After the mad scramble, to Cap Reef and the lighting prep for Thanksgiving dinner, a fire was lit and the kiddies stayed up, many anyway, past midnight. Alicia is on record as being amazed by the 11:30 AM start, that we have planned. The next day, Day 7, was to be that day. A descent of the mysterious Cassidy Canyon. The day after would be the long Pandora’s Box. A short day and early finish makes too much sense.
We had entered our Cap Reef campsite after dark, so when the first light of the new day, was followed by a bright sun, it revealed a pinion/juniper forest, with lovely views of Cainesville buttes, looking into sunlight and the white Navajo of the Waterpocket Fold, behind us, alit in bright red, then orange. A thin layer of dew reflected and one could see their breath. Some made coffee, tea or soup. Others scrounged Thanksgiving leftovers. Others made conventional breakfasts and I spied some eating pumpkin and apple pie. No rush. Take your time. Observe the sun rise and finally bring forth some real warmth. I was practicing this “relax and soak it in” type thing I hear people like to do. Must have done OK, because 4 folks got up and left before they had to. Or was that just two couples looking to get away from us? Anyway, the 11:30 meeting was set, up by the Cassidy Arch trailhead.
No one from our group had done the canyon. Few had heard of it. Malia had descended it, but she was forced to leave us, this morning, as work called. Not before she dispensed the valuable beta. We drove to the park and then the short dirt road into Grand Wash and pulled up short of the trailhead, waiting in the sun, rather than the cold, cold shade. I was reminded again, after many months, that in the cold months, the temperature differences with and without the sun are startling. We arrive 6 minutes early. The arch is in view. Hank spies other dryfalls and potential slots. Alicia startles us all. She is 2 minutes early! And the things people were saying about her time orientation!! Ryan and Cri still missing? Ryan is NEVER late. Tick, tick and we hear the sound of accelerated RPM’s. Is that ever a sign! Speed Racer is coming and under the checkered flag with 10 seconds left on the clock. Packs grabbed, keys cached and we are off.
The hike up to the arch is about 1.5 miles and gains 950 feet. It is mostly in the sun and layers are stripped off, at the owners discretion. Finally we are at the arch and the rap in station. I spy a tree so close to the edge as to be perfect for….Tom says no. I say but, but! Tom says no. And that is that. He doesn’t argue when I say “I think we go that way” so I don’t argue when he says non not there, here!. But, but…never mind. I will feel some gratification when the final folks descend down using my suggested station, but Tom is right. The other station is better for setting up the simo raps and helping our mixed group, with a much easier and less exposed transition onto rappel.
My wife Judy starts to edge over to the drop. I nudge her…”it’s warmer up here than it will be down there methinks.” She smiles and keeps by her man. I find a water bottle on top. No one claims it. Yippee! Later Cristina will claim it as Ryan’s. Sigh. I did get to carry it. If I had been smart enough to drink from it perhaps he wouldn’t have wanted it back? Booty found and lost. Then to my horror……Both of our children are on the same simo rap!! They don’t let the president and vice president fly on the same plane, but they let my kids do the same 130 foot, overhanging rap together? I turn away and think of other things. Then it is Judy and my turn. I think of my pal Melon, in Bend, Oregon. He and his wife have custody of the kids should fate deem it so. Wonder what he would think, watching this scene.
Many of us have ropes and they go forward. The canyon is drop after drop. After descending the second rap in Cassidy Canyon, I commented upon setting down, that all the women were down there and all the guys above.They smiled and said that they had noticed. They were all arranged in a circle and the fat was flying. To be polite, I went around the corner to set the next rap. Aaron arrived and I left it to him. Amy had sauntered along. Amy, at age 12, is a year or 2 short of being driven by some of these directives that seemed to be compelling, the other “more” mature young ladies, to gossip. I asked Amy what the gals had been discussing…..the hooking up, sometime in the future, of an eligible male, it turns out. I asked Amy what she thought of that….”She paused for about 5 seconds. Her forehead furrowed and she said….”It was very disturbing.” I held back my need to laugh, until I could go around the corner, back to the “Circle of Estrogen” where I shared Amy’s reply, to their spontaneous laughter. What fun!
