It was a lazy morning, but Bernie and I finally decided to go check out Death Canyon- short, easy, and hopefully mostly dry. I had so much fun with Bernie! We strolled up to the bottom of the slot and checked out the pool we'd rappel into at the bottom of the canyon. It looked so small and shallow... No big deal.
So we hiked up and around and dropped into the canyon. We were chatting so much we almost didn't notice we were in a slot! Bernie and I have such great conversation, and I love that he's not in any hurry and is happy to go my pace. Soon we came to a downclimb that looked a little intimidating from the top, but ended up not being a big deal. (Can I just pause for a moment and express my newfound love of downclimbing? I still hate sliding; I prefer to wedge myself in a crack and let friction help me out. But it's so much fun! I can't get enough!)
Anyway, I downclimbed like a boss, and we found ourselves at the top of the rappel. We took off our socks and boots (interesting experience, doing a canyon in snowboots!) and Bernie threw them across to the other side of the pool. I went down first and discovered right away that I had underestimated how cold this would be. My feet were freezing as they walked down the cold, wet, slimy rock. And then, just before I got to the bottom, I ran out of rope. I was on my tiptoes, balanced on a rock in the frigid pool, fumbling to untie the figure 8 knot so I could drop the rest of the way, shaking my fist at Bernie. The few steps I had to take across the pool brought me through knee deep water- that clear spring water makes it hard to judge depth! Warm boots have never felt so wonderful.
I dropped Bernie off at camp to hang out with his friend and went to get a different hotel room for the night. The room was luxurious. The heat felt heavenly, and the Vikings/Packers game was on, which would determine if the Bears made the playoffs. I wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. As I sat eating dinner and watching football, there was a knock at the door. Bernie's friend had dropped him off on her way into town, and Bernie was hoping to take advantage of my shower. We talked and talked and time flew by. I started to feel guilty and knew we had to go back and hang out at camp soon, but that became an impossibility when Bernie came in from smoking and said I had a flat tire. Oh darn, guess we can't go hang out at the camp fire tonight. We continued to gab and had such a great evening together, although the whole time I was worrying that Kristin would think I was off somewhere hooking up with a guy (because I totally wasn't!).
The spring at the bottom of Death Canyon:
So we hiked up and around and dropped into the canyon. We were chatting so much we almost didn't notice we were in a slot! Bernie and I have such great conversation, and I love that he's not in any hurry and is happy to go my pace. Soon we came to a downclimb that looked a little intimidating from the top, but ended up not being a big deal. (Can I just pause for a moment and express my newfound love of downclimbing? I still hate sliding; I prefer to wedge myself in a crack and let friction help me out. But it's so much fun! I can't get enough!)
Anyway, I downclimbed like a boss, and we found ourselves at the top of the rappel. We took off our socks and boots (interesting experience, doing a canyon in snowboots!) and Bernie threw them across to the other side of the pool. I went down first and discovered right away that I had underestimated how cold this would be. My feet were freezing as they walked down the cold, wet, slimy rock. And then, just before I got to the bottom, I ran out of rope. I was on my tiptoes, balanced on a rock in the frigid pool, fumbling to untie the figure 8 knot so I could drop the rest of the way, shaking my fist at Bernie. The few steps I had to take across the pool brought me through knee deep water- that clear spring water makes it hard to judge depth! Warm boots have never felt so wonderful.
I dropped Bernie off at camp to hang out with his friend and went to get a different hotel room for the night. The room was luxurious. The heat felt heavenly, and the Vikings/Packers game was on, which would determine if the Bears made the playoffs. I wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. As I sat eating dinner and watching football, there was a knock at the door. Bernie's friend had dropped him off on her way into town, and Bernie was hoping to take advantage of my shower. We talked and talked and time flew by. I started to feel guilty and knew we had to go back and hang out at camp soon, but that became an impossibility when Bernie came in from smoking and said I had a flat tire. Oh darn, guess we can't go hang out at the camp fire tonight. We continued to gab and had such a great evening together, although the whole time I was worrying that Kristin would think I was off somewhere hooking up with a guy (because I totally wasn't!).
The spring at the bottom of Death Canyon:
Comments