“Company Loves Misery.” Isn’t that the old saying? In this scenario, I am referring to Fat Man’s Misery, a slot canyon in Utah. I have to say, it’s one of my personal favorites, and I have shared good company in it the two trips I’ve taken through it. A few weeks ago I dragged a friend visiting from out of town through. Okay, she went willingly, and we’re still friends, even though the walk out of the canyon at mid-afternoon along the three miles of exposed slickrock in 108 degree temperatures, made me question once or twice if tomorrow she would still be my friend or if she would ever consider visiting me again. More about that later…

This story began in the Watchman campground at about high noon on a Saturday. Ron, Leanne and I had secured our tents, and Luke was on his way over to the campsite for a visit. Thunderclouds were rolling in, and boy were we happy about two things. One, we had our permit in hand. When a flash flood warning is declared they stop issuing permits for at least eight hours. Even if you aren’t planning your trip until the follow day. This has botched our plans before. Two, we weren’t already in a slot canyon. There is a reason they stop issuing permits for up to eight hours and it’s a damn good one! The last place you want to be when the monsoon thunderstorms start rolling in is in the middle of a tight slot canyon.

We kicked back and watched the lightning display over a few cold beers. As we studied the increasing number of fat raindrops with curiosity, we wondered if we were going to get Leanne’s introductory canyon, Keyhole Canyon, under her belt before tomorrow’s 9.25 miles of Misery. Keyhole is only a .7 mile total loop hike, but has all you need to know to decide if the sport is for you or not. There’s pretty narrows, a few rappels (albeit short ones), some down-climbs, and (this season) a swimmer or two. Now the rain had stopped and there was a lingering cool breeze. The 110 degree wall of heat we arrived to had been doused and it had to be at least 30 degrees cooler. With the storm subsided, we managed to get out to Keyhole before losing the sunlight. The whole time I was trying to gauge Leanne’s state. I decided she was reserved, but not nervous. I decided this was good. She even joked about the “Keyhole Stew” we had to swim through. I could see it in her eyes, she was ready for tomorrow.

The shaded walk in towards Fat Man's Misery.

The morning was just gorgeous. The previous evening’s rain had cooled things down, and we had managed an early start getting to the parking area just as the sun was beginning to rise. Apart from almost forgetting our rope, we were clear in the mind and heart as we marched past the Checkerboard Mesa. I remembered how pretty the walk in was and it felt good to be back. My guest was in good spirits and we were all chatting as Ron led the way, and Luke took numerous photos at the back of the line. Then I heard a deep pitched “bonk.” It was one of those sounds that you recognize immediately because you have created it yourself before. Like a tangible memory, I felt an aching pain in my forehead and the muscles in my face squeezed. I turned around to see Leanne sitting on the sandy canyon floor, legs spread out before her, with a dazed expression. “Man, it knocked her off her feet, ” I thought, as I eked out the words, “Are you okay?” The old fallen log angled over her head was the obvious culprit. Leanne’s no baby, I do know this about her. She quickly recovered, dusting herself off and resuming with a smile.

View from on top of the pass.

Cool looking cairn.

The yellow brick road...

As we trudged up the sandy pass, I knew a playground of slickrock and pines were awaiting us on the other side. This motivated me to keep placing one foot in front of the other, even though I could see myself sliding back down and evidence of any progress was difficult to measure. Once at the saddle, we were rewarded with a stunning 360 degree view, where one world is divided from another. Ahead I could see far towards the horizon, where huge table-top mesas dotted the skyline, like the backbone of a colossal creature. Between there and where we were, our destination slot canyon lies carved into the earth making its way to the Virgin River. Once we passed the rock formation I like to refer to as the “ice cream cone,” the scenery really opened up. Rolling “hills” of slickrock lie before you like hard baked waves. Ribbons of orange, red, gold and pink stream through the ground’s surface shooting off in all directions like a sadistic version of the yellow-brick road. The sandstone dunes are broken sparingly with the dark green foliage of twisted pines that have forced their way up through the bed of sandstone by a sheer will to live. I was glad to be enjoying this scene in the morning, for I feared the walk back through this area in the afternoon heat would not be as pleasant. I remembered that part well from the last trip, and that was in April. Here we were in mid July. I only thought these thoughts, not wanting to frighten Leanne into staying in the cool narrows for eternity.

