Desert Wonderlandia

“I thought of the wilderness we had left behind us, open to sea and sky, joyous in its plenitude and simplicity, perfect yet vulnerable, unaware of what is coming, defended by nothing, guarded by no one.”
― Edward Abbey, Beyond the Wall: Essays from the Outside

One of the strangest things about returning from a deserrt trip is realizing that the desert is eternally continuing on its slow, thin, ancient way as if I was never there. A trip that to me will be remembered and recounted in increasingly beligerant and exaggerated ways as I age, no doubt, wasn't even a scrape in the sand to that big, vast desert memory.
We arrive at the Sundance Trailhead of Dark Canyon after sloshing and backtracking through red desert roads that have been completely soaked by the sheets of rain currently pouring on us and refilling the empty washes that cross the road. I only silently contemplated turning back from this highly anticipated hiking trip once, and that was while we were driving through a snowy Spanish Fork canyon. And... maybe once again when it was stlil raining as we neared the trailhead. But, adventure only begins when something goes wrong, right? So we continued.
The Dark Canyon is located at the northern most point of where the flooding of Glen Canyon ends. If we hiked down into Dark Canyon, and travled northwesterly, we would end up in a muddy mess that  would be the beginning of Lake Powell. If we travled the opposite direction through the canyon, we would end in Beef Basin, an area synonymous with some of the most amazing crack climbing in the world at Indian Creek. Some say that Dark Canyon is a good representation of what many of the 90 other canyons  once were before the flooding by Glen Canyon Dam.
Park truck. Unpack dogs. Repack snacks. Unback burrito supplies. Pack remixed burrito supplies in tummy. Put K9 pack on the lucky first carrier. Guzzle as much water as possible, and reload all water carrying devices since we aren't completely 100% positive there is water down there at the moment. Although, we are sure enough to take the descent. There aren't many ways to get into dark canyon since most of it is lined with incredibly sexy 1,000 foot plus sandstone cliffs. The area that we are dropping in is supposedly a 1,500 foot descent within about a mile. But, thats according to a guidebook, and what do they know...So, we didn't bring one. How lost can you get when you have nowhere you need to go? Our mission was exploratory. There are only so many times you can travel and truly have no idea what you may see around the next bend, or what will happen next, and I was excited to try that out for a bit. It's not like you can get lost in a giant CANYON anyway. I suppose I should remember the unfortunate people that have to call for search and rescue when getting lost hiking to the "Y".  I was willing to bet that we weren't quite that hiking inept.
Depart! My pack felt right at home on my back. Maybe because it was my new home, for a few short days at least. Before ever backpacking, I just could not understand the appeal. Many climbers like to boast that they "only hike to climb!" as in, "obviously the only reason to hike is to get to the wall I want to climb on\." Ok, I can sort of see a point to that. Climbing is totally amazing, and makes meandering aimlessly tripping over the rocks instead of climbing them seem sort of lame. Then I went backpacking. What a liberating feeling knowing that everything you need to not only survive but to thrive for a few days is all carried by your own two feet. It really makes you feel like you could go anywhere. Wearing a pack is technically something that will strap your body down, but golly gosh is it a life flight to be that self-sufficient and free from all the other silly things that are constantly telling you they absolutely positively must be in your life for your survival. False, you don't need a couch to sit on, a fridge to open, or a screen to look at, because those things obviously  don't fit in your pack.
After a few miles of feeling weightless (the very same few miles that on the way home in a few days would really be dragging at my feet) we arrive at a cliffish edge that we will apparently hike down. Looking over it is a blocky mess of sandy rocks and boulders that have been tumbling down for the last thousand years or so, no big deal. I can't really even see our destination, but I know it exists somehwere. It is always fun to see a challenge like that and be able to think, "I WILL be down there, at some point, after some time, doing some things, it will happen." There isn't any question as to wether I will do a thing of that sort, it is just a matter of when. If only I could get to the part where doing outdoor things magically raises my self efficacy so high that I see every problem in my life that way. Until then, I will continue with the outdoor shenanigans to boost my goal achieving ego.
The talus slope was gingerly  hiked down by following the elusive cairns that previous hikers had placed in what at times seemed to be a completely random pattern. With the pups and all we safely arrived at destination canyon floor, and we both agreed that it would be a real bitch to hike up that after four days in the desert.
The next three days was filled with exploratory missions toward what seemed to be ancient ruins, river crossings, pooch carrying, burrito cooking, star gazing, pack carrying, rushed night hiking, and overall joyous, skipping, playing, admiring, crispy, sandy, rocky days that I will forever hold as the gold standard of backpacking funness.

                                                   Henry Mountains. The next hiking destination. Fun Fact, the last mountain range to be named in the lower 48, and they chose the name "Henry"?

Over the edge of this is what we hiked down. Continued through the gorge.

                                       Pumping water from the river from an AWESOME device that Andy brought. Sorry I was skeptical at first :)

                                                           Super Pup.

                                    Notice the stripey rock. These pics are all from a dumb iPhone. Someday I will have a lovely camera!

                                                                 Layers.

                                                 Golden Cottonwood Fall Fun

                                                                     Paws.

One more highlight though. One night I left a most amazing campsite of sandstone overhanging alcove and wandered down to the river to get some water. It had been dark a few hours and I had been under a cliff type item and hadn't noticed the most intoxicating stars I have ever seen. The dark silhouette of square shaped cliffs lined the bottom of my view. Everything above it was a most literal web of stars. It was the first time that I understood why the Greeks drew so many lines and pictures between what looks on a constellation map to be maybe 5 random, boring, lifeless dots. The strings and shapes the stars were making was breathtaking and neckbreaking since I was standing staring for so long that Andy finally called out to me to make sure the skinwalkers hadn't got to me or something. That would be impossible because there were only good spirits in that canyon as far as I know. Anyway, I was admiring and thinking, If only everyone could experience beauty such as this, wouldn't the world have to be a better place? Aren't people only bad because they never understand how amazing the world is around them? Yes, I understand obviously that is a hairbrained idea and isn't true, but looking at that desert night sky I felt this pulsing that all people need this moment. It doesn't have to be these stars in this canyon, (God forbid that everyone go there all at once!) but if only everyone could have that moment where they see that the beauty is so propelling and encompassing that nothing else is really that big of a deal. Then I went furthur on this silly line of thinking and thought, "Ok, how am I going to get people to experience something as great as what I am experiencing? How do I get someone to that point where it is even possible? How can I get the whole world to see this? Well,  maybe the whole world is too big, must think of smaller group to influence. Maybe I should work at Aspiro again and try to get those kids to appreciate this big, old wilderness and then they will be happy!" Then I remember that one of the worst parts about that job was hearing 10 whiny voices complaining about all the things you love so much! Dirt, walking, sleeping, sun, finding water, animals etc. So, that option was out for trying to get others to be included in this wonderland. "Smaller group togreatly  influence and force to see things my way...I know! Have kids of my own!" Sarcasm, obviously, with a little dash of truth thrown in. Then I came to the conclusion that I found the reason that people have kids in the first place. Ok, maybe not why the majority of people, but that moment was honestly the closest I have ever been to seeing a reason for me personally to ever want to have kids. Simply to have someone to teach and show the magic and beauty that is so readily available to them. Then again, that is why I will never have kids, because it will be just my luck that they turn into nintendo junkies, ha!
After my brain had had enough point to jumpy point thinking, I went back to the warm fire and the alcove and announced to Andy that my brain had found the reason why the human race has kids. Yeah... sort of a weird conversation starter.
In the end, I highly reccomend a desert adventure for anyone out there who has ever needed a little boost of sandy fairy dust to jump start them on their next adventure.