The third drop was a three stage affair. The second drop through a natural bridge. I become the anchor for the third drop, speeding our progress. The sun rarely finds its way down to us and moving is preferred. The 4th rap is through a natural bridge too and is a special place. Now we encounter the works of man. A steel cable adorns a wall. Gringo steps of the large rectangular variety allow one to access a rotten, tilted, unsecured wooden bridge, across a gap. I go down and note that the bridge at my end is only touching about an inch and a half. Not a super long way down, but… I feel a huge and strong pull. I smell it and it is purely male. My lip twitches. I WANT to cross the bridge. Heart rate increases. I try and suppress the animal with rational analysis…as if. I decide to pass and start back. I turn and gaze again. Something is puuuuulling me back. But I resist. Back to man the rap station. I am pleased not to be a prisoner of my animal. But then Hank goes over. I tell him…”Pretty bad.” But his own animal is calling him. I watch. He tests. He hesitates. He goes and he is across. Now on the other side, I guessed that his animal was purring loudly, under the civilized man. And what is that pull I feel back to the bridge myself. Surely I am not being forced by my animal to revisit the scene…just because a Hunk, I mean Hank of a man has done it? The pull is hard, but I let it go and rap.
One more drop, then a low overhanging alcove and some rock hop. We are near the road and we stop, in the sun. We don’t want it to end. Finally we stroll to the road and more sun. Cars are retrieved, abut no one is in any rush. At this moment in time, there is no better place to go to. Thanx Malia. It was a treat. Ram
PS Malia has posted, in the photo section, under Cassidy Canyon. The 3rd picture give a good view of a bit less than half the canyon (to the 3rd rap or so), starting at the arch, which looks like an alcove in the picture.
bruce silliman
Too many people walking on it in a short period of time?
bruce from bryce
p.s. are you going to post a tr from Saturday?
>From: “Malia” msmnificent@yahoo.com
Reply-To: Yahoo Canyons Group
To: Yahoo Canyons Group
Subject: [from Canyons Group] Re: TR- Cassidy Canyon >Date: Tue, 05 Dec 2006 19:24:20 -0000
BTW the bridge is now tilted, quite a bit, up left, down right from
the photograghers viewpoint.
>Scary! I wonder what made the bridge shift???!!! >
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Malia
> BTW the bridge is now tilted, quite a bit, up left, down right from > the photograghers viewpoint.
Scary! I wonder what made the bridge shift???!!!
adkramoo
— In Yahoo Canyons Group, “Malia” wrote:
I added another picture to the Cassidy Canyon photo album… It’s of> me crossing the rickety bridge.
Don’t feel bad about not crossing the bridge. It wasn’t until my > third descent of the canyon (after watching my brave partner casually> stroll across the bridge all three times) that I worked up enough guts> to crawl over the gap. > -Malia
Oh, just great. First the picture makes it look casual, with no exposure and I tell this story about wrestling with my maleness and you GIRL go right across! Now I have to go back and…..no I don’t, I guess. 😉 BTW the bridge is now tilted, quite a bit, up left, down right from the photograghers viewpoint. Hunk, I mean Hank used the very far left edge of the bridge for one long, full step and one partially tree supported step, also on the left edge. What was really frieghtening was how little of the bridge was against the side you climb onto it from. I thought to try and lift it a little, to get it more centered, but had no one on the other side, which might make that adjustment a practical thing to do. You folks are craz…I mean my heroes
a rotten, tilted, unsecured wooden bridge, across a gap. I go
down and note that the bridge at my end is only touching about an inch
and a half. Not a super long way down, but… I feel a huge and strong
pull. I smell it and it is purely male. My lip twitches. I WANT to
cross the bridge. Heart rate increases. I try and suppress the animal
with rational analysis…as if. I decide to pass and start back. I
turn and gaze again. Something is puuuuulling me back. But I resist.
Back to man the rap station. I am pleased not to be a prisoner of my
animal. But then Hank goes over. I tell him…”Pretty bad.” But his
own animal is calling him. I watch. He tests. He hesitates. He goes
and he is across. Now on the other side, I guessed that his animal was
purring loudly, under the civilized man. And what is that pull I feel
back to the bridge myself. Surely I am not being forced by my animal
to revisit the scene…just because a Hunk, I mean Hank of a man has
done it? The pull is hard, but I let it go and rap.
