Moab, Day 5
We made it through four days without any major incidents, so on Day 5, we decided to tempt fate. More like, we decided to pull our pants down in front of fate and hang our big white asses in front of her, daring her to do something about it.
My husband was almost obsessive the whole trip about a certain obstacle called Hell’s Gate. Hell’s Gate is found on a trail called Hell’s Revenge. We tried to go on the trail the first day, but the rain had created an eight-foot pool at the entrance, making it impassable. I have to say, Fate had mercy on me that day, because if we had started with this trail, you wouldn’t have been able to drag me out of my hotel room for the remaining four days.
Hell’s Revenge has a back door, and we were lucky (cough) enough to hook up with some Jeepers who knew how to get in. Let me preface this story with a little tidbit; from what I’ve seen thus far, these cliff people are f-ing crazy. And if the crazy cliff people are calling something “Hell’s Revenge,” well, that’s a warning. And if you choose to ignore that warning, you should be prepared to have the holy shit scared out of you. Hell’s Revenge delivered.
The first major obstacle was optional. I exercised my American duty to voice my rights (”Let me out of this f-ing Jeep RIGHT NOW!”) to take pictures in case I needed them for my insurance case & my husband proceed to drive our Jeep up a six-story rock. The rock, infamous in the adventure circle, is know as the Escalator. Six stories high, composed of a series of ledges. After a little difficulty, a winch, a strap and some cussing, my husband arrived at the top of the rock unscathed. When he came down to pick me up, I saw something in his eyes I’ve only seen one other time…(when I told him we were having a baby girl)… FEAR.
Now, Chip is pretty unshakable. So to see this glint of fear in HIS eyes left me open to experience a full-blown panic attack. But we weren’t done yet.
The next obstacle, also optional, was Hell’s Gate. Hell’s Gate is only about four stories high, a naturally occuring “V” in the rocks with large steps. Google “Tracy’s roll Moab Utah” to watch video of a girl rolling three times downward on this very same obstacle. But our new Jeep buddies steered him up without incident, and we continued on our way.
As you turn corners in this amazing terrain, you never know what is waiting on the other side. The canyons are composed of all types of rock; a) smoothed, polished, HUGE sandstone rocks. These rocks reminded me of river pebbles, just on an enormously large scale. b.) Sharp ledges hanging precariously over yawning canyons. Until today, these were the rocks that would make me hold my breath. c) Slippery rock walls. These usually acted as a portal to the next level of altitude, and you had to climb these to move up to the next level. Kind of like a prehistoric Mario Brothers.
A good part of Hell’s Revenge is made up of the huge sandstone rocks, just monstrous round boulders next to one another. It was here that my heart & my mind had a discussion.
Heart: I really don’t like these rocks.
Mind: Yes, if we slip, it’s a good four stories down.
Heart: Yes, and it’s not soft. It’s certain death.
Mind: Well, not certain. You could be extremely mangled. At least on the ledges, I might catch a rock on the way down, or you might quit before we hit bottom. With this rock, we’ll just keep rolling. Maybe the roll cage will break free and end the pain.
Heart: Yes, I agree. I think we need abandon this situation for our own good.
And I proceeded to freak out.
The human body can only handle so much adreneline until it simply shuts down. And this was my breaking point. Something about those rocks, the inability to see the path (setting sun), and the constant feeling of the Jeep being off-camber made me say quietly to my husband: “No f-ing way. I’m done.”
He took it very well. Perhaps it was the hysteria in my voice, or the calmness in my eyes, but he knew I meant business. I would rather slide down that rock on my ass than spend another moment wondering if I was about to die. I have great faith in my husband’s driving, and I have great faith in his engineering abilities. It was not any doubt on the part of his skills.
I just felt that I had dangled the oppurtunity in front of Fate entirely too much the past five days, and I’m not a gambling kind of girl. I knew the odds would only be in my favor for so long, and in the great philisophical words of Kenny Rogers… I knew when to walk away, and knew when to run.