4-16-06 Last week I was in a group that consisted of three of the original ill-fated team that spent the night on a flake in an obscure SE Utah canyon last year. They dubbed the canyon PD(or someone did)because that uncertain night had it’s various effects on all of the members of the team.So,around the 1st aniversary of that momentous night,three of the team,along with a bunch of others,assembled to give it another go. The canyon had been decended a few times since the fateful night but the three had not been together at”the jaws of death”since the flake ordeal. The fireside chats and morning talk circled around the need to hold your energy and nerve through the high stemming and to hold your sphincter when climbing through the silos.Large quantities of liquids were consumed in the early morning hours.We would have a rim team for the day and could dispence with all unneeded gear for the business section of the canyon so we would be traveling light and have a belay from the rim when needed.Plus they would be carrying extra drinks and snacks that would prove useful. Doug decided to join the rim team that morning.He had faced all the demons he cared to see on his last attempt.He was smart enough to learn that he didn’t ever want to be in there again. We hiked up and met Ryan that morning.He had scoped the mouth of the canyon and reported that the water normally there was nearly non- existant.How would that change the exit moves? “What about the two remaining pioneers?”…You ask? Well,Ram had talked about the canyon for what seemed like ages.I knew of the 60-or-more foot exposure,the strenuous climbing and the dreaded”silos of death”.Ram freely admitted that he hadn’t been on his best canyoning game in the previous week.Just one of those things where you don’t feel like your body is in the ultimate canyon mode.Easter Sunday his game face was firmly pasted on.He nurtured every ounce of energy and combated heat the whole morning.But I couldn’t help but see the edge of horror that was just under the surface. Tom had just arrived the day before and it was difficult for me to judge his mood.I thought I may have seen a hint of trepidation in his eyes and a discreet bead of sweat on his brow,but who knows?Does The Emperor even feel fear?Ancient texts suggest NOT.Again…Who knows? I was told that the first two sections would give me a good idea if I wanted to try the final section.I could escape and join the rim team for the final scary narrows if necessary. We entered the infamous canyon in good time and quickly decended the upper sections.The climbing was strenuous and a tad bit off the deck.Not exactly death defying but not really in the usual comfort zone either. Everyone seemed to be trying to work out the tension of the anticipation that we had endured.Once in the business we all settled into the usual flowing feeling of canyon travel. And so we came to the entry to the final section in quick order.Maybe too quick.Our rim team had been held up and we proceeded to wait and wait for them to show up while our muscles and resolve cooled. After more than an hour we entered the beast.The team was large so those in the back never got a chance to see what was going on.After much waiting in precarious positions we would come to the moves and find out what all the cursing and grunting up front was all about.Not only was it very difficult and strenuous canyoning but it had a way of getting worse every step of the way. The first silo caused the group to stall in a big way.The way to cross is not obvious.You are way off the ground in some narrows when the walls open up to a size where you can barely imagine reaching across.Entering and exiting look almost do-able,but once you’re out there in the middle you can’t see a way to stick.It’s going to require a dynamic move and it’s going to kill you if you miss. The guys out front found a nub on the left wall that could be used as a foothold,and the rest of the group followed through.Some took a belay from the rim team and ended up regretting it.The belay did not allow for dynamic movement and tended to catch a climber mid-move.Un- clipping from the rope required it’s own special kind of gymnastics.Communication to the rim via radios and whistles proved to be problematic with the wind,poor radio reception and the spooky helicopter that decided to fly over us. Ryan got on the wrong line through and I may have heard his voice rise a full octave when he heard Arron announce that he was about 18 feet above where everyone else went.Not easy stuff to get way up there,but even worse to get back down.Communication with the belay team was nearly impossible and the strain of the moment was high.Ryan was forced to downclimb to the nub and came across unharmed but I’ll wager that he was feeling a little stressed there for a moment. The next two silos were easier to climb through but,wouldn’t you know,they’re even higher off the deck.Moves that would seem routine at ground level,now have a life or death consequence and nobody’s unaware of it.We picked our way carefully through the final section and reached the final bomb-bay slot out to clear fresh air.This turned out to be a scary but fun elevator ride down to the bottom. We had completed the canyon!Demons be damned! Tom and Ram expressed no special feelings of goals being completed,or dragons being slayed,or any of that rubbish,but I think I dectected a certain pride of a job well done. Some of us checked out a couple of other slots in the area and one was a dud but the other was a maybe-Sandthrax-like narrows that will tempt us back for further toils. My journal says”nother broken arrow point”.One of six I found in two weeks on Lake Powell. Dave
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