II
Lake Powell

On Lake Powell I gained a better understanding of what is involved, and that boosted my confidence and sense of involvement. This time I wasn't just along for the ride. I had still contributed little to the logistics of the operation, but my depth of appreciation for the enormity of the situation had grown. Everything had grown. My love for the desert, which I thought complete, had expanded and blossomed.

I hadn't foreseen my desire to visit places unknown. It had not occurred to me that an unquenchable yearning and heightened experience are the reward for going to places seldom trodden. It dawned on me then that I place considerable value in the fact that I may be one of the few who has passed that way before. The unknown is the facet of canyon exploration that distinguishes it from all other forms of canyoneering and it has an attraction which cannot easily be denied. It would be this allure that would fuel my search in the upcoming years.

Our exploration on Lake Powell that spring was characterized by its variety. No two experiences were remotely alike and that seemed to suit me well. We gained confidence in Driftwood canyon. Fixing ropes and leaving personnel at the drops seemed to be the safest way to push the canyon without pushing in over our heads.

I was awakened and quite shaken the next day when I took a day off and the group went to explore another slot. The canyon had been extensively upclimbed and scouted out from the bottom. The day dawned clear blue, and as I joined on the approach I felt confident in the group's ability to finish out the slot. I returned to our camp without a care in the world. Near dark, with the boat well behind schedule and the fate of our group far from certain, I began a list of rescue gear and a journey of self-discovery. For the first time I was envisioning the catastrophe that would be involved in a significant injury and the scope of a rescue operation in this vast and remote landscape. When the crew had returned safe and sound with a new adventure under their belts, I was relieved but still had a distinct feeling of the significance of my own thoughts.

On the Boat.

A few days later we checked out a small slot which looked great on the map but turned out to be a shallow and open crease in the blond Navajo sandstone. That was my first dud. Up to then, my participation in exploring had come after the canyon had been scouted and confirmed as being a worthy technical slot. I had benefited from my partners' experience to such an extent that I wasn't even aware of it. It had seemed to me as if there were slot canyons all over the place, which were just waiting to be found. Now I had a small taste of the disappointment that can be the product of some fairly tough and lengthy labor. I was just beginning to see the truth.

For the remainder of the Powell Trip, we enjoyed some established canyons of very high quality, while also taking the time to engage in a couple more explorations. One slot we looked into was of moderate difficulty for most of its length, until it turned into quite a daunting slot with several unanchorable potholes, dropping into the dark at the end of the canyon. We discussed our options and, for the first time, I observed the dynamics of group indecision, brought on by a myriad of reasons. When we backed out, it was the right thing to do but I was enlightened as to how fear, fatigue, heat, time factors, and all the accumulated concerns, can pile on and easily make a group turn back when they intended to go on through.

Our final exploration of the Trip was successful in every way and left me with a feeling of accomplishment and a load of great memories. For the second time I was out front on unknown terrain, and it seemed a magnificent place to be.

Lake Powell Exploration Team