Coyote Gulch Lament

No longer the barefoot-desert-oasis-of-wonder. Too many violent flashfloods have sculpted this little gem into a treacherous-path-of-destruction. This week's trip to Coyote Gulch...was it fun? I wouldn't classify it as fun, but definately challenging and empowering. Glad I went, and glad I lived to tell. Learned about how, even post-pelvis crush, I can haul a 40 pound pack up a 2.5 mile 45 degree mountain of sand and only be a little stiff in my calves the next day. Learned that I can scramble around on steep, treacherous slickrock and narrowly escape tumbling to my premature death on the giant, sharp boulders 40 feet below...while carrying my 40 pound pack. Learned I can indefinately postpone the panic attack said slickrock scramble can inspire. Learned what my true limits are, and that they are much loftier than I thought. Learned what it sounds like to be enjoying the quietude of a small slot canyon, only to have that silence ended by the screaming of 2 fighter jets careening through the narrow canyon. Just like the movies. Learned the feeling of anxiety concerning sleeping in a large rock alcove, wondering if "geological time" will happen when I close my eyes and I will be buried in a tumble of sandstone boulders. Learned how to humble myself and hike as slow as I need to. I remembered how nice it is to sleep in the open, warm night air and watch the milky way appear. I learned that, definately, happiness is shared.

Below: JT, pointing the way to the trailhead. We had already driven 40 miles on dirt road...

Below: Poor fools...hiking "in" to Coyote Gulch ;)
Below: Our campsite, my one-man tent.

Below: Backpacker Bob facing the "slickrock of insanity".

Looking down on "crack-in-the-wall", yes, we squeezed through that.

Below: Flashflood shrapnel, a 30 foot drop on the other side of these boulders that wasn't there "before".

Below: yum. it was mud like this everywhere.

Reflection of Stevens Arch, on water over quicksand...

Morning light...