The Fear Factor Wilderness Triathlon

On Saturday morning, Kristin and I set off on our most adventurous hike yet- White Canyon in Utah. Specifically, the section with the Black Hole. We knew this hike was going to be hardcore and prepared for it as thoroughly as possible. We even rented wetsuits and life jackets because we heard hypothermia is a concern. We were ready to be the Charlie’s Angels of canyoneering.

When we arrived in the parking area, we saw rain clouds in the distance. Aware of the danger of flash floods, we delayed our departure for a bit. As we descended into the canyon, we remained alert and cautious. We had carefully researched flash floods, knowing this would be the biggest danger. Luckily, the water level and flow stayed consistent, so we knew we’d be okay.

The water on this hike was not pretty; the pools were muddy and brown. I don’t think I’ve ever been so muddy in my life. There were long stretches where we hiked through ankle-deep mud. But once you accept the fact that you’re just going to be dirty, it was no big deal.

(This is right after I fell in the water and got wet for the first time.)

Things were fine until we hit the log jam.

This was the point of no return. There was a drop-off into the water that would be impossible to climb back out of. We thought this was the infamous Black Hole, but we were mistaken. This was actually a log jam created by a flash flood several years ago. Regardless, we knew that once we jumped, we couldn’t go back. The guides say that this hike is not only physically demanding, but also psychologically challenging. This is why. But, being the adrenaline junkees that we are, we were excited. We changed into our wetsuits and made this video, then jumped in.



It was not what we were expecting. This is when the hike turned into an episode of Fear Factor. The log jam had left quite a bit of debris floating in the water- logs, plants, etc. All of this debris pulled you down- thank God for the life jackets. On top of that, there were bugs crawling all over the logs and plants. So imagine swimming through all this nastiness, and the bugs and stuff are right in your face. At one point, there was an infestation of flies like something from a horror movie. I don’t know how I stayed calm through this; I just tried to pretend I wasn’t seeing the bugs. The only part that was truly scary was getting out. I lack upper body strength, and it was extremely difficult to pull yourself out of there with all of that stuff weighing you down. Plus you’re wearing a bulky life jacket and a backpack. Kristin had to help pull me out. Now, she will forever be the friend who saved my life. I’m so glad she does those Insanity workouts.

We forged ahead and came to another dryfall. This one had shallow water at the bottom, so jumping in was not an option. Luckily, someone had left a rope there to help us climb down into it.

Finally, we reached the actually Black Hole. It really wasn’t that scary! Yes, it takes some nerve to jump into a black pit. And the walls are really narrow (like, only as wide as your body), and there’s boulders lodged above you, creating kind of a claustrophobic feeling. It’s about 500 feet of swimming, but you can’t see the end because there’s a 90 degree turn at one point. But this water was free of debris, and we had our wetsuits and life jackets, so we were comfortable. And, after all, this is what we came for!

After the Black Hole, it was supposed to be a mile and a half to the exit. We thought this would go by quickly, but it didn’t. Route-finding continued to be an issue. Not a problem, just something to deal with. We had to stop frequently to figure out our way around obstacles. We’re pretty good problem-solvers, but this takes time. Finally, we saw some cairns that looked like they were leading up and out of the canyon. We were hesitant, because this exit was not on the map. However, I think we were both feeling a little desperate. We knew it was getting late, and we were kind of tired of being in the canyon. The thought of going back in the water and mud was slightly overwhelming, so we decided to explore this exit option. Unfortunately, it didn’t work out.

(Kristin consults the guide. We are so ready to be done at this point.)

(We thought these looked like the Cliffs of Insanity in The Princess Bride.)

(This is one of the pools we had to jump back into when we were just so over swimming.)


We plunged back into the water and mud, trying to stay calm. Soon we came to the side canyon that was listed on the map as an alternate exit. One of the guides said this required rock climbing, but we pursued it anyway. We had to turn back when we encountered a 20 foot high boulder that needed to be climbed. At this point, it was dark enough that we had to put on our headlamps.

We didn’t know what time it was (my iPhone didn’t survive the water), but we knew it was late. And we had told Kristin’s mom that we would check in with her by 7:00. So adding to our concern about getting out of the canyon was the knowledge that our families were probably getting worried. But it was also really comforting to know that, if we couldn’t get out, someone knew where to find us.

