...and dynos into the crack (with a sling from above).

Aaron and Hank had upclimbed this final section the day before. Aaron and I are together strolling. He warns me about letting my guard down too early. There is more business ahead. Spiderman and Dave finally get to stretch their legs and blitz the lower canyon. Aaron and I follow and the bottom drops out of our stroll. A 30 foot high blimp-shaped bombay hole underneath us. An easy angled stem at an exposed constriction does not reduce the seriousness. It is a funny spot. The wall taking our feet is bathed in sunshine. The first since we entered the canyon. The reflection of the sun prevents one from seeing the dark drop just below. You could be 3 feet off the ground for all you can tell. You know better. Nothing to do but focus on the moves. Exactly what you're supposed to do. It's easy with blinders on. Another silo 60 feet up and around the corner,the gradual descent to the ground. Aaron and I stop a few feet up and look down at our smiling pals, at difficulties end. Then we come down, after prolonging the feeling. We plan our trip toward Trail Canyon, if the other group is not back and wait for Hank and Buck to finish and stroll into camp, meeting the Trail Canyon crew in one of life's perfect timing moments. Both groups are just electrified, as we all seem to be walking on air. Stories fly. It is too bad the Steve and his crew must leave. The skits and campfire that night were extra special.

I thank Hank and Dave for prodding me into going. Steve for making it that much safer. To Aaron, for climbing up with that rope and making sure I have no stories, but good ones, to share with his mother. Bucky for his cool and calm and Rob for being there, in case anything had gone poorly. I'll go anywhere with you guys.

Bucky joins the split-pants freedom club. No commandos here!

Bucky approaching the final tough upclimb...

...and showing good form while doing it.

Nearing the end, the deep, final silo.

Bucky climbing past the last silo.

To myself, I asked the question why I was so pleased with the descent. Always an exhilarating feeling, this time is was even stronger. Certainly the history of the place was a part of it. But there was more to it. I was forced to face the fact that it was partly because it is a known and feared canyon. If it had been a unknown canyon, in the corner of Escalante, would I have been as high? High, yes, but perhaps not as much. The day revealed a lot of flaws. These type days and places always seem to. Another, and very good, reason to visit them. My fear, my incompetency and now my vanity, as I wear the feather in my cap. It embarrasses and well it should. Confession is good for the soul. Sandthrax is a dangerous place to allow self deception. The place demands honesty.

Dave and Hank seemed to know I needed to go before I did. I told them that I was thrilled with the experience, but in no rush to go back, perhaps ever. They both laughed a derisive laugh at me and said "You're going back!" Here it is a week later, as I write this and I know they are right. I think about Stevee and Tom and Corbin and Roy and Wade and Jud and Murray and several others, who haven't been and I wish to share this place with them. All the people I have bonded with before, stemming out between two high rock walls. I also have two 15 foot sections, one vertical, one horizontal that I wish to do in better style, but mostly I will go back to "dance" in there again. The joyful dance of mind and body moving as one.

Back to a peaceful night at camp.