Susan Billingsley - Grand Canyon River Guides

pothole, trying to decide whether I need to drink more,or less. I head up the other side and towards the nextdestination in the string: Matkatamiba.Feeling worse, moving slower. Again, finally, I reachthe saddle overlooking Matkat, in dwindling light. Theview makes me reel. It’s too much, too big, too powerful.Mount Sinyala absorbs the rays of the brilliant Arizonaorange-red sunset, cleaving the light in two andthrowing shadows into the depths below. I lay downright there, the rock a house sized flat slab of sandstoneleft by some ancient sea, a perfect backrest of smoothboulder at hand. I’m too tired and ill to sleep, so read onpage 20Jeffe’s route along the Sinyala Fault.well into the shortest night of the year by head lamp,finishing as the stars begin to fade.I also finish the last of my water.I pack up in the growing light, leaving A Farewell ToArms under the boulder. I need to drop unneededweight. This is crazy. It’s only day four and trouble ismanifest. It’s too quick for trouble. I’m too alone fortrouble.It comes, anyway.I continue down along the fault towards the floor ofMatkatamiba. It’s a usual stop for rafting parties down atthe mouth. Unfortunately, the mouth is several milesand over a thousand vertical feet down to the uppervalley floor, and then several more untracked miles anda couple more thousand feet over crazy terrain pavedwith house sized boulders to where boaters would be. Iknow there’s a trip due down there tomorrow, with mygirlfriend Kendall guiding and her folks riding along. Ihiked the lower part of the canyon from the river up tothe fault years ago, and know it goes. If I can just makethe bottom, I can simply head downhill and downcanyonuntil I hit the river, and await help. I can hitch aride to the mouth of Havasu with them, or any riverparty, really. Overnight on the river with good nutritionand perhaps a doctor. If I recover, I can hike out highlyvisited Havasu to the rim. If not, I can veg out on theraft and get a free ride out to the trucks at the take-out:Diamond Creek, a few days downstream. Under control.An impassible cliff shocks me out of my reverie. Thefault hasn’t broken a route through here. A little morescared now. I begin to sweat early this day—not becauseof the heat. I re-check my maps. Carelessly, I hadn’tclosely inspected the fault lines drawn on the map. Thefault line changes to a dashedline here, meaning it goesunderground for a distance. Acuriosity, perhaps, to a geologist,but to me, pregnant withmeaning. No surface fault; nobroken up ground. No brokenup ground; no route throughthe Redwall. I’ve alreadydescended nearly a thousandfeet to get to this layer, and forthe whole way I was surroundedby sheer barriers on either side.No way out but back, and up,the thousand feet. I look back,shake my head, and begin thebacktrack. Choices are singular.By the time I reach lastnight’s camp, its hot. Reallyhot. I haven’t had a drink ofwater for hours, and haven’tseen any sign of a spring. I’mtrying to focus on the maps,make a decision while I still have the sense to make aright one. Maybe. I scan the terrain, looking for a sign.Nothing concrete. Finally, I decide to head up towardsthe head of the main canyon. It seems like the contourlines on the map are far enough apart in fits and starts toallow me access to Matkat’s bottomlands in that direction.Trouble is, the canyon is long. Very. About fivemiles extra, up and down steep scree, gaining and losinghundreds of feet at a time, no marked water holes. Itseems my best option. Trouble is that I haven’t been thatfar up canyon from the mouth, and don’t know if thereare any barriers along the way once I hit the bottom.Once down there, I surely won’t have the strength toclimb the couple thousand feet back out if I get cliffedout again. No choice. No turning back. Thus I move outin that direction, keeping an eye out for water sign.In the Arizona deserts, just like any desert, if oneknows the signs, one can find water, even in the driestmonths. This desert is not a Sahara moonscape. It hasplants scattered about amongst the sand and rock. Eachindividual plant takes just enough space for itself togrand canyon river guides