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| Hiking | 5.40 Miles |
790 AEG |
| | Hiking | 5.40 Miles | | | |
| 790 ft AEG | | | | |
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| no partners | | OK... I didn't do the loop. I didn't even make it to the falls, which was my original goal.
Maybe I should have filed this trip under "Distracted off-trail wandering along First Water Creek".
Working at the trailhead, I decided to go out and get a water report (a built-in excuse to go hiking, instead of whatever it is I was supposed to be doing). Dean stayed behind, as he was working on a project there, so I told him my plans and took off. (This was a big no-no, as "new policy" states that we are not allowed to hike alone in uniform.)
I started out with good intentions, hiking the Dutchman taking note of water conditions in the creek crossings (#1-moderate, #2-dry, #3,4,5,6-very good, #7-light). Wait.. what? #7 light?! This was my stop, where I get off the Dutchman and into the real fun. But, where was the whitewater from my imagination? I pictured the falls as being some wet rock with a puddle at the bottom. I knew that was hysterically pessimistic and completely wrong thinking, yet the seeds of doubt had been planted in my zero boredom tolerance brain.
As I was well aware that it would, the water level increased significantly as I hiked up the creek. This amused me enough to stay on track for a while, but when I reached the long stretch that is historically drier than other sections, my ADHD mind began to wander and subconsciously search for a diversion. I'm sure that patience here would have been rewarded further on, but 10 minutes of hiking dry rock was all it took for me to abandon my route and head up the nearest interesting peak... which lead to another... and so on.
My new goal was the highest peak in that vicinity, which appeared as though it might overlook the falls on the other side (I still remembered I was supposed to go there). It was fairly steep as I got near the top, which was a jumble of ginormous rocks and boulders. I was following game trails here and from the looks of them, large game. As I got closer, one of those slow-to-action red flags popped up in my brainscape with the words, "Could you be 'game'?" I was aware that there is a big cat in this area that is used to seeing people and hiking alone up to those high rocks suddenly seemed like a bad idea. The devil on my left insisted that this wouldn't be an issue, since I am generally full of bad ideas, which I somehow survive without gross bodily harm. Besides, I was literally 5 minutes from looking over the other side. Could you be game?! I already knew the answer. Making a rare appearance, my better judgment convinced me to turn back. Once that decision was made, the cat in "other people's" landscape mentally became the cat in mine. One minute I'm fearless, the next minute I'm in a controlled panic over an imagined threat. Amazing what your mind can do. (I should try to use mine more often so we can get to know each other better.)
Noticing the time, I took the most direct route back to the creek, which involved some pretty nasty bushwacking. Once I was in the dry creek, I moved pretty fast (realizing that it was getting close to my return time), but when I came to the water section, I slowed down for photos. Then unbelievably, I allowed myself to become distracted by some water running down the hill with cool rock features above and I headed right up in pursuit.
By the time I reached the turn on the Dutchman, I was nearly an hour past my presumed return time and still more than 30 minutes out. I hit the afterburners and made it back in 25 minutes. Just as I walked past the sign-in register, Dean was uncharacteristically silent as I saw the familiar green truck of my supervisor pulling in the lot. "Mark's here," I said, stating the obvious. Dean replied in a scolding tone, "Yeah, he was here for two hours while you were gone."
?! Uh-oh.
I smiled and waved, to which I received an unsmiling nod as he got out of the truck. Uh-oh.
"I see you made it out all right," he said a bit sternly, followed with uncomfortable silence all around. [Hiking alone - Strike 2] Hoping to keep it light, I said, "Of course! This is like my backyard." Why is he looking at me like that? He asks, "So, how was it out there?" (meaning the falls).
~ gulp ~ Incapable of lying, I promptly confess to all of the aforementioned activity. [Deviating (outrageously) from your stated plan - Strike 3... Game over. If you're wondering what happened to Strike 1, that was when he busted me on the exact same thing two weeks ago.]
The silence now is deafening. Better think fast.
Abruptly changing the subject, I said, "This is your lucky day! I've got something for you." I reached into my pack and pulled out a cookie (much like a rabbit out of a hat). I had brought two that I baked that morning - one to bribe Dean and one for myself, but I hadn't eaten mine. Mark is familiar with the cookie routine. Nevertheless, he is human, so it worked. However, I am not naive enough to think I'm off the hook, but at least I can escape without the lecture (for now).
So, the moral of this story is... never leave home without cookies.
OK, that's not it. I must have a learning disability because, all kidding aside, what I did went beyond stupid. I broke every hiking rule and a few Forest Service rules, too. Just because nothing bad happened doesn't make it any less stupid. (That was hard to say  )
Be smarter than me. Be safe out there.
Happy Trails!  |
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I'm at home in the wilderness... it's civilization I have problems with! ](https://hikearizona.com/dex2/images/smilies/eusa_wall.gif "Brick wall") |
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