There was something about today that really made me hurt. I am tired. We are tired. My feet and my ankle stabilizer muscles are sore. Maybe it was the 20 miles over rough cross country desert terrain. Or maybe it’s the fact that we’ve been putting in hard long miles over the past six days. What ever be, we are a day and a half away from a hotel in Hanskville, where we take a nero and a zero day to rest. I just want to sit on my ass for a day. Hmm. The shit we do for fun. Pure masochism. Or is it simply the notion that I like how raw and primordial this kind of shit makes me feel. It is human nature to wander in nature and explore, walk long distances for days on end
Anyhow, moving on to the days events. What can i say other than we awoke from our campsite in the wash paralleling the highway at around 6am, the moon shining on us like a spotlight and Jupiter chasing after it. I don’t know if what we did was legal but neither is smoking pot in most states. Whatever be, I am sure we left our nasty stench there, making the wash inhospitable for other creatures.
Crossing the bridge over the used and abused Colorado River, we climbed the cliffs to make it to the dirt road that leads to Canyonlands Maze District. But that was not our prospective for the day. After six miles on this road, carrying 9 liters of water and 3 days of food on our muley backs, we made it to a wash that eventually led us to a canyon wall we had to climb to get to the rim. How the fuck do we get our fat asses and packs up this wall? At this point today, I was feeling more jack ass hauling my god awful waterlogged pack than Alex Honold. Finally Pete, the 5.12 climber that can read rock walls like his life depended on it, spoke up. “There is our class 4 chimney we have to climb.”Son of bitch, Pete, i knew i brought you along for a reason.
So up we go up the scree field, and eventually our chimney, Cuban B, the power hiker, being the first one up of course. That’s when he says, BearLee, we need the rope. My cocky as says, no we don’t, how hard can it be? Oh never mind, let me yank out my rope that I’ve been hauling for 150 miles. We used that rope to haul the packs up the chimney, making sure not the scrape them too bad.
After that, the best part of the day was upon us. Hooray, hooray! It was never ending route finding over washes, gullies, and hills with the sun robbing us of our hard earned 9 liters of water. After about 4.5 hours of this route finding nonsense over these Red Benches, we finally made it to the rim of Fiddler Cove Canyon. And of course, how the f_ck do we get down into the canyon? Needless to say, our tired bad asses found the route down this 500 foot drop. Once at the bottom, it was still another 1.75 miles to the Dirty Devil River, which, guess what, we cannot even drink because apparently it is so dirty, alkaline, and silty. Hence, why we hauled 9 liters of water. In conclusion, what we thought would be a 17 mile day, somehow ended up being 20. At least we were done by 6;30 pm and the moon is full and beautiful. Oh and we have the pleasant sound of the Dirty Demon River (I mean Dirty Devil River) as background noise.