Heart-shaped potholes.

driftwood?

Sneaky frogs.

As we dropped down toward to the entrance to the canyon, a barrage of potholes pointed the way. Holes mysteriously shaped like hearts and deep bowls, one of which was lined with silent frogs, hoping we would simply pass by without noticing them. Then the real fun began. I always seem to enjoy an experience more myself when I can discover its pleasures in my own time. There’s nothing more uninspiring than your guide telling you when to feel inspired. So for Leanne’s benefit, I tried to contain my “oohs” and “ahhs,” as the canyon walls began to rise on either side of us. The first set of turns in a slot canyon always get my heart racing. I yearn to capture a moment like that in my memory as accurately as I can, so when I am old and frail I can recall it in perfect intensity. The visual appeal of the over-lapping curves, the slight musty smell, the coolness of the rock in shadow; these sensations I mentally record. I spread my arms to either side and let my fingertips touch the walls, lightly grazing the surface as if I could decode the canyon’s mysterious braille.

Leanne takes the slide.

Reflection pool.

The Grotto!

Fat Man’s Misery just seems to bring out the poet in me. It’s a gentle canyon that closes and opens again and again, dipping you into deep wet cavernous spaces then plopping you back out into the sunshine again to dry. It cycles in a loop of rinse and repeat, until sadly, it is over. The first time I came here I knew I wanted to paint it. It was the grotto that appealed to me the most. Being a dark space, I didn’t get any good photos of it. This time I caught one, and I love it. It’s the one that my painting is inspired by. The first time I saw the grotto it was full of water. I had to swim from one end to the other. I couldn’t wait to jump in. I glided slowly through the crystal clear water, noticing how the reflections leaked in sparingly from the ends of the cavern. A large arch rose overhead, and a small sandy beach lay at the other end dappled in reflective light. At the other end, I was sad it was over. The second time, there wasn’t nearly half the water there had been before. This time I could stroll through the passage, taking in the sights, studying the magnificent arches. Now I could make a painting. The exit out of the grotto is stunning as well. The light comes streaming in here as the canyon once again opens up for you. Reflections from the water bounce along the golden surface of the wavy carved sandstone walls. It is a temple in the desert. To our surprise we found a deer carcass lying in the shallow bottom here, as if it were a sacrifice to the gods.

Glittery grotto exit.

Sacrifice to the Gods.

Luke slides into the hot pool.

Leanne in the Virgin River.

A rest stop.

The grand finale of Fat Man’s Misery is a series of twisting waterslides that eventually spill you into a hot spring pool. Maybe it was the July summer heat creeping back in, but it was hard to enjoy the hot spring this time. It just didn’t feel all that hotter than everything else around it already was. We reminisced about the past trip when the hot spring pool was teeming with algae and how we encountered the creature from the green lagoon. Leanne had seen the photos. I’ve included some of my favorite photos at the end of my blog here from my first trip, just for posterity’s sake.

Now it was mid-day and we savored the coolness of the Virgin River and our river walk, soaking and splashing, trying to avoid the thought of the inevitable hike out. I was so blissfully gazing into the river that I didn’t notice the low lying log propped up in my path. Bonk! There was that sound again. Leanne and Luke cooed out a collective, “Ooooooh,” before bursting into fits of laughter followed by my own. “You just can’t let your guard down for one minute out here!” I laughed.

