"We are here to unlearn the teachings of the church, state, and our educational system. We are here to drink beer. We are here to kill war. We are here to laugh at the odds and live our lives so well that Death will tremble to take us." C. Bukowski
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Monday, October 6, 2014
Sheets Canyon is one of many slot hikes on the Notem Road side of Capital Reef. Ms Ranger at the Park Headquarters information desk said we might encounter "ankle-deep water." What she didn't say was that the mud is much deeper than the water…and slippery, too! But these unexpected events are the building blocks of Adventure, right?
Well, it depends on who you ask… and I wouldn't ask Jim just yet; till he gets over the complete submersion of his camera. :((
Wiseone's Susan and Maikel led this slot hike. They have totaled more than a month boondocking in this area and thus are elected Authorities By Ballot. Jim, Gayle, Debbie, and Bobbie and I are their "Lab Rats" for this maze. Right off the bat we seem to get lost. "How can one get lost in a slot canyon," you ask? That's a good question, and the answer depends on who you ask :))
Anyhoo, we are immediately thrust to abandon the slot and cling to the sandstone cliffs by fingernails in order to avoid wading/swimming/mud/ CREATURES OF THE DEEP!!! Frankly, I, for one, would rather be eaten by a "creature" than fall to my death. But what do I know?
Here's an important hint/lesson in Slot Canyoneering: Muddy shoes and sandstone cliffs do not mix. The pools are pretty much full due to the recent rains, and there is enough mud to build an adobe city. We did our best, and succeeded for a while, to build stone stepping stones pathways through the mire, but one by one we all started going down, starting with Debbie.
I decided to quit risking my life on the cliffs and plunged into the mud and water, but I was the only one wearing cheap old running shoes…as opposed to 200 dollar hiking boots. I understand the reluctance, but to lose you life over a couple hundred dollars didn't seem worth it to me. And then there was the smell of the mud. Anaerobic, putrified, stank!!! It doesn't come off easy either, FYI.
So the smarter people in the group decided to turn back, shortly after they had crossed and climbed numerous cliffs beyond return. The Stupids wished them "Good Lucks" and "Be Carefuls" and returned to wading muddy water cold enough to churn Ice Cream. You know what? Once you lose feeling in your lower extremities it's very difficult to walk where you want to go. I mean I told my legs to step over such and such rock and to the side of random muck, but do you think they would listen? Nope. It was if I was on a bender, and a miracle that no bones were broken with so many Aron Ralston opportunities.
We all made it back, tho, and these will be the stories we tell our grandkids… except for the people in the smart group, who decided the earth had enough children and worried that, in spite of genetics, what if their children turned out to be the ones in the dumb group, and thus decided not to risk the unpredictable nature of "recessive" genes, which has the additional side benefit of putting additional hundreds of thousands of dollars in their retirement accounts (sigh).