Oh, we like to wander - and how come this site is called wilderness vagabond. And, we honor a great writer Kurt Vonnegut, who knew how to wander:
     "Oh, she says well, you're not a poor man. You know, why don't you go online and buy a hundred envelopes and put them in the closet? And so I pretend not to hear her. And go out to get an envelope because I'm going to have a hell of a good time in the process of buying one envelope. I meet a lot of people, And, see some great looking babes. And a fire engine goes by. And I give them the thumbs up. And, and ask a woman what kind of dog that is. And, I don't know. The moral of the story is, is we're here on Earth to fart around. And, of course, the computers will do us out of that. And, what the computer people don't realize, or they don't care is we're dancing animals. You know, we love to move around. And, we're not supposed to dance at all anymore."
     Kurt Vonnegut on telling his wife he's going out to buy an envelope. Funny Times, June 2007

     Day1: Windy Way – drive to South Canyon TH. The brisk breeze blows lettuce out of Cheryl’s bowl and sends it over the Kaibab Limestone ledge into South Canyon. Gone. We’re (Cheryl S., Craig M., Kathleen, and I) huddled in a limestone sinkhole, staying partially out of the zephyr. Black beans and blueberry pound cake, yum. It’s cold enough to drive us early into the shelter, which is flapping furiously.

     Day 2: Slog and flog to the River. 