All too soon we were at the hike out point along the river. With a deep breath, and water dripping everywhere, I began the long slog out. By the time I reached the top of the climb out everything on me was dry as a bone. We started to joke, that this part was the true Fat Man’s Misery. Soon we could see where the turn into the hollow would happen. But knowing how deceptive distance is in the desert I knew it was still a long way off. At one point I couldn’t bear the pain in my feet. I just knew my shoes were full of sand. I stopped to empty my shoes and found not a single speck. My feet were simply swollen from the heat. To quote Leanne, this was becoming a “death march.” We began to take longer and longer breaks, trudging from one bit of shade to the next. Finally we were at the pass. After summiting the pass (believe me, on the way back it felt like a summit) we were back in the grace of the shady hollow we had entered by. Leanne said it first. “If you’re wondering if I would do it again, the answer is ‘yes’,” she generously offered. I wasn’t planning on asking her until we were inside the air-conditioned car headed towards pizza and beer. “Yay!” I exclaimed. Company does love Misery!

And now for some images from my first trip through Fat Man’s Misery… Good times!

What was I thinking?

Brett shows some style.

Ron, the human anchor.

Beach party!

Brett's special trick.

Superfluous raps are fun!

I just love this one of me and my husband.

Lori B. in the fetile position.

Brett's awesome buffet of salmon crackers at the end of rap #unnecessary.

Again, what was I thinking?

Erika, go towards the light...

Eeks! The creature from the green lagoon.

Creature attacks Lori C.!!!

I just finished my painting, waterhole. This artwork was inspired by a trip through Lower Waterholes Canyon near Page, Arizona. It was mid-March of this year that we went there, only a few weeks before my wedding. I went with my husband and two friends, Luke and Paul. It was a beautiful canyon, but one that could easily turn treacherous.

waterhole

The skies here reflect that ominous feeling. I’m happy to report that the gods were smiling on us that day, and we emerged unscathed. It could have ended very poorly for us.

Waterholes Canyon empties into the Colorado River. There is no where to go from that sandy bank unless you want to try to swim the river, which is highly unrecommended. We had arranged for a boat to pick us up there around 4pm. When 4pm came and went we were able to contact our service briefly, from the top of this cliff. There was no guarantee that they would be able to wait long for us. Bad weather was moving in and it becomes dangerous to navigate the boat along the river safely at night. This could have meant an unexpected overnight stay on that very sandy shore. In Glen Canyon, the winds would have been rather biting, and the following day it actually snowed. So we could have been hypothermic in a matter of hours. We arrived at the river about three hours late. I remain eternally grateful to a river guide named Brad for keeping our fun adventure from becoming a disastrous epic.

This is me rappelling through the chimney.

My painting is from the reference point of the bottom of a 450 (+/-) foot drop-off. This involved two rappels, one of which we acheived with a 400 foot rope dropping us 357 feet. As I looked up to where I had come from, my knees still shaking from the long descent, I felt like a tiny fish in a sandstone fishbowl. Cathedral-like walls surrounded me in an amphitheater configuration as I studied a gaping slot dead-ahead of me. Only a few moments ago I had slid my entire body through a chimney to this sheer wall. Now that chimney appeared more like a hairline crack in a giant teacup. Feeling small and insignificant, I now realized I was standing in the mother of all waterholes, and to my benefit, it was dry as a bone. The skies above were turning stormy. My imagination began to go wild and I imagined that in the near distance it was raining, and that a flash flood was imminent. The sand under my feet was soft and fine, having been pummeled relentlessly from floods of the past. What a sight that would be to see this waterhole filling itself!

The camera could not capture the vastness of this place. It was an amazing canyon. Earlier there had been places so tight you felt you might get stuck there. Then there were parts where it just opened up and and was enormous!

Looking down from the 357 foot rappel.

Once you lower past the chimney it opens up and is a sheer wall below you. This is a view of the sandy bottom as the cameraman is rappelling down. I did not take this photo. It’s just hard to describe the scale of this place. Pretty awesome!

