| Guest |  TR - Canyoneering in North Wash
Not entirely on-topic, but I thought folks might enjoy this...
Monkey Business in the North Wash Playground
YoFest came and went, and my knee was still working, so the deep dark
narrow crack of Shenanigans was whispering in our ears. Ram had
attempted but been denied, due to excess weight. As his penance, he
had given up Single Malt between trips and made other tremendous
sacrifices to get down to fighting weight. Still, the canyon is
incredibly narrow - success was uncertain.
Joining us for this venture was the A-Team. Mike Offerman
volunteered, well, was volunteered, as the designated climber. Kari
Moe, Megan Polk and Barb Pollyea served as the designated "little
people", and Steve Cole came along, keeping his weight low by a
continuous application of nicotine. I was the designated scout,
having survived the previous attempt, and Ram served his usual role as
Master of Ceremonies.
The mantra for packing was "Nope, don't need it, doesn't fit", which
was applied to everything from harnesses to helmets to lunch. OK, a
little lunch is fine, but you'll have to eat it before we get to the
squeeze.
A crack of 10 AM start and we were walking across the desert on a
beautiful October morning. Meandering between bunches of bitter
brush, we found the top of the canyon and executed the first rappel,
Steve Cole demonstrating his climbing prowess by easily downclimbing
the short drop thus saving leaving a sling. Folks were sequenced down
the next drop, then I walked over and found a tree to rap off of,
saving everyone tramping across the steep sand. And off we go, the
fun begins.
The drama of the previous year had overwhelmed our memory, which
failed to retain the delight of this wonderful canyon. Nice narrows,
nice downclimbs, lots of elevator work, not too much squeezing - plus
the usual narrow slanted corridors requiring dragging, a couple scary
little sections, and generally a fair amount of work. We had all
prepared to push through by wearing disposable cotton long sleeves and
legs, and this paid off in spades as the squeezing took its toll on
our muscles, but not our skin.
A few hours work and we arrived at the open area, some sun to warm up
in, and a break for lunch. Anticipation of the tight squeezes ahead
kept the calorie intake modest.
After lunch the canyon narrows and starts to drop precipitously. I
marveled at the boyz' escape the previous year, where they up-climbed
some of these tight, dropping corridors. Wow! We soon arrived at the
first rappel, and the sandy belly-crawl that Mike was designated to
enjoy. The drop was a little more than I remembered, and we quickly
sequenced people down, leaving Mike at the top with the rope. From
below, we followed Mike's progress across the belly-crawl by his
measured breathing and intermittent scraping. No cursing, so it must
not have been too bad. He soon made it over to the chockstones and
set to setting up the rope. Ever try to set up a rope to rappel on a
chockstone you are standing on, in a narrow slot. With the folks
below insisting that you go one way or the other, OH, and make sure it
pulls easy. After some finagling, the rope was set and Mike was down
in the dark bowels of the earth with the rest of us.
Leaving one of the "little people" at the rope, we moved on - and the
canyon intensified. The sky was lost way up there somewhere. Another
20 minutes and we came to the "Main Squeeze."
I had forgotten just how cool this feature is. About one hundred feet
long, amazingly consistent and straight, it is, for most of its
length, just slightly larger than my chest: 9" to 10". The gentle
undulations are lovely, and it really helps that the rock is smooth
and covered with a bit of rock dust, making pushing one's chest
through it considerably easier. But most remarkable, the slot
proceeds skyward at the same width to the limit of vision, at least 60
feet.
We squeezed through, we big people using the classic sternum jam / hip
jam pivot method, occasionally hunting up or down for the specific
spot that would allow passage. A cool head and careful route
selection got us "big people" through, while the wee ones danced
through, for once having the advantage bigtime. Completing the Main
Squeeze, we sent one uh dem little ones back to fetch Meg at the rope,
and continued on. After a brief respite, another charming narrow
section required more chest compressions. We were soon through and at
the final rappel.
We made short work of that. As I lowered myself into the icy pool,
not anxious to swim, I spied a line of holds on the left-hand side
that looked like they might work. A bit of careful traversing led
past the pool to the quicksand beyond. I stood around a while,
enjoying victory, then spent a few minutes extracting myself from the
muck. We zipped the packs across and all enjoyed the traverse.
Hiking down the spectacular canyon, Ram sniffed out the "Kelsey Exit"
and we were not-soon-enough back at the car, drinking ice-cold cream
sodas from Steve's cooler. Yee-haw. Now, if only Steve drank
beer…
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