I decided to continue on with Pneumonia even though it went against what felt inspiring. Seeing it would only be a two day section, I hoped the energy between us would shift. We took the route out of Escalante that went down Smokey Mountain Road and later veered off into Horse Mountain Road. It was super muddy after having rained, weighing our shoes down as it collected in clumps.
“I would love to see a snake on this trail,” I said, surprised I haven’t seen any. A few minutes later we saw a snake, flattened out on the road after having got run over. “Gotta be specific when you’re speaking to the Universe,” I joked.
At the last moment of a long road walk, the route took a sharp right turn completely off road and into the mud hills that we had to descend down. We made it into the wash and studied the map/topography some more. Someone mentioned that it would be easiest to follow the ridge line and traverse down the mud hills since the wash took a slightly different turn. So, we took this only one person’s advice and left the wash. We climbed back up a mud hill and tried to figure out how we were going to make it to the steepest part of the ridge. From where we were standing, it appeared vertical and sandy the last 60-70 feet. In some places it was just slabs of loose rock that gave way when we stepped on them.
Pneumonia suggested we take our packs off, then he would scurry up to the top while he lifted up our packs with the rope and carabiner. From there, I just had to tie the rope around myself and he would lift me up as I climbed. It worked out great!
When I reached the top, I said, “Wow, I barely had to put in effort walking up that! It felt like I was floating.”
He wrapped the rope around his elbow, completely out of breath. “Oh, I bet.”
We climbed up another mud hill then began walking the ridge line. It was so similar to that ridge walk in Durango where I had the panic attack, except in this situation if I were to roll off the hill I would severely injure myself or die. It was becoming a theme on the Hayduke—action-packed adventure with a sense of possible injury. It felt as if we were the only ones who had traversed that area, having spotted not even a glimpse of a trail or another footstep. I couldn’t believe how much I’ve grown over the years. The things that scared me to a panic attack before were now laughable in comparison to where I currently found myself.
“Is this what knife’s edge was like?” I asked.
“Ha, knife’s edge was nothing compared to this. This is a razor’s edge. All of the other knife’s edges have a trail that is at least 3’ wide. This is like walking on a fucking balance beam.”
We traversed through large towers of sand that appeared as those castles I made as a kid on the beach using wet sand and forming stringy clumps. Except these castles in front of us were magnified in size.
The sun was starting to pass over the canyons and we knew the cold darkness would be coming soon. We descended as much as we could to find a flat site before the light disappeared. We were quiet when we started setting up our tents.
Pneumonia broke the silence and said, “I should’ve known better when a triple crowner reached out saying she needed help with a thru-hike. Next time you invite me to come hike a trail with you I’m actually going to look it up.”
I laughed out loud. “I thought you did!”
“I did,” he said, “I looked up the picture of the route and it said ‘trail’! I didn’t really think I was going to need mountaineering experience. You didn’t say, ‘Hey come rock climbing.’”
Once again, it felt good to laugh about the trials we faced throughout the day. Having someone in the moments of feeling beat and helping each other find the humor in it made the challenge worth it.