The next photo shows Ron rappelling. You can see how sheer the wall is. The black stains reveal that water will flow down this way at times. I would love to see what this looks like. I wonder if it becomes a gushing waterfall. When a canyon flashes there is often a lot of debris that gets carried with the water. The portion of the canyon above this point was pretty clear of logs and sticks. I was taking note of this fact when we were considering spending the night there. It’s always good to take inventory of your resources for staying warm.

My husband, Ron.

We were also very fortunate that we had remained dry. It was getting pretty cold. In fact, it had been cold all day. The canyon was unusually dry. When we approached the only pothole where we knew we would get wet, a group of young guys showed up and built a zip line. We all sailed across without getting a single toe wet. Except for the one sacrificial lamb who had to set the zip line up on the other side. Burrrrrr! Just seeing how miserable he was made me realize how close to an emergency situation we were.

The last photo shows the guys trying to pull the rope. They devised a pulley system to try to get that rope to break loose, but it just wouldn’t budge. Luckily Paul had freed another abandoned rope along the way that we ended up using for the remaining rappels. Another fortunate circumstance.

As we arrived to the river, we were greeted by our patient boat captain, Brad. He had been waiting for three hours. He was strumming his guitar and to me looked like a guardian angel perched up on the bow of the boat! By that time we were all just giddy. If you want to see more photos of this adventure they are posted on Luke’s website. He has a much more professional account of the whole thing.

Trying to retreive the rope.

Day one:
Saturday, June 23, 2007

Our approach was a doozie! Temperatures were in the 100s, and that’s hot for Zion. This is where we Las Vegans go to escape our blistering summer heat, and this weekend we failed. Starting out at the Visitor Center, we carefully double checked our bags for redundant items. Should we bring two jetboil stoves or one. Better not to risk it, what if one gets damaged. The last thing on our minds was the thoughts of the freezing cold nights to come, but you have to go into it prepared for anything.

As I believe I had mentioned in my last blog of Mystery Canyon, there are canyons in Zion National Park so long and challenging that you have to plan to take two days to get through them. Heaps Canyon is one of these. We were planning to spend the night at the crossroads, a most-likely dry patch between sets of wet narrow slot canyon sections. This makes it a popular place to set up camp. Since Zion is it’s own weather system, you never know when rain might strike and send flash floods roaring through the slot canyons. And if this happens, you want to be as high and dry as you can get. Our forecast for that weekend was nothing but sunshine!

We caught the shuttle to the Angel’s landing trailhead, a popular one for day hikers. As we began our ascent, the pleasant morning temperatures began to rise and it would be nothing but uphill for hours to come. We passed many day hikers, some families and groups. When you are carrying a thirty to forty pound pack plus a rope bag or two, you look pretty conspicuous. We were asked lots of questions along the way. Usually leaving people bewildered either with admiration or concern for our sanity. Perhaps from a strange few, a tinge of envy.

Now we’ve gotten the attention of the park rangers. They are verifying our permits and we are able to negotiate our camp plan based on the unexpected heat wave. It’s nice to know they care. Unfortunately, a very experienced canyoneer lost his life in this canyon a week earlier. This has shaken us all to some extent, so our objective is to execute the final rappel sequence in the daylight.

Did I mention how hot it was?

Finally we have reached the West Rim and it’s natural spring. We are relieved to find it is in fact running and not dry. This would have put a big crimp in our plans, since we were almost out of water at this point with still a good stretch before reaching the next water source. Just in case you are wondering, all water was filtered, and tasted delicious!

This is our first peek at Heaps Canyon from over the West Rim. The sight of it is exciting and at the same time a bit menacing. I’m looking down into it from here wondering what it will be like. It’s unchartered territory to me, and I get the sensation that my life will never be the same if I survive it.

We have lost a lot of time in our ascent because of the heat and all the extra weight we have on our backs. Extra water is one of the worst. But we are dropping in, anyway. We hope to camp before the first wet section. There’s no way we’ll make it to the crossroads at this point before dark. The first two rappels have a lot of loose rock around, so you have to be extra careful not to send unexpected shrapnel down to your companions below.

