settled in, I was all packed up and ready to head back for the landing. That evening was just too horendous even when I was greeted with the peaceful scene pictured above. I was nearly tempted to head further up the side canyon, to enjoy the sun and the water, but I was already sporting a cough and showing signs of the cold that I had been trying to kick for the past two weeks. So, I retreated for home in Hurricane. I may have to try this again - I mean I do have a whole set of chemical waste bags waiting for me to use.