A short pop quiz. Answers provided.

     1.  Where is Egypt?

p. Monique Beeley

Ans.  In Northern Africa bordering the Mediterranean Sea between Libya, the Gaza Strip and the Red Sea north of Sudan and including the Asian Sinai Peninsula.


     2.  How long is a football field? 

Ans.  Not counting the end zones, 100 yards.

  
     3.  What in hell is Egypt II?

Ans.  A spectacular slot canyon in the Grand Staircase Escalante National Monument.

 

p. Monique Beeley

We all check our packs for essential gear; water, lunch, harnesses, ‘biners, rappelling devices and, for Mo, the ever present cameras and lenses.  And the mandatory cooler with a frosty six-pack for the celebratory toast at the conclusion of the hike.  We pile into the Yellow Submarine (Excursion’s trademark Xterra) and head for Hole-in-the-Rock Road and Egypt II.
 

There’s also an Egypt I and an Egypt III, but Rick says II is his favorite.  Very few lucky canyoneers experience this one each year, Rick says less than a dozen.  We turn off the good gravel Hole-in-the-Rock Road and onto a bump-de-bump out to the “trailhead.”  Trailhead my ass! Rick backs the Yellow Sub five feet from a cliff, stops, sets the brake, “Here we are.  Harness up!”  With varying degrees of trepidation, we look out over the first drop.  A football field!  Yep, 300 feet!

The Yellow Sub’s the anchor, but before I tie in and rap, and even though we trust Rick with our lives (which we’re all about to do) I check to see that the Sub’s in park and the emergency brake is really, really set.  The rope is a full one-piece custom 600+ feet, half for the rappel, half for the top belay. Rick and Jim coordinate the toss in two sections, a few seconds apart.  Rick tells me that it’s most likely twisted or snagged, and I’ll have to deal with it, since I’m the first victim, er, rappeller.  And communication between rappeller and belayer at this drop differs from shorter raps –we’re on radios.  I’m to call him to “tension” if and when I get to the snag.

p. Monique Beeley

Jim is next.  Tentative but OK.   He’s on a slightly different line than I took, and alights on a narrow ledge about 100 feet up.  He’s hung up, and is obviously confused and concerned.  I yell up to him to trust his device and the top belay, let out some rope and get his butt down, feet against the wall.  Remember, this is his first time in a harness!

Soon, he gets it and drops to the bottom.  The ladies are next, Mo first to shoot back up, then Bobbie, then Ma Karen. They all tell me later that they had cottonmouth, big time.  What’s new? Me too.  We’ve all done several 100 to 120 foot drops before, but this is a football field!  Rick drops in, “How’d ya like it?”  Yeah, man!
 

The rest of the day is certainly not anti-climactic. Another great, albeit shorter rap followed by many, many tricky downclimbs through inches-wide walls, scrambling, chimneying, bridging, using all the necessary canyoneering techniques Rick has taught us over the years.  Unfortunately, Jim disregards Rick’s repeated directive to take one section with a seated bridge and tries to star bridge it like the rest of us did.  We’re more experienced with the move.  Jim’s feet get way too low, slips and falls hard into the bottom of the slot.  Rick had mandated that helmets stay on, thank God, or we might have had a serious problem.  Jim, wedged in the bottom of the slot with one leg awkwardly twisted, says he’s unhurt and wants to get up.  Rick will have none of it and tells him not to move.  He gets in front, I manage to squeeze in behind, and Rick, pro that he is, asks all the right questions, simultaneously performing a primary physical assessment.  “Any pain in your neck or back?”  Are you dizzy or nauseous?”  “Can you wiggle your hands and feet, fingers and toes?”  “Tell me about any pain.”  Jim replies that his shoulder hurts, but other than that, he’s OK.  Canyon walls are unforgiving, and Jim is bruised and bloody, but Rick decides that he can be moved.  Jim is a physically fit big man, probably 220, 225 or so.  I lift and push, Rick gently pulls and we manage to get him up, walk slowly to a wider spot and assess the damage.

p. Monique Beeley

Rick immobilizes the shoulder with a sling, cleans the superficial cuts and abrasions, and mildly but firmly chews a little ass for not following his instructions.  Jim nods, but is clearly embarrassed, ego obviously damaged.  Better that than the possible physical damage. We all commiserate that accidents do happen in the backcountry.  We’ve all been there, too, but it’s important to listen to your guide, the voice of experience.

Fortunately, all the entire incident cost us was a little pain for Jim and a bit of a delay for the rest of us.  We hiked out marveling at this beautiful landscape, returned to the start to be greeted by an excited Beau, pulled out the cooler and toasted to another great day of canyoneering.  Sure beats sofa-surfing watching football on TV!

Info-now!    XPLR