The second rappel. From here on out I begin to lose track of rappels. There are officially 20 rappels in Heaps Canyon, the last of which is close to 300 feet dropping you to the base of the Emerald Pools. A most dramatic ending to a challenging adventure. Between now and then, I am certain there more than 20 rappels, unofficially, of course.

Cool mushroom formations just before the wash. It was about here that I heard a mountain lion’s scream, just as we were enjoying our last moments of daylight.

Our camp that night. The dropping temperatures were welcome. Though, by the wee-hours it would become uncomfortably cold. We used emergency blankets and slept on top of inflated pool rafts. Economical and efficient.

Day two:
Sunday, June 24, 2007

Now the fun begins. Into the narrows. Time to get wet! I am wearing a 7mm wetsuit. I am happy with this, even though I feel like the michelin man, and can barely hold my arms down to my sides. My mobility is somewhat limited, but I don’t feel a thing when I scrape myself over rocks.

Sometimes you feel like you are in miniature. What appears at a distance as a crack, is in reality a large gaping space. Sometimes you can pass through a long straight section while still attached to your rope.

This is a good shot of baggage management. By the end of this day we will feel as though we have been through some kind of extreme baggage handler’s boot camp. You’ve shoved, pushed, pulled, dropped, slid, kicked, and (as this photo shows) zip lined your bag and the bags of your companions to the point of exhaustion.

Some sections get really deep and dark and spooky. Your feet fumble for footing in the darkness and the water is inky black. Like sliding down into the belly of a beast, you feel a great sense of insignificance.

Some pools (known as potholes) are quite large. We brought toys. At times you really feel like a kid at the jungle-gym. Or like you’re at some kind of crazy water park. We discovered all sorts of ways to crawl, leap, and contort our bodies in order to overcome each obstacle. Each pothole brings a new challenge and it is a constant exercise in creative problem solving. Literally, “climbing” out of the box.

You never know what you’ll encounter past the current obstacle. You try to scout out ahead as far as you can, but in the end, down is usually the best option. Just keep moving!

Making friends with the locals. I think he liked me.

Acrobatics, and the tunnel of love ride!

Hard work, but it is fun, though, really it is!

Finally, we’re at the crossroads. Here is where we realize that we’re going to be a day late. Three guys are going to miss work without explanation, and one wife is going to be worried sick. Decision is… keep on moving. Now we’re hoping we’ll find a safe place to camp.

More dark and wet narrows.

The putting green.

We found a camp site. It was super cold that night. The rafts were pretty beat up and wouldn’t hold air for long. We had to make a fire to stay warm. Having not planed on the extra day, we pulled together our remaining food supplies and created a delicious brew of nuts and dried fruit. For breakfast, a delicious and filling pretzel porridge! Nothing ever tasted so good.

Day 3:
Monday, June 25, 2007

Sleep deprived, we set out shortly after sunrise. When you’re in a canyon, it’s hard to tell when the sunrise is. In fact, the sun was shining somewhere nearby before we ever saw a glimpse of it filtering into the canyon. Some more dark and wet narrows ahead.

Finally the light of Zion canyon!

A shot looking back into a set of potholes. This is the view that inspired my painting. I remember distinctly the thoughts racing through my mind when we encountered this particular section. On the verge of utter exhaustion at this point, the light is streaming in from the canyon opening up in the far distance, and I squinted like a small furry animal emerging from her burrow. Appearing before me a seemingly endless barrage of potholes, one spilling into the next, the height of their walls undeterminable from this perspective. All in one moment my heart sank from the thought of the work ahead of me, and at the same time was lifted. This was a vision of unmatched beauty. Like entering a massive cathedral, this architecture of nature was nothing short of breathtaking.

Feeling pretty exhausted by now. This is a great shot revealing the depth of this canyon. You can see Brett on rappel behind me.

Finally, we can take off our wetsuits. It was starting to heat up again. Here we had to climb up a short wall to our last few exciting rappels.

A peak into Zion Canyon. Almost there!