At this moment in time, there is no better
place to go to. Thanx Malia. It was a treat.
Ram
PS Malia has posted, in the photo section, under Cassidy Canyon. The
3rd picture give a good view of a bit less than half the canyon (to
the 3rd rap or so), starting at the arch, which looks like an alcove
in the picture.
>
Malia
I added another picture to the Cassidy Canyon photo album… It’s of me crossing the rickety bridge.
Don’t feel bad about not crossing the bridge. It wasn’t until my third descent of the canyon (after watching my brave partner casually stroll across the bridge all three times) that I worked up enough guts to crawl over the gap.
-Malia
> a rotten, tilted, unsecured wooden bridge, across a gap. I go > down and note that the bridge at my end is only touching about an inch > and a half. Not a super long way down, but… I feel a huge and strong > pull. I smell it and it is purely male. My lip twitches. I WANT to > cross the bridge. Heart rate increases. I try and suppress the animal > with rational analysis…as if. I decide to pass and start back. I > turn and gaze again. Something is puuuuulling me back. But I resist. > Back to man the rap station. I am pleased not to be a prisoner of my > animal. But then Hank goes over. I tell him…”Pretty bad.” But his > own animal is calling him. I watch. He tests. He hesitates. He goes > and he is across. Now on the other side, I guessed that his animal was > purring loudly, under the civilized man. And what is that pull I feel > back to the bridge myself. Surely I am not being forced by my animal > to revisit the scene…just because a Hunk, I mean Hank of a man has > done it? The pull is hard, but I let it go and rap.
At this moment in time, there is no better > place to go to. Thanx Malia. It was a treat. > Ram
PS Malia has posted, in the photo section, under Cassidy Canyon. The > 3rd picture give a good view of a bit less than half the canyon (to > the 3rd rap or so), starting at the arch, which looks like an alcove > in the picture. >
bruce silliman
Hiked to Cassidy Arch last year with my grand daughter and wife. It was after my first canyons in Zion but I had no idea to check out the easier way down. Wow!!
bruce from bryce
>From: “adkramoo” adkramoo@aol.com
Reply-To: Yahoo Canyons Group
To: Yahoo Canyons Group
Subject: [from Canyons Group] TR- Cassidy Canyon >Date: Thu, 30 Nov 2006 14:51:44 -0000
After the mad scramble, to Cap Reef and the lighting prep for >Thanksgiving dinner, a fire was lit and the kiddies stayed up, many >anyway, past midnight. Alicia is on record as being amazed by the >11:30 AM start, that we have planned. The next day, Day 7, was to be >that day. A descent of the mysterious Cassidy Canyon. The day after >would be the long Pandora’s Box. A short day and early finish makes >too much sense.
We had entered our Cap Reef campsite after dark, so when the first >light of the new day, was followed by a bright sun, it revealed a >pinion/juniper forest, with lovely views of Cainesville buttes, >looking into sunlight and the white Navajo of the Waterpocket Fold, >behind us, alit in bright red, then orange. A thin layer of dew >reflected and one could see their breath. Some made coffee, tea or >soup. Others scrounged Thanksgiving leftovers. Others made >conventional breakfasts and I spied some eating pumpkin and apple pie. >No rush. Take your time. Observe the sun rise and finally bring forth >some real warmth. I was practicing this “relax and soak it in” type >thing I hear people like to do. Must have done OK, because 4 folks got >up and left before they had to. Or was that just two couples looking >to get away from us? Anyway, the 11:30 meeting was set, up by the >Cassidy Arch trailhead.
No one from our group had done the canyon. Few had heard of it. Malia >had descended it, but she was forced to leave us, this morning, as >work called. Not before she dispensed the valuable beta. We drove to >the park and then the short dirt road into Grand Wash and pulled up >short of the trailhead, waiting in the sun, rather than the cold, cold >shade. I was reminded again, after many months, that in the cold >months, the temperature differences with and without the sun are >startling. We arrive 6 minutes early. The arch is in view. Hank spies >other dryfalls and potential slots. Alicia startles us all. She is 2 >minutes early! And the things people were saying about her time >orientation!! Ryan and Cri still missing? Ryan is NEVER late. Tick, >tick and we hear the sound of accelerated RPM’s. Is that ever a sign! >Speed Racer is coming and under the checkered flag with 10 seconds >left on the clock. Packs grabbed, keys cached and we are off.
