Happy Birthday to my brother ERIC!
Woke up and walked toward a spectacular sunrise this morning. The fiery show from last night played in reverse. Behind us, the sun’s rays shone on Bryce and the Cockscombs well before it began to warm us. A wonderful way for the day to greet us!
Lindy is often the first one out and it was odd not having him in front of us this morning. At one point we got to a rise, waved in his general direction and I yelled his mantra, “Every day is Fun day!” as loud as I could. Maybe he heard us in spirit.
The sun was kind almost all day. We made good time across the high desert roads, encountering a number of hunters looking for deer. “Where are you heading? Oh, really? We’re looking for deer. See any? Bryce, huh, well, they’re pretty safe in there.” The only deer we actually did see was strapped to the hood of an ATV.
Eventually we left the roads in one of Paradise Canyon’s side canyons. Water began to flow almost immediately, though it was pretty nasty looking at first. We both were carrying 3 liters, so the sight was pretty perturbing, still, I’d risk carrying too much water before I’d risk carrying too little any day.
The flow steadily increased both in quality and quantity all the way down to Paradise Canyon. From the confluence (Paradise was flowing too) flow gradually decreased until we began to only see the occasional pool. No matter there will be plenty of water and Last Chance Creek.
Paradise Canyon is aptly named, especially when compared with the surrounding area. A stream, even an intermittent one, lined with cottonwoods is pretty refreshing after 24 hours of Juniper/pinion/sage and dry washes. Though the colors of this canyon can’t compare with Hackberry or the Paria, it makes up for it with interesting rock formations, including the occasional alcove with a hanging garden.
After we hit Last Chance Creek, the pools of water began to come closer and closer together. About a mile before the Smokey Mountain Road, there was a small steady flow. Just before the road we found a large pool with plenty of tracks from all kinds of animals including a small bear and a cougar (Ungato Grande!)
We followed the muddy drainage, eventually switching to the benches above for easier travel. I kept an eye out for artifacts but found none. Soon after we returned to the creek I commented, “I think I’m going to stay close to the water from here on out. It looks like the water flow is decreasing.” In about twenty yards, the creek had disappeared. Leaving nothing but an occasional mud hole. Distraught (our 29 mile waterless streak had just gone up to 35 miles), we decided to continue and come back if we didn’t find water in 20 minutes—our hope continuing around every bend until “Mas agua! Mas agua!” I found a small nasty tepid pond that could refresh little but our hope. Our mood ebbed and flowed with the creeks presence the rest of the afternoon. When we came by big clear pools we celebrated and commenced to dancing. Long waterless stretches were met with silence and anxious looks. Finally about a mile downstream from Needle Eye Canyon, we met flowing water again—just as night was approaching. We followed the flow, resolving to stop when it did and testing the taste of the various pools. “This one taste like iron.” “This one’s ok.” “This one looks good. . . . No it’s too salty.” “This one’s a bit alkaline.” “Mmmm delicious! Camp here?” “Sounds good to me.”
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