But first a short snooze. We’ve got to be at our best for the last rappel sequence. It’s a doozie!

The first part is not so bad…

Now the second part…

As you reach the final rappel, you get to stand on a thin little ledge known as the bird perch.

Those are my feet.

This is the anchor, in case you are curious. I had a good long look at it myself. From the bird perch, you drop down 280 feet to the banks of the Emerald Pools.

As we touched terra firma once again there was a round of applause from stunned tourists. This is what the tourists see looking up. I remember thinking about a lot of things while coming down. There’s a bit of time for pondering such things as… wow, I can see a lot from here, I wonder what that burning smell is, if my mom could only see me now.

A most satisfying softserve Ice cream from Zion Lodge.

mystery

What could be more mysterious than the ways of this woman? Perhaps her nature is unveiled by the line of a curve or the color of skin that has been denied the rays of the sun. She swoons and sways before me, luring me ever deeper into her folds. One more step, one more drop, one more squeeze, the closer I get, the further I am from where we started. She leaves me small gifts along the way. I must resist the urge to linger on each miracle, and drive onward with haste. She opens and closes, allowing the heavens to pour in from above. Then suddenly, as if by surprise, she opens one last time, into another world, her secrets emptied in a waterfall to the narrows below. It will always remain her secret and this makes me smile as I lower myself over her mossy lips.

The finished product is this 24×24″ oil on canvas. In the end I struggled with the colors, and decided on this milky palette. It gives the stylized form of the ledge the soft, sexy, feminine feeling I wanted the image to evoke.

Above are earlier studies of color. In the computer I was able to play with the colors before going to the canvas.

I softened the linework as well before going to canvas. The reference sketch from my sketchbook shows the final composition in a square format.

Another completed natural abstraction!

Sometimes an image develops right away, other times it takes several months to evolve. My trip through Mystery Canyon was four months ago. Granted, it did not take four months of labor to produce this one painting, but sometimes it is the dormant periods of the process which are so necessary. Some of my pieces need to stew. I need to put them out of sight temporarily and then revisit them fresh again. Sometimes, I’m never quite satisfied with the final result, until months after I’ve declared the painting finished. This time allows the image to take on it’s own power, away from all the original inspirations and manipulations, and especially my own criticism. All this struggle is ultimately transparent to the viewer, who will normally only see the final product. This blog is a way for me to show how an image goes from eye-witness account to paint on a canvas. As an artist, I believe it helps me understand my own intentions and goals. It keeps me focused and better in touch with my work. Thanks for reading!

Look for my next series of blogs based on Heaps Canyon, new artwork in progress…

Saturday, April 28th, 2007

A beautiful sunny and hot day at Zion National Park. Our destination today is Mystery Canyon. Hiking in from Weeping Rock, a convenient shuttle stop, we approached Mystery via Observation Point. Obviously a nice day trek in itself, we only lingered a few minutes to take in this immense view of Zion Canyon. We have three miles of canyon fun to get on with. Here’s the view from Observation Point, well worth it!

This is a popular tourist trail, very well groomed and highly recommended as the views from the top are stunning! Shortly before you reach the Observation Point lookout, there is a turnoff to another trail. This is the one that leads in the direction of Mystery Canyon. When you leave the tourist route and head into the backcountry, believe me, you notice the difference. When we arrive at our first woodsy rappel, the excitement of the day begins. The commitment begins here. The defining nature of canyoneering is evident the moment you make that first descent and pull the rope from behind you. You’re in it, and the only logical way out of it, is to go forward. It’s a series of rappels that lead you down and down into the depths of these side canyons, until you transport yourself out of them into relative safety again. It’s a dangerous adventure, in that if you don’t have your wits about you, a fun day of hanging off ropes could go bad very quickly. I won’t belabor the dangers of canyoneering, as most of them are self-evident. This site is not a guide, but an editorial by an artist about her inspirations. I’ve included a few helpful links at the end of this post if you want to know more about canyoneering.