The hike up to the arch is about 1.5 miles and gains 950 feet. It is >mostly in the sun and layers are stripped off, at the owners >discretion. Finally we are at the arch and the rap in station. I spy a >tree so close to the edge as to be perfect for….Tom says no. I say >but, but! Tom says no. And that is that. He doesn’t argue when I say >”I think we go that way” so I don’t argue when he says non not there, >here!. But, but…never mind. I will feel some gratification when the >final folks descend down using my suggested station, but Tom is right. >The other station is better for setting up the simo raps and helping >our mixed group, with a much easier and less exposed transition onto >rappel.
My wife Judy starts to edge over to the drop. I nudge her…”it’s >warmer up here than it will be down there methinks.” She smiles and >keeps by her man. I find a water bottle on top. No one claims it. >Yippee! Later Cristina will claim it as Ryan’s. Sigh. I did get to >carry it. If I had been smart enough to drink from it perhaps he >wouldn’t have wanted it back? Booty found and lost. Then to my >horror……Both of our children are on the same simo rap!! They don’t >let the president and vice president fly on the same plane, but they >let my kids do the same 130 foot, overhanging rap together? I turn >away and think of other things. Then it is Judy and my turn. I think >of my pal Melon, in Bend, Oregon. He and his wife have custody of the >kids should fate deem it so. Wonder what he would think, watching this >scene.
Many of us have ropes and they go forward. The canyon is drop after >drop. After descending the second rap in Cassidy Canyon, I commented upon >setting down, that all the women were down there and all the guys >above.They smiled and said that they had noticed. They were all >arranged in a circle and the fat was flying. To be polite, I went >around the corner to set the next rap. Aaron arrived and I left it to >him. Amy had sauntered along. Amy, at age 12, is a year or 2 short of >being driven by some of these directives that seemed to be compelling, >the other “more” mature young ladies, to gossip. I asked Amy what the >gals had been discussing…..the hooking up, sometime in the future, >of an eligible male, it turns out. I asked Amy what she thought of >that….”She paused for about 5 seconds. Her forehead furrowed and she >said….”It was very disturbing.” I held back my need to laugh, until >I could go around the corner, back to the “Circle of Estrogen” where I >shared Amy’s reply, to their spontaneous laughter. What fun!
The third drop was a three stage affair. The second drop through a >natural bridge. I become the anchor for the third drop, speeding our >progress. The sun rarely finds its way down to us and moving is >preferred. The 4th rap is through a natural bridge too and is a >special place. Now we encounter the works of man. A steel cable adorns >a wall. Gringo steps of the large rectangular variety allow one to >access a rotten, tilted, unsecured wooden bridge, across a gap. I go >down and note that the bridge at my end is only touching about an inch >and a half. Not a super long way down, but… I feel a huge and strong >pull. I smell it and it is purely male. My lip twitches. I WANT to >cross the bridge. Heart rate increases. I try and suppress the animal >with rational analysis…as if. I decide to pass and start back. I >turn and gaze again. Something is puuuuulling me back. But I resist. >Back to man the rap station. I am pleased not to be a prisoner of my >animal. But then Hank goes over. I tell him…”Pretty bad.” But his >own animal is calling him. I watch. He tests. He hesitates. He goes >and he is across. Now on the other side, I guessed that his animal was >purring loudly, under the civilized man. And what is that pull I feel >back to the bridge myself. Surely I am not being forced by my animal >to revisit the scene…just because a Hunk, I mean Hank of a man has >done it? The pull is hard, but I let it go and rap.
One more drop, then a low overhanging alcove and some rock hop. We are >near the road and we stop, in the sun. We don’t want it to end. >Finally we stroll to the road and more sun. Cars are retrieved, abut >no one is in any rush. At this moment in time, there is no better >place to go to. Thanx Malia. It was a treat. >Ram
PS Malia has posted, in the photo section, under Cassidy Canyon. The >3rd picture give a good view of a bit less than half the canyon (to >the 3rd rap or so), starting at the arch, which looks like an alcove >in the picture.
>
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