Once back in the main canyon, we were able to spot the chimney rock that was supposed to mark the easy exit. However, it was way too dark to try to navigate our way out and find cairns. At that point, we realized we’d just have to spend the night in the canyon.

Kristin said she fully expected me to freak out at this point. Honestly, I expected myself to freak out. I don’t do camping. But I was perfectly calm. The only thing on my mind was the fact that our families were worried, but, like Kristin said, we had to just put that out of our minds because there was nothing we could do about it. I was completely confident that we’d easily find our way out in the morning, and in the meantime, our location was ideal. It was a wide, flat area, and there were lots of dead branches nearby, making it easy to build a fire. The moon was almost full, giving us plenty of light. Since we were in a canyon, there were no wild animals to worry about. The night was so warm, we would have been okay even without the Survivorman blanket. We had everything we needed. We laid on top of our wetsuits, propped up against a rock, and I fell asleep thinking of Jesus’s words in Matthew: “Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they?” God totally provided for us that night.

The next morning we woke up ready to get out of that canyon. We were shaky and sore and slightly dehydrated, but determined. We made this video before we left. It’s funny; you can see how exhausted we were compared to the previous day’s video.



In the daylight, we were easily able to spot the cairns indicating the exit. It was at this point, however, that we realized we were in over our heads. This was supposed to be a Class 2B canyon, meaning there’s scrambling but no technical stuff required. But there were parts of this climb that were nearly impossible to do without ropes. There were three places where Kristin had to scramble up a nearly vertical ledge (she has longer legs and once again, that super upper body strength). I would throw her the rope, and we’d rope up the packs. Then she would tie the rope around her waist, sit down and brace herself, and I would climb the rope. (Yesterday I learned this is called a meat anchor.) The first time we had to do this, I was ready to give up and just sit and wait for rescue. We were standing on top of an enormous boulder, and we had to climb up to a ledge that was maybe 6 feet above us. This doesn’t sound like a big deal, but there was a crevice in between the boulder and ledge, so if you fell, you’d be seriously injured. And the only way up was a precarious-looking log, which I was sure would fall when I put my weight on it. It looked like this:

 But Kristin refused to just leave me there, and after using the rope for that first time, we got more comfortable with it and it was no big deal, just part of the process.

Finally, we emerged from the canyon and saw the road in the distance. There was much rejoicing in that moment. We agreed that we needed to hitchhike rather than walk the 2 miles back to the car. A few minutes later, a pickup truck approached, and we stuck out our thumbs. We were pleasantly surprised when the truck immediately pulled over. I attributed it to all those nice Mormons in Utah, but it was actually the guy sent from the sheriff’s department to do the rescue. It was perfect timing; we felt a huge sense of accomplishment that we’d gotten ourselves out of the canyon, but we were so glad we didn’t have to walk those last two miles back to the car. And he had water!!!

He was super nice and not at all annoyed with us, like I was afraid he would be. It sounds like he does rescues from this canyon pretty frequently. He told us that just a few days before, he’d rescued some scouts from the Black Hole. Later on, Kristin and I realized the implications of this statement. As Kristin so eloquently worded it- we out-badassed the scouts! And they must have had experienced, knowledgeable leaders with them. We are pretty proud of this.

The worst part of all this was the worry we caused our families. Kristin’s parents arrived not long after we were found; they’d driven all the way up from Pinetop. Kristin’s dad was the most calm; he figured we’d just run out of daylight, but was concerned that one of us had been hurt and that’s why we hadn’t made it out. Her mom was also afraid we were hurt. My parents jumped to the conclusion we were dead. I think it was especially hard for my parents because they don’t see me as being at all capable in the wilderness.

When the guy from the sheriff’s department picked us up, it was 9:15 a.m. We’d be in the canyon about 24 hours. We were dirty and disgusting and banged up and dehydrated, but we did it. We are calling it the Fear Factor Wilderness Triathlon because it involved hiking, climbing, and swimming and had that psychological element as well. And after having a few days to recover, we can’t wait for our next adventure.