I am always amazed by the shapes water can create in stone. A masterful sculptor, it comes up with forms of unimaginable beauty. This canyon obviously sees quite a bit of water. You can tell by the greenish hues on the rock surfaces. Black stains also show clues of water having made its way in large amounts on a regular basis. On this day, after a relatively dry winter, the canyon is pretty dry.

Continuing into the slot the world around you is suddenly transformed and you are amazed by the spectacle. This is the reason we are here. It’s a secret world not everyone gets the priviledge of being a witness to. For me, as an abstract artist, I have found my candy store. My eyes and mind are in a constant whorl, and I’m seeing a new subject of study every few steps.

The way the light plays in these canyons, it has a truly mysterious nature. Sometimes it shows the canyon for its true depth, and other times the light creates a flattening effect that makes you realize how light and shadow can play tricks on your eyes. What looks like a turn is really a drop, and a wall full of ripples may actually be wide and flat. Photography is a tricky undertaking in such a place as the camera interprets what it can, using the light it is given. It’s always a mystery how your photos will develop, or look once up on the computer screen.

Unfortunately, these are long days of trekking and you have to keep on your way. Lingering too long to pull out a sketch book could turn into a safety issue. You generally want to get out of the canyons before you lose the light of day, unless you are prepared for a cold desert night. There are canyons here in Zion that require an overnight stay and the appropriate permits I might add. I haven’t attempted this, not yet, anyway.

Here you can see how a photo can distort the scale of things down here in the slot canyons. It’s just this sort of abstraction that I especially find fascinating. I have to be careful I don’t wander too far into my thoughts while I’m in it, I might accidentally step off a ledge!

Here’s a perfect example of a photographic image I might study for a painting. Look for follow-up posts for more on this.

Here the canyon seem to open up to reveal all sorts of sky and vistas. But don’t let it fool you, there’s still only one real way out. A lot of canyoneers are also proficient rock climbers. But generally you wouldn’t lug all that protection around with you on a canyoneering trip.

Again, another astonishing look at how water can transform a rock surface. The second image is looking directly overhead. Feel like a fish in a barrel? Yeah, you try not to think about that too much. One of the most frightening things that could potentially occur would be a flash flood. The deserts are notorious for flash flooding, and it’s extremely dangerous. In fact your chances of surviving it would not be good. There are warnings, though, so you never overlook the weather reports. I watched a bunch of videos on uTube showing flash floods and close calls in canyons. Those images are always present in the corners of my mind.

Here we encountered a large terrace with a safety line attached. This takes you out to another long rappel. I don’t have photos of it, but it was at the bottom of this one that our rope got stuck. We had all rappelled down safely, but when the rope was pulled from behind us, it fell back into a crack and got caught around a rock. Accidental anchors can be some of the strongest! Luckily, my group leader was prepared with patience and ascendors, and the problem was resolved. Another reason to be wary of time, and save your extra lingering time for useful projects like self-rescue.

The walls here at this section are high and dry!

At this last rappel you get to really “wow” the tourists marching through the Narrows. You get to launch yourself off this cool cliff and glide through a beautiful (on this day) trickling waterfall. Try not to do anything too embarrassing, you now have to walk out with your former spectators and catch a shuttle back to home base. This waterfall can make a greenish slippery surface for placing your toes on. Balance carefully and try to preserve the natural beauty as well as your own dignity!

Look for follow up postings showing drawings and artwork generated by the memory of this adventure.
Learn more about canyoneering in Zion National Park from these websites:

http://www.canyoneeringusa.com/utah/zion/

http://www.zionnational-park.com/zion-national-park-canyoneering.htm

Just getting started, here. Soon to come are images of my artwork, mostly 2-D abstract images based on natural forms. Feeling very inspired lately as I’ve been exploring canyons with Zion National Park in Utah. This place is amazing. Ever been inside a slot canyon? Ever experienced fear of commitment? Check back in a week, and there will be something to look at, I promise!