It all began at the infamous 4th rappel in East Lep, I was hanging out with sand in my eyes, soaking in the wind and trying to live large. This is 2010 of course. I hadn’t been in the canyons for a while; I started thinking,”This canyoneering stuff is fun. This canyon is really fun. I should do this more often. I’ve been going on too many climbing trips lately. I should do more canyon trips.”
So there I was, driving home from an epic East Lep; thinking, “Hmm, I’m really sick of driving, but I really should go on another canyon trip. Those are really fun. I don’t want to drive anymore though. If I’m going to go, I’d really better make it worth it.” I sent out a couple smoke signals.
So there I am on the following Saturday, trying not to puke; thinking, “Holy crap, it was a lot of work getting up that crack, I probably shouldn’t have held my breath the whole time.”
Ahhh, Sandthrax. That’s how to live large!
_____________________________________________
We’re stoked…I think. There are five of us headed for the Sick Nasty. Landon Michaels, Eric Godfrey, Brendan Busch, Carlos T. Ball and myself. The last time Eric, Landon, Carlos and I did a canyon together, we got flashed in Heaps. I blamed Carlos and hope for better luck. The sky was clear blue, the thoughts were happy and the stoke was high. This was going to be a good day.
We got to the head of the drainage and took in a view of the Henry’s, capped in snow. So good. We gear up and head in. A short rap comes up quick, and we’re in it. A little walking and easy scrambling; then it starts.
Huff n’ puff, huff n’ puff. Gallluuumppp, gaaalllluuumppp. Back n’ feet, back n’ feet. Squirm, squirm squirm. Ahh, living the dream. This is kinda fun.
We reach the first upclimb. Oh, it looks long…and it is. Huff n puff, squirm, squirm, squirm all the way to the top. We’re on some chockstones (I believe the epic chockstones). We’re way above the canyon floor and I take a moment to tell everyone how “tight” this is, figuratively of course. We take our first break. It’s been about an hour and a half of goodness. I’m tired. This is hard work. We are stoked.
Back to it. Live it up; soak it in. Huff n’ puff, huff n’ puff. Gallluuumppp, gaaalllluuumppp.
And then, there it is. The first big silo. This aint a little baby gaper; this sucker is big and deep. We set up a belay off a fixed pin. Stem, stem, stem. Eric is over. Brendan goes next. Stem, stem…and then a new move I’d never seen before. I believe the technical term is, “chicken wing shoulder blade shuffle.” The proper technique involves going to the back and feet position, until it is uncomfortably wide. Then, one slouches down so the shoulder blades and toes are the only points of contact. Now, simply shuffle across with the shoulder blades. This move is best saved for big, exposed, silos. The more air the better.
After the silo there is a fun elevator. Then we hit it, the crux of the canyon.
We’re perched on some ledges with a twenty something foot crack above us. What a place to be!
We break out the big cams and the ropes. I plug a cam in the crack and step up. After a couple feet I realize this crack is hard. I plug in the big fatty cam. Squiiiiiiiiirm, armbar, armbar, knee jam, running man foot scrape. I’m up another inch. I slide the big fatty cam up. After another few seconds of armbars, hip scumming and scuffling feet, the big nylon jug hanging from the cam calls out, “Grab me, grab, me!” And I do. This is much better. Pull, pull. Hip scum knee bar, squirm. Yes! I’m up three more inches. I slide the cam up, and repeat. Ten or so feet later, the crack begins to widen. Oh no. my big nylon jug is about to go away. I wedge a knee, squirm, and get into a “reverse iron cross, elbow jam cross up pretzl twist” position...with a cam jamming my butt. I squirm, scrape and wriggle some more and eventually slot a hip in. The business is over. A few more feet and I’m up. I forgot to breathe. I think I’m going to puke. I hurt all over. This is so much “fun.” I’m stoked and living large.
Eric comes up next. I back up from the up climb and wedge myself the best I can and call out, “Okay, you’re on belay, but don’t fall.” Eric huffs n’ puffs up, grinning the whole way. He remembers to breathe. Brendan is next. We use Eric as a directional for the belay. Brendan works his way up the crack, elegantly using a tangled mess of cams. We set up Landon’s belay using Brendan as a redirect to Eric’s redirect from my belay. This set up is called the “jingus-cluster”. We bring Carlos up last. That bum was hauled up on the rope.
We’re through the crux and way stoked out. We resist the urge to give out a bunch of high fives. Instead, huff n’ puff, huff n’ puff. Gallluuumppp, gaaalllluuumppp. Back n’ feet back n’ feet. Squirm, squirm squirm.. Carlos was really hanging onto Landon. It was all good though.
We came to the next silo, err, silos. There was a crack just before the void that was calling for a big fat cam. We plug it and set a quick belay across the first silo.
Then head across the second, easier, silo with a comforting 50 foot void below our feet.
It’s a an elevator ride to the canyon floor. What a strange sensation. Walking with a bag on my back. We haven’t walked in about three hours. Landon drags Carlos through the subway section.
A little more stemming, few more gapers and one last elevator to the wash. That’s it, it’s done.
A few high fives and a couple chest bumps then it’s back to camp. Time for an early afternoon victory beer (or two). We’re stoked and living large.
-Matt Brejcha
All pictures by Landon Michaels and Carlos T. Ball
