Rob coming down the second rappel.
The bottom soon drops out of the wash we are walking in, and twists and turns down below. Looks like fun. There is a healthy, large pine perfectly situated to anchor the first rap, so we toss a sling around it, add a rapid link, and anchor one end of our 200' rope to it. I grab the rope bag and clip it to my left side, and get on rappel. Rather than fling the ropebag into the unknown, I can rap with it keeping it from tangling.
Once over the edge, I can see the first rap is only about 60 feet into a pothole ledge, with some fair size logs (anchor building material). I rap to the ledge and radio up the situation, then poke my nose out to look for the next drop, all of 15 feet away - which turns out to be a nice dropper down a flute, and a bit bigger, maybe 100 feet. All good. Rob and Cory c'mon down!
With the three of us there it seems like a good idea to meat anchor me down the flute with our 110' rope, so I can look around. We are looking for sign of a drop longer than 200 feet ahead, as that is the longest rope we have, and we have not brought a bolt kit (which allows more flexibility, for instance, in getting an anchor hanging on the rope in the middle of a blank wall). I push ahead and, lo and behold, I see features I recognize. This is the MIA slot, a nice little 10-minute exploration UP from the bottom, when hiking out the MIA trail. It is much too early to think I am almost on the floor of the MIA exit (at the half-way point), but that is the connection my brain makes. Wow! Who'd of thought!
I return to the bottom of the flute, and give Cory and Rob the good news / bad news. We (probably "I" would be more accurate) decide we can fix the 200 foot rope off the initial tree (and fetch it when we are back up at the top), and Cory and Rob can use it for the flute rappel. Then we can do the easy downclimbs to finish the canyon and exit the upper half of the MIA trail in time to check out some of the other possibilities in the area! Sounds like a plan.
Cory slaps a biner block in near the end of the rope and pulls it up to the initial anchor, tossing the rope down the flute. Rob and Cory rap down. We gather the other rope (110 feet) and the pull cord (200 feet) and proceed downcanyon. Cory goes first while I pontificate on the easy downclimbs ahead. Cory comes to a drop. I say "oh, its a downclimb". Cory says "I think not". I say "sure it is", walk over, and there we have it, an 80' rappel. Uh oh.
At this point, it is very, very clear that we are not where I thought we were, and that it should have been obvious to me quite some time ago. One does not descend 800 vertical feet by a 10 minute walk down a flat canyon, a 60' rap and a 100' rap. Do the math!
Sigh! My bad memory! Double Sigh!.
It is clear that proceeding downcanyon with the meager resources we have would not be prudent. One of us could tibloc up the 2 raps above us... unpleasant, slow. I wonder what is downcanyon? Rob and Cory set up a meat anchor, and I go down the rap to see what is below... which is: 100 feet of twists and turns, then an escape out onto the ridge on the left, AND it looks like a big rap is in store quite soon. I wander up the ridge, and the gods look after the stupid (me, today), and allow a 4th class route back up to the top. I reset the rope for pulling, rap down, pull the upper rope, toss a sling around the logs and rap down to join Cory and Rob. Whew! We then rig a sling around a rock and rap the 80'er down a very pretty flute. Back on track, only an hour lost!
Back downcanyon, the next little rap we could probably downclimb, but... we rig a sling off a handy root and rap 20'. Forty feet further is obviously "the business" - a big drop - how big? We discuss anchors for a bit. Rob cleans the debris from a well-positioned chockstone. Good? He steps on it, and it rotates. Suspicious! He plays with it more, then we decide to drop it 10' to the ledge below where, if it doesn't bounce over the edge, we can use it for a deadman anchor. Rob tries to rotate it and drop it through, but it declines, instead seating in a more-solid position where it no longer rotates. "How do you feel about it?" - "Uh, I don't know. How do YOU feel about it?" Overall, I guess we felt pretty OK, because that was our anchor.
We crawl under the chockstone to the ledge 10' below, and peer over the edge. Hmmm. Looks like it might be as little as 200' - but it might not. We tie off the end of the 200' rope, and Rob chucks the rope silo off. whirr whirr whirr and a soft thwat. Ooops. I solid thump woulda meant the ropebag hit the ground. A soft thwat usually means it did not. We rig a meat anchor for Rob so he can lean out over the edge. Yup, rope bag on the end of the rope, some ways above the ground.
At this point, we could upclimb the last rap and escape onto the ridge - but let's give it a try at least. We rig off the chockstone and anchor, then a lowering system (dynamic anchor) on the 110'er tied to the 200'er. Rob drops over the edge, with the capability to go 300 feet if he NEEDS to. We discuss various ways of rapping 250' with the stuff we have, and getting our ropes back... on rappel, Rob radios up he has found a ledge with a stout tree 150 feet down, and the ground looks about 100 feet away. Excellent news. We pack away our nefarious schemes for outwitting the canyon gods, and rap down, first Cory, then I, last.
Rob has indeed found a worthy ledge with a 15" diameter pine growing on it. I tiptoe over to the tree, un-rig, and Rob starts pulling the rope - which goes about 5 feet then stops. Huh! We pull it back the other way, then Rob pulls again - stops in the same place. Seems unlikely, but its definitely not pulling. We try a few more times, pull harder, etc. We are 40' below an edge so whipping it is not going to help...
The good news here is that we still have the other end. I whip out the Tiblocs and head on up, finding the inconsiderate last rappeler (uh, that would be me) had failed to undo the twists in the rope, so the biner block pulled down 5', then hit the twisties and jammed. I extend the anchor a bit, but mostly make sure the two strands are completely straight and rap back to the tree, where the rope pulls easily, and we rap 110 feet to the ground.
So far, my stupidity has cost us only 2 hours, but it definitely could have been far worse.
