It sure looked a lot less steep from far away. Once I got started, I realized that it wasn't going to be easy. And I didn't tell anyone where I was going.
At one point, I got stranded on the wrong side of a decent-sized slot crevice, and I was going to have to make a pretty terrifying leap of faith to get across. So I coached my testicles back out of my stomach, and I went for it. Of course, looking back at the photos, the crevice really wasn't that big. But at the time, it seemed enormous. I'm a little embarrassed to show you the photo.
Ok, fine.
This is me at the top. Don't let the face fool you, I was pretty ecstatic that I didn't kill myself.
The view from the top--as it almost always is--was worth the climb.
The top of the mesa was surprisingly green, for essentially being a huge pile of rocks. However, the rocks were soft enough that trees could actually burrow their roots in them (this also made the rocks pretty easy to crumble, which was part of why they were so scary to climb).
Of course, getting down after a hard climb is no picnic. But there weren't any hang-ups. Except for the horse that was staring me straight in the face when I got to the bottom. Apparently, I had accidentally descended right into a large horse corral. The horse, as most horses are, was plenty gentle, but I still don't trust them (see: here, here, and to an extent, here).
Now, it's time to cook some lunch, and get cracking on the school work.
Now, it's time to cook some lunch, and get cracking on the school work.
-M
