Cool name for a band. We’re not touring but we are making records. Packing in as much crazy adventure as we can in less than a week. (The second week should be more chill.) We may have set the bar way too high because we are starting to feel it. Even the young gun woke up a little sore (which makes me feel a lot better.)
Today’s adventure is canyoneering: a full day of hiking, scrambling, and rappelling. (Guided of course. Out ropes were too heavy to pack.) Today might be the day we get to cut off an arm.
I’ve never met a guide I didn’t like. Jenny was worried we’d be stuck with a drill sergeant all day, but I assured her guides have to be sarcastic and “roll with it” kind of people to put up with whatever annoying tourists bring to the party on any given day. Today was no different – Jack delivered. (Or were we the annoying tourists? Not entirely sure.) At 7:30am, not understanding (yet) that everything that comes out of our mouths is a joke, we had to assure him of that, to which he said, “oh. It’s gonna be a good day!” Off to Unnamed Canyon we went. Literally. Doesn’t have a name.
It. Was. Freezing when we started out. “Oh, but it’s a dry cold.” Nope! 38 is 38 dry, wet, humid, it’s cold. Not to worry! Some steep incline hiking in sand will cure that! We are really starting to hate hills. And sand.
We connected with Jack immediately. He was self-professed salty which we matched with sarcasm. We learned a lot from Jack, like what the entire grand staircase is (the formations from Bryce to the Grand Canyon), where all the dog breeds came from (domesticated wolves, then breeding similar traits – his theory), and the colors of the rock are like rings in a tree. (Or something like that. Maybe we didn’t learn so much.)
There’s a long tunnel that was blasted through one of the peaks, which is amazing all on its own. I asked why there were windows and overlooks throughout the tunnel (it’s long). He said, again, theory, “when they were building it in 1928, every now and then they would blast a hole in the side of the rock, poke their head out, and say “Nope! Turn right now!” To be fair, there was a window every time there was a turn.
We also bonded over our hatred for stupid people. Miscreants who carve their initials into a tree. Hey Brad. Steph is not going to heart you at this same time next year. Put the knife down. Or people who show up two and a half hours late for an eight hour tour. I’m sorry you were supposed to be at Disneyland, Donna, and had to settle for this. Maybe you should go back to the spa Donna. You might be much happier.
After a hate filled walk up as steep of inclines as we’ve seen, including Angels, and this time through sand (blah blah blah we hated it. Cardio sucks) we arrived at our first rappelling spot. We were standing or rather balancing ourselves on a steep incline, similar to the fanned out deck of cards we climbed at Angels. It was hard enough to hold a diagonal stance let alone consider that we were about to walk to the edge of it and rappel down. I’d like to say kind of like jumping off a cliff but I think that’s actually what we’re doing. Jumping off a cliff.
A little freaked out by what she was about to do, Jenny immediately said, “you go first.” I’m used to the sort of thing. Although I didn’t learn this until I was an adult, every now and then my older sister let me do “cool“ things first. Just sometimes. Well it turns out those times were when she was a little afraid to go first and wanted to see if I’d get hurt before she decided to do something. (By the way, on the many times she did go first, she would always say “let me see if it’s safe for you.“)
So Jack strapped me in with the safety line named Bosco and the slack line named Roger that. The rules of the trip were: no throwing rocks, no scribbling on the canyon walls, and have fun. The rules of rappelling were: lean back, don’t freak out, don’t die. Sounds good to me. So, I simply started walking backwards which on a normal day can get a little sketchy. Then at the ledge, you just keep walking backwards but this time your feet aren’t under you, they’re in front of you. Easy Peezy. Jen overcame her initial fear and got down just as easily. It was on!
We continued on rappelling, scrambling, sliding, sometimes connected to the rope sometimes not, and we learned all the cool kid moves: the Egyptian, the spider, the Roman chair. Now, I can only imagine it’s called the Roman chair for the violence that occurs to your body when you’re not 27. Imagine you’re sitting in a chair with your back against the canyon wall and your legs straight out in front of you balancing like you’re in a chair. Rule three, right? Having fun dangling 20 feet above the canyon floor sitting in a pretend Roman chair!
It’s this next part that gets fun because you clearly don’t move parallel you move diagonally. To do so one foot shifts down a few inches and the other foot bends and goes underneath your butt. So you’re sitting on it. I don’t think I’ve been able to sit on my heels in that type of position since the Presidential Physical Fitness exam was a thing. But it was a pretty nifty move. I’m thinking of moving into a smaller place with a galley kitchen so I can continue to hone my craft for the next couple of years.
When we get to the second rappelling point, it’s Jenny’s turn to go first. We are good at sharing! As Jack was strapping her in, I really started to question if she had confidence since it appeared she had spontaneously started to pee. We soon learned her camelback mouthpiece started to leak at just the perfect time. Having fun yet?
I have to say I was impressed enough with my canyoneering skills and even more impressed that my knees didn’t shatter when I jumped off a two or 3 foot ledge. And when does that start happening? That your knees just don’t really take the impact of jumping off a ledge? Little miss camo pants obviously had no problem with this activity except for the one time she thought she had more slack in the rope. She thought she was secure on the floor but swung face first into the wall. That’s why we wear helmets?
Jack was really surprised by nothing. Not that we were really trying to impress. He did come around the corner to see Jenny in another perfect little mermaid pose on an opportunistic rock. Clare had her headstands in China. Jenny has her Ariel. We were proud to be the first and possibly only to ever pull that move.
Now the whole way up, Jack talked about his wife and their plans together and that if she doesn’t receive one selfie a day (he hates selfies by the way) that she’d be “mad.“ So we knew he was a good man. But we didn’t know how good until near the end. Linda. I need you to listen. Again. On all our previous hikes we were accustomed to the last minute bio break. It didn’t occur to us that upon leaving the hotel that was going to be our last civilized facilities. (I have no problem peeing in the woods. That wasn’t the issue.) We were in a somewhat tight spot that was about 8 feet up. Since we weren’t tethered in, Jack thought it best to stand there for our dismount, like a coach would in gymnastics. Jenny got down just fine. I was wiggling my way to make the slide and rumble rumble rumble… (Keep in mind that at the beginning of the hike, Jack said all Barraque noises are welcomed) and uh oh. The most delicate little toot escaped me. The look on Jack‘s face was priceless. It was a grin as if to say, “oh yeah. I know what you did.“ He just happened to be at the perfect level to receive the gift directly into his nose. He also took it like a man and got Dutch ovened in my waft until I stop laughing and managed to make my way down. I immediately yelled down the canyon to Jenny, “I just farted in Jack’s face.“ because we have no shame and like laughing at each other. (I didn’t have the heart to ask him if that was also a first.)
The final feat of strength was the ninja warrior challenge. This is where you play hot lava. There’s about 50 or 60 feet left in the canyon (we’re really not sure how much because math is hard) and you have to do your best Egyptian, spider, or Roman chair in any combination to get to the exit without touching the sand. Jenny hoisted her self on up and of course she finished the challenge. Because she’s baller. She was apparently only one of 11 people this year to complete the challenge. (Yes, I tried. I made it about 15 or 20 feet. I am happy just being ninja princess.)
Goodbye Zion! You’ve been good to us.
INJURY REPORT: bruised right hip from harness. Jammed nail (The hairstylist says that’s legit. It hurts a lot.)
Bruise update: it’s getting ugly (the photo from yesterday was taken today.)
Roam Free 