The Jug

This post is mostly about our canyoneering adventure on Saturday, but I'll kick things off by describing our Friday night fun. Mike and I went to our regular climbing gym to watch a competition they were hosting that night. Participants did a speed competition to see who could climb two routes the fastest and a dyno competition. To dyno is to jump from one hold to the next, leaving the wall completely. Some of the dynos were for holds ten feet above the start hold. It was pretty impressive to watch.

Anyways... on to the real adventure...

While everyone else I know was enjoying football on Saturday, Josh, Jacob, Mike, and I went canyoneering in Salome Jug. The Jug is a short section of canyon with tall, smooth granite walls and quite a bit of water. This combination means that the Jug is the best natural waterpark I've ever been to. There are your typical canyon swim-throughs and a waterfall rappel, but also several smooth chutes perfect for sliding down. The Jug is the only canyon in Arizona that we've done multiple times, and its novelty has not yet worn off.


A view of where the canyon widens out.


The mountains above our canyon.

We left Phoenix around 8:00 and drove for 2 hours to the east, past Globe and near Roosevelt Lake. Just as we were pulling up to the trail head, four more cars full of people pulled in behind us. About 30 people poured out of the cars. Needless to say, this canyon is not nearly as remote or as technically difficult as some of the canyons we do. I chose the canyon hoping to entice some of my novice friends to try out canyoneering, but, alas, the usual suspects were the only ones to show. No matter -- we had a blast. They just don't know what they missed!


Roosevelt Lake.


Part of that 30-person group.

The trail to the canyon is an old jeep track, so it was pretty easy going despite the fact that the day warmed up fast. By the time we got to the canyon itself we were heated up enough to be excited about plunging into the slightly chilly waters. Actually, the temperature was pretty perfect all around in my opinion.


A view of what the canyon looks like as you're hiking down it.

We took our time wandering through the canyon since it was such a beautiful day and the group of 30 was ahead of us. At one point we stopped by one of those natural waterslides for a half an hour at least, crawling back up top to slide down again and again. A little while later we stopped for second lunch (not that the canyon was that exhausting).


The slide!


The view up-canyon from our second lunch spot.

Despite our frequent stops and unhurried progress, we still caught up with the large group at the top of the canyon's only rappel. It takes a while to schlep that many people down a rope. We only had to wait for about 5 more people before setting up our own rappel, however. Just as we were getting started, a couple showed up behind us. They were somewhat unprepared for this part of the canyon, so we let them rappel down our rope. The rappel itself is pretty simple. It's only about 25 feet tall and goes down a waterfall chute rather than over a clearly defined cliff. Once you get to the bottom of this rappel there are only a few more pools to swim through before the canyon opens up and you can climb out.


The one rappel.


My new canyoneering shoes. I love them!

Sightings on the trip included a foot-long centipede (poisonous!), hundreds of small toads, tons of rather large spiders, some fish (up to 8 inches long), several large dragonflies, and a very dead dog. The dog had a collar on, and we suspect that he fell into the canyon somehow.


Mr. centipede.


The toads filled up lots of little cracks all along the canyon walls.


Dragonflies picturesquely framing Jacob's head.


RIP Fido.

On our way home we stopped for Mexican food at Los Hermanos. We had an awesome time, and I'm only sad that more people didn't join us. Next week I'm going to a bachelorette party in Vegas, the week after that, Mike is going to a bachelor party in Vegas, and the week after that our friends Josh and Amy are getting married. Therefore, it may be a little while before I have another adventure to post. Still, you can count on one sooner or later.

Trad Climbing Granite Mountain

It has been a couple of hectic weeks, what with the new semester starting and all, but we managed to get away from the hustle and bustle in order to do some camping and climbing this Labor Day weekend.

We left late afternoon on Saturday with a car full of people and gear. You wouldn't expect a one-day trip to require so much stuff, but we're experts at choosing activities that require tons of gear. I can be a minimalist, living off of the few items I can haul across countries on my bicycle for months at a time, but that's not how we live here in the States. 'Round here we choose activities that dictate frequent trips to REI. And once you have the stuff, you gotta use it, right? Right. So, with four passengers and a day's worth of gear, Mike declared we were bordering our vehicle's posted weight limit of 850 lbs. My poor little Pontiac Vibe didn't have the same pick up 'n' go she usually does. Maybe that's why the air-con went offline for a while Sunday morning...I'm getting ahead of myself, though.

We arrived at our very commercial campsite right around dusk, so we had just enough time to set up our tents and collect some wood for our campfire before darkness fell. We got the fire roaring so Mike and I could cook our hot dogs and Josh and Amy could boil water for their Mountain House lasagna dinner. I won't disgust you with a recap of our campfire conversation, but it started with the question "What would you have your followers do if you were to start a cult?" Luckily campfire-roasted marshmallows go good with just about any topic of conversation, no matter how gruesome.



Our campfire for roasting dogs and 'mallows.



Mike's fire art.

We took our time waking up and packing up the next morning, so we didn't head get out to the trailhead until 9:30 or so. It turns out that the 2-mile hike in was a brutally hot, uphill death march. Well, maybe it wasn't that bad. Still, Mike thought he was suffering from heat exhaustion, and it took us a good long while to go those 2 miles. By the time we got to Pine Tree Ledge, the base of our multi-pitch climb, we were ready for lunch. We ate, recovered from our hike, and prepped for the route.



A delightfully scraggly tree.



A field of wild daisies with Granite Mountain in the background.



I never bothered to stop and take a good photo of Granite Mountain -- this is Josh's.



Lunch on Pine Tree Ledge. We had summer sausage with cheese and crackers. Again, Josh's picture.

For those of you who don't know much about climbing, this paragraph will attempt to initiate you. Trad(itional) climbing is the type of climbing that does not rely on bolts or man-made additions to the rock face. Instead, trad climbers use different types of gear that include hexes, nuts, and cams, which look different, but essentially do the same thing: jam in cracks. A trad climber, then, places this gear in the rock and sets the climbing route as he goes. He's unprotected until he successfully places the first piece of gear and clips in. The more gear, the safer the climb for the person leading the climb. If he falls, the gear (and the rope) will catch the climber, assuming everything was placed well. When he gets to the top, he places several pieces of gear to anchor the rope. Then the second climber ascends the route. This is safer, since the rope is anchored at the top of the route, rather than being placed as you go. The person seconding has the job of removing all the gear from the cracks. In a multi-pitch climb, once both climbers are at "the top" (meaning a ledge or stopping place at the top of the first pitch), they start the process over for the next pitch. Lesson 1 over.

So, Josh started leading our climbing route for the day, which was an easy (5.6), 3-pitch climb called "Debut," according to our book. Amy seconded his lead, cleaning the gear from the route so that Mike could also lead the route with his own gear. I seconded Mike's climb, cleaning his gear on my way up. The route had a lot of overhanging rocks, so I couldn't see the end of the first pitch from the bottom. When I finished climbing the first pitch I was informed that we had actually climbed pitches 1 and 2 in our first go, so we only had one more pitch to climb. This time we could see the top from our belay ledge (the person feeding and securing the rope is the belayer). By the time I finished my first pitch, Josh was almost to the top of the route, so I watched him finish, then watched Amy second his route and Mike lead ours. By the time I got to the top, it was time to pack up and head out for our long hike back. It takes an incredible amount of time to analyze the rock and set gear in trad climbing, so it's easy to burn daylight.



Josh leading "Debut."



Amy belaying Josh.



Amy seconding Josh's climb.



Mike's trad rack (a trad rack is a collection of nuts, hexes, cams, etc.)



One of those overhangs that makes it hard to see the full route.



Both Mike and Amy on the first pitch.



Mike leading the first pitch.



A view of the second pitch from the top of the first.



"Rawr!" -- Josh's picture of me at the top of the second pitch.



This is the best summit shot I got. We were in a bit of a hurry to start our hike back since it was getting late.

The hike out wasn't as grueling as the hike in, but it was still dark by the time we got back to our car. We stopped at Red Robin on the way home and slept quite well that night.

Our next adventure is coming up very soon: we will be canyoneering "the Jug" this Saturday. The wait shouldn't be too long for photos and a new blog post this time around!

Sedona Views

So, you thought you'd never hear about our adventures again, right? I must admit, I didn't think blogging was necessary once I got back to the States. I thought Facebook updates and regular phone calls to my family were enough. I could tell my stories, post a few pictures, and get on with things. That's all fine and good, but then I realized another problem: I forget things.

Mike and I have been on many adventures big and small back in the States, but I have no real record of them. I don't keep a diary. Some people might argue that there's no real point in keeping a record of the past -- just live in the moment, right? I agree to a certain extent, but I also like to reminisce. And when our friends get back from a weekend trip and ask "Have you guys gone canyoneering in Bear Canyon before?" I usually don't have a clue; "Is that the one with the high rock walls, the freezing cold water, and the ridiculously gorgeous views?" Ummm...yeah. I've just described half the canyons in this state. When you can't even recall the names of the insanely beautiful places you've been, maybe you aren't taking enough time to appreciate them. So, with a little prompting from Mike, I've decided to take up the blog again.

It's tempting to back-track and tell you about all the stuff we've done in the past few years that we haven't recorded, but that would be madness. We haven't ventured across our borders in a while (except for that doomed rafting trip in Mexico on a river that turned out to be bone dry), but we've been to Iowa, New York, Boston, Vegas, Hawaii, and many, many places closer to home. Speaking of home, by the way, we have one of those now, too. Since I'm not going to delve into the madness of a hundred smaller trips, I'll start with the most logical first step: I'll talk about the short trip we just got back from.

Sedona, AZ. If you haven't been, it's one of the most beautiful places in the United States. And it's only 2 hours from Phoenix. (And we have a spare bedroom, so come visit us and the lovely Sedona sometime). Sedona is famous for it's striking red rocks landscape, and it is considered by many to be a place of spiritual significance. We went because we worked out a sweet deal with a friends' parents, essentially trading photography and editing expertise for 3 nights at a Bed & Breakfast.


A typically gorgeous Sedona view.

After one day of work, we spent our second full day going on various small trips around the area. We started by checking out the Chapel of the Holy Cross, which was built by one of Frank Lloyd Wright's proteges. (I'm suddenly fond of FLW because I also went to check out his Taliesin West architecture school recently. That's another fascinating Phoenix day trip.)


The Chapel of the Holy Cross.


The garish and out of place mega mansion across from the austere Chapel of the Holy Cross. Rumor has it that the man who invented LASIK is the owner.

After that we went to Red Rock Crossing, which is a park area surrounding a creek with lots of great views of the red rocks. There are lots of little paths, plenty of swimming spots, and even wild blackberries along the way!


An old mill at Red Rock Crossing.


A cairn (trail marker) midstream. (Mike's picture)


Mike napping in a tree.


Mike the monkey.


One of those pretty views of creek and trees and red rocks and sky that is so...Sedona. (Mike's picture)

The last stop of the day brought us to the Devil's Bridge. This is a natural archway in the red rock near Sedona. The hike itself is only about 1-2 miles and is fairly easy-going. That is, until you run into a rattlesnake! Mike was ahead of me on the trail, heard the ominous rattle, and leaped back about 3 feet. Luckily we managed to scootch past him after taking his picture. In my 5 years of hiking in AZ, this is the first time I've seen a rattlesnake on a hiking trail, so it was exciting, but also a bit nerve-racking. I was a bit more skittish than usual on our hike out.


Devil's Bridge from below.


The view across from Devil's Bridge.


Rattlesnake! (Mike's picture)


Devil's Bridge from above.


Me on top of Devil's Bridge. (Mike's picture)


Mike doing a kung fu crane on top of Devil's Bridge.

We ate at the most fabulous restaurant called Elote that night and retired to our lovely Sedona Views Bed & Breakfast. We had slightly bigger plans for our last day in Sedona, so after soaking in our own private hot tub under the stars, we plopped into bed.

Bear Mountain was our last-day's challenge. We hiked up as the vegetation and color of the rocks changed significantly. The bottom was characterized by red rocks and cacti, while the top had white rocks and pine trees. Our elevation went from 4600ft. to 6400ft. over the course of a couple of hours. My feet were a bit sore and the going was a little slower than normal because I did not have my hiking boots with me. (I destroyed those on a canyoneering trip down Mount Lemmon with Mike and my cousin, Chris.) Instead, I had only my Vibram Five Fingers, which are lovely for short hikes (like the one to Devil's Bridge), but take a bit more getting used to for longer, rockier hikes. Ah well. The small amount of pain was definitely worth it for the amazing views from the top. The Grand Canyon is gorgeous, but so is red rock country. If you're looking for an exotic domestic getaway, Sedona is worth checking out. It's good for adventurous families or romantic couples' weekends. And now I'm sounding like a travel brochure...


The beginning stages of Bear Mountain.


Prickly Pear cactus on the lower portion of Bear Mountain.


Little lizard on the trail.


The whitish rock towards the top of the mountain. (Mike's picture)


Views to rival the Grand Canyon. (Mike's picture)


We live in such a gorgeous state!


Don't fall!


Uh-oh. Maybe I should put down my camera and help.


Do you see the bear on a diving board? (Mike's picture)

Anyway, we had a great time, and Sedona was beautiful enough to inspire me to take up blogging again. I'm not sure how regular my posts will be since school is starting up again next week, but I'm sure there will be many adventures to come. I hope you enjoy hearing about our adventures and looking at our pictures once again. (By the way, a lot of these shots are mine, and I edited all of them. Mike won a fabulous Canon G11 camera for me, so we take that on most of our hiking trips now.)