On a beautiful November day we hiked though Zion national Park. It was both warm in the sun and cool in the shade that day. While trekking along after our night in the back country, we peered down off the side of the trail into a gorgeous and tempting slot canyon. After last nights amazing views off of Cable mountain, where the vista sat atop a 2,000ft vertical cliff, we weren't quite ready to close the trip.
After sizing it up, we ba
ck tracked a little ways and found an access point at which we could enter the slender narrows of this innocent canyon. from the trail we could see the dry river bed below but when we entered the canyon we were somewhat surprised to see that we must cross a small body of water to continue. After piling a few stones in the shallow pool we managed to cross with our heavy packs and cameras in hand.
Continuing onward, the highly photogenic canyon was quickly bombarded with the clicking of our SLR's and awe struck gazes. rounding a few corners we reached another, larger pool of water. Thirsty for adventure, we climbed up onto the walls, where a steep ledge allowed us to jump from side to side across the narrow waterway with only the slightest bit of hesitation.
Once all three of us, and our packs were safely across the lagoon we blazed the trail onward with high spirits. Just past the curving slender walls we were frustrated to see yet another, much larger body of water with what seemed to have no end to its depths in sight. looking back momentarily we realized that the final leap from our last obstacle made heading back near impossible. The vast expanse of water ahead of us made my heart sink into darkness, just like the rocks we tossed while testing its depth. standing in contemplation we noticed actual trail winding above us on the rim, so we heard the occasional hiker comment "oh look they're doing that canyoneering he spoke of" likely referring the the park ranger who told them how complicated and dangerous the activity was. Feeling somewhat amateur, we continued to ponder the situation at hand: getting out before the rangers stop by and force feed us variations of "I told you so".
luckily with Orion being such an agile problem solver and the canyon being so narrow, he set out across the water by propping himself against the two walls using hand and foot. After a period of negotiating the curvature of the walls he managed to climb up and onto the trail where through a couple of failed attempts we threw up some rope so that he could haul our packs up and out.
Looking again to the path ahead of me I couldn't even fathom attempting what Orion had done. Doubting that the water was deeper than 6'5", I striped down, held my pants and boots in a bundle over my head, and placed my feet into the frigid water. Once at waist depth, I saw the brighter side of my cold, tiresome situation: this was the closest thing to a shower I had had in countless days of traveling and trekking. Continuing, I waded through two additional pools before finally getting to the outlet into a much larger canyon where the trail sloped down to the river bed. I turned back, standing in my white, now see through boxers, to behold a group of spectators up on the trail watching our struggles unfold. By expressing such confidence in our actions, we appeared to be legitimate adventurers.
As soon as Mike finished assisting Orion with sending our packs up the canyon wall he followed my lead through the mucky waters and we made it out intact, aside from my camera, which suffered a fractured detachment from its lens during a toss of my pack. Nothing a little superglue won't likely fix. Later that night we met up with some of our travel friends, Sir. Williams from the UK and Mike from Illinois. We feasted around a campfire with a protein filled dinner of steak kebabs and exchanged stories from our travels that day.
I'm not a fan of the self oriented head shot but I don't think anyone else was about to risk their fingers in that cold.
