Day
9
We get to start
today with a shower as the whole group is floating around the corner to Shinumo
Falls. Soap isn’t allowed in the side
streams feeding the Colorado but I think I’d better take every opportunity for
a clear water rinse.
Oh its cold!
We pass an
uneventful morning on the river. Mostly
it is peaceful and looks like this:
or
this 
although sometimes
it looks like this:
People are already
talking about
While looking at
the map, I notice a rapid called Upset between here and Lava. Wonder how that got its name!
Next stop is Elves Chasm. My guidebook has a stern warning about
climbing above the waterfall in Elves Chasm – it’s the #1 site for search and
rescue in the canyon. I read the
passage aloud to the group during lunch.
Everyone listens politely, but, by the time I scramble up to the chasm,
I see I could have saved my breath.
I get myself into
position to make the standard
jump over the waterfall and get another chicken attack. I have visions of my sandal slipping on the
moss and turning my launch into a head-banging slide. Coaxing shouts of “You’ll be fine!” don’t
help at all. I already know what that
means!
The thing is, the
down climb is worse than the jump and I eventually hurl myself into the pool
below without incident.
Meanwhile, the
climbers are puzzling over the route down.
Here’s Link jumping in from the high dive.
Will knows of some
hidden inscriptions and we climb down and around to take a look. Of course no one would dare add a name now –
it would be defacing the rock with graffiti.
But the statue of limitations has run out on scrawls from 1859 and
1929. It’s neat to see the record of far
earlier travelers.
Our third side
trip is Blacktail
Those who climb
the spillover at the end are rewarded with a huge natural amphitheater. I’m told a string quartet hauled their
instruments in to make a fine recording with the natural acoustics. Here’s an amphitheater, although not
Blacktail.
Blacktail Canyon
is so narrow and so obviously prone to flashflood that I find myself a little
claustrophobic. With clear skies in all
directions, though, I’m free to take my time examining the polished gravel on
the canyon floor and the sculpted walls.
The jumble of large rocks at the mouth of the canyon is a reminder that
its not just water that scrubs the path of a flashflood – the rainfall gathers
quickly enough to carry boulders, trees and anything else that’s loose down
from the watershed to the river.
We camp at mile
122, a wide spot in the canyon. As I
lay in my tent waiting for the moon to set behind the canyon wall, I count my
lucky stars, literally. I’m pretty sure
I’m alive only because the river let me live.
But it did let me live and for that I’m grateful. Also happy to realize that the muscle
soreness is easing. I may be finally
adapting to multiple workouts per day.
Happy thoughts indeed.