Wayne is my father in law for those of you who don’t know. He has no concept of distance. Any hike that takes less than all day is a “short” hike. I have been learning this the very, very, very hard way.
Have you all heard of slot canyons? They are nature’s way of imposing a size limit. Last trip to Escalante I was encouraged to go on a night hike that would take us through two: Spooky and Peek-a-boo. Contrary to what their names might suggest to your imagination, they were not “cute-scary.” Wayne, it is cracking me up that your birthday wish is for me to relive the experience. Honestly, I think I could have hung in there had the temperature been a little farther from 90 than it was that night, and if we had had a few less “Aunt Jan’s” with us. She is just one woman, but that night she was everywhere I turned – reminding me of just how tight the canyon was, screaming at scorpions, and being, in general, my slot-canyon-hiking-nemesis.
I’m sure she is a very nice woman.
We started the hike around eleven (because it would be cooler…um-hm, so not 100, but 90.) Wayne had to “find” it first (in the pitch black), there are a few different slot canyons that branch off from this particular area, and we wouldn’t want to start down the wrong one now, would we? Sketchy. –I am in danger of abusing my use of “” marks telling this story, but I want to make sure my sarcasm and skepticism come through crystal clear…
Anyway, we started at eleven (after an hour plus drive to get there) and finished up around 2:30ish am. That is three and a half hours Wayne. That is a long hike. To someone who has never hiked in their entire life before marrying into your family, who grew up thinking she was tough because she could last at a mall for 8 hours without feeling tiered, three and a half hours of claustrophobia in the nearly pitch black is a long-ass hike.
(This is me towards the end of it all. Incase you have never seen it before, this is what it looks like when someone is crying on the inside...) Sweating like a pig, wondering if it was possible I could have developed asthma in the last twenty-four hours, and feeling totally ashamed and looked down on by the other thirty people who went with us (and who all seemed to have absolutely no problem at all with the, uhem, difficulty of the hike) I settled in for the long drive home. Every time I go on a hike like this I feel sure that Jacob is wishing he had married someone else, someone a tad more... robust, perhaps. I pondered that thought for the next hour, until Jacob and I could be alone and he could give me a reassuring "spoon" until I fell asleep.
I love you Wayne, happy birthday, and thank you for being from Escalante. Despite it all, it is my favorite place in the continental U.S.
Next birthday would you like me to write about Cape Verde?
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