TALES FROM THE CANYON Day 5

TALES FROM THE CANYON

August 17 – 24, 2022

Monday, August 22 – Day 5

SUMNER: You saved my life, man!

HAWKINS: Any time. Hall, put that driftwood out to dry. I wonder if you can eat snakes.

(Men On Boats by Jaclyn Backhaus)

Breakfast: scrambled eggs with left over salsa and Ortega chilies from Mexican Night, ground sausage, watermelon, and hash browns. No snake. Not yet.

I rode up front in the middle seat of the “bathtub” all morning, and got pummeled by several rapids. So much for the middle seat being the tamest section of the “bathtub.” At one point, I got significant air time. Aha! This is why Sean warns us when we need to make sure to hold on with two hands. While I got lifted out of my seat, I experienced the downward force of the waves crashing directly on top of my head. It made me feel like an accordion.

Our first stop was Blacktail Canyon, a short slot canyon with an exceptional up close view of the Great Unconformity, a billion-year gap in geological history. Sean gave us an excellent lecture on this geological phenomenon, and we listened with rapt attention. Throughout the week, while Sean entertained us with his knowledge, as soon as he began mentioning years in the millions and billions before the dinosaurs existed, I could feel my eyes roll back in my head as smoke came out of my ears due to my brain incinerating. I just can’t wrap my head around the immense timeline. All I know is that if the history of the earth were compressed into one year, the T-Rex would have shown up on December 26th, while humans would have finally arrived on December 31st at 11:58pm.

After he explained the Great Unconformity, he paused to ask, “Does this make sense?”

“No,” I said. “But it’s fascinating! Keep talking.”

Here’s a brief explanation of the Great Unconformity for dummies: It is a separation of the Tapeats Sandstone from ancient Proterozoic rocks, due either to erosion or non-deposition probably as a result of large-scale glaciation during part of the Neoproterozoic era, between 720 million and 635 million years ago, which lead to extensive erosion of the earth’s crust. Make sense? It doesn’t matter, cuz it was cool!

Shortly after Sean’s thorough description, Donna and I got into a delightfully Socratic discussion with him and Natalia about the environment, human impact on the fate of the planet, spirituality, religion, atheism vs. agnosticism, and GOD. And in light of the quickly eroding health of our beautiful giant green and blue marble, Sean said something that I will always remember, and in a strange way, left me with hope.

“Throughout the history of the world, species have come and gone. There have been glaciers, floods, and draughts. But the earth always finds a way to heal itself. What is happening now will probably result in the extinction of us, if anything, but the planet will keep going on long after we’re gone. In a way, there is something kind of hopeful about that.”

I think he’s right. It is sad that we haven’t heeded the warnings all along. The tragedy will be when all of our carelessness results in our own destruction, but I believe planet earth will find a way back to homeostasis. And without humans to interfere, it will probably happen relatively quickly. Just look at how nature rallied during the lock-down of the pandemic. In the words of Dr. Ian Malcolm, played by actor Jeff Goldblum in those dinosaur movies, “Life finds a way.”

At lunchtime, we stopped at Stone Creek between mile 132 and 133. After helping Sean and Natalia unload the table and shade cover, Sean gave us directions to the waterfall, while he and Natalia prepared lunch.

Brian and I took off first, leading the way and finding the creek, following it for a short distance to the fall. As we walked through the water, I remarked on how warm it felt. The water was very shallow, and the sun was beating down, so I just attributed the warmth to the rocks radiating the sun’s intense heat. Soon we found the clear water cascades, and I immediately took off my hat, and set down my backpack, eagerly anticipating a clean water shower. As soon as I stood underneath it, I shouted, “Oh my God, Brian! It’s warm!”

I luxuriated in what felt like a miracle of nature while he set his stuff down, and then I moved out of the way, so he could have a turn. He whooped with unabashed glee. “Isn’t it amazing?” I said. I have no idea what caused it to be so warm, but it was like a magic trick.

Later, during our final evening in the canyon, while recalling our favorite moments of the trip, he and I agreed that this was one of our best-loved memories. “It felt like we had discovered it!” we laughed. Donna reminded us that she was not far behind us when we reached the waterfall, but as far as Brian and I were concerned, we did discover it.

After lunch, we traveled another three and a half miles to Deer Creek Falls, the biggest and most impressive of all the waterfalls we would see on this trip. I sat in the “Tea Room” because after that glorious warm waterfall shower I was the cleanest I had been all week, so I wanted to avoid getting muddy.

We journeyed through the narrowest section of the river just before entering Granite Narrows around mile 135, where the river is only 76 feet across, and it looked like something out of the Lord of the Rings films.

Upon arriving at Deer Creek Falls, Sean explained that we would be hanging out at this waterfall for a while and would have the option of either staying down at the pool or hiking to Upper Deer Creek. He did, however, warn us that the hike would require us to traverse a ledge in the carved narrows of Tapeats Sandstone that created the deep slot canyon the creek flowed through to reach the top of the falls. He said it could be scary for people with a fear of heights (That’s me!), but that this particular section was very short. Hmmmm. . . To hike or not to hike? That is the question.

“You can always turn around if you don’t think you want to do it,” he said. “Yeah, but by that time I’ve already climbed up most of the way in the scorching heat.” Ugggh! What to do?

I finally decided to go for it, and seven out of the fifteen of us opted to follow Natalia, the mountain goat, up the steep, hot trail. When we arrived at the scary section, Sean’s description was, once again, spot on! The trail was no more than a foot wide, and on my right side was a sheer fall to the bottom of the slot canyon, and on my left was a rock wall, which jutted out just enough to make me feel like I was leaning out over the cliff of death. Agggggh!!! Ohmygodohmygodohmygod!!!

Natalia recommended that it was best to face the rock wall and side step our way across while holding on to the rock. But this made me feel like I was going to fall backwards into the abyss, so I got down on my ass and scooted along like a lizard. . . Or a centipede. . . Or anything other than an upright human being. I needed to be as close to the ground as possible in order not to hurl myself over the edge. You see, people who do not possess a fear of heights don’t understand that the fear is not that you’ll fall, but rather that you’ll uncontrollably hurl yourself over. Don’t know what to tell you. Can’t explain it.

In fairness, I know that everyone was trying to be supportive and encouraging, but all their words of “instruction,” only fueled my mounting hysteria. Public service announcement: If you ever find yourself in this position, the only thing that is helpful to say to someone like me is, “Are you okay? Do you need any help?” Otherwise, SHUT UP!

“Everyone shut the f^%#@*k up!” is what I shouted, and I’m not proud of it, but I felt like I was on the brink of death, so I cannot be responsible for anything I said or did.

Anyway, Sean was correct again, and my near-death experience only lasted a short distance, and then we were in the clear, heading to an oasis that Natalia referred to as the “patio,” with a couple of smaller waterfalls and pools of clear, cool water. After exploring a bit and soaking in the pools, the majority of us found spots on the various large rocks either in the shade or sunbathing like a bunch of reptiles. I think I actually dozed off for a bit. Near-death experiences can really sap you of energy.

We rested on the “patio” for quite a while, when Natalia said, “Well, I guess we should probably be heading down.”

After gathering our stuff, we traversed across the death ledge once again. However, knowing what to expect, and the fact that it was a short distance, I managed to walk across it upright, but all the while muttering, “F**ksh*tf**ksh*tf**ksh*tf**ksh*t.”

“How does this compare to Angel’s Landing?” Donna asked me once we were past the death ledge.

Angel’s Landing is a well-known hike in Zion National Park with a narrow trail that has TWO sheer cliff drops on both sides, and it is not a short distance.

“Oh, this is nothing compared to that! You couldn’t even pay me to do that one.”

About halfway down the trail, we encountered Sean on his way up looking for us.

“What took you guys so long?” Sean asked Natalia.

“We were just hanging out. I thought you were coming up to join us.” She explained.

“No, I was getting worried!”

“Sorry, I was waiting for you.”

“I thought something had happened.”

“I’m sorry, I misunderstood. I thought you were joining us.”

This went on the entire way down the rest of the trail, and since I was following closely behind Natalia, I was the only one privy to this lover’s spat. I must admit that their agitation with each other made me feel better about my near-death ledge meltdown.

When we joined the others who had been waiting by the lower pool, Cheryl, one of the pediatricians from Texas, asked, "So how was it? Was it as bad as Sean described?"

"Yup. But it was a short stretch, so I lived to tell the tale."

Our campground tonight was one of the prettiest. Donna and I dubbed it Lion King Beach because. . . Well, there was a giant rock where I held up ‘Lil Sumner like Simba.

The only drawback to this beach, however, was that there was no easy access to a private pee spot. At least not for the women. The dudes – you know how it is – they can go anywhere. Not fair! And for some reason, Sean placed the Poop Box in a spot that was in clear view of one of the camp sites. When I pointed this out to him, he said, “Really? I put it pretty far up the trail.”

“Yeah, but you’re in plain sight of that tent over there.” I insisted.

After he checked it out, he simply came back saying, “Well, remember what I told you guys the first day? If someone is watching you, then there is something wrong with them.”

Ugggh. I wasn’t buying it, but since it was the penultimate night, I figured we had seen it all. What difference did it make at this point. (Funny thing, though. The camp site with a view of the Poop Box belonged to "The Problem" and their spouse. Ha! Have fun watching everyone do their business. Karma, Baby!)

Jenny, the OBGYN, and her family had been driven out of their chosen spot when they discovered a baby rattlesnake taking up residence. (These guys seemed to be having issues when it came to selecting camping sites.) Natalia came to their rescue and got rid of it. I don’t know how, exactly. I didn’t ask for details because I hate snakes and ignorance is bliss. I’m just glad I didn’t catch a glimpse of it because that would definitely keep me up all night. It’s a good thing we were elevated off the ground by cots. But now I’m gonna be freaking out when I had to get up in the middle of the night! At least no one suggested that we eat it.

Instead, dinner was grilled pork loin, apple sauce, baked beans, corn, coleslaw, and yellow cake with chocolate frosting for dessert.

I had an interesting conversation with Jenny’s son, Caden, about his involvement in a Country music band. Caden’s dad Doug, the orthopedist, was so clearly proud of his son and played us one of the band’s songs from his phone. The song is called, “Make Me Stay” and the band is Jesse Jenkins. You can find it on Spotify. It’s pretty good. Check it out.

Tonight it seemed like it was only the guys who stayed up playing games. They were very quiet, though, and one of them even came up to us and said, “I hope we’re not being too loud.”

They weren’t at all, and their quiet murmurings actually helped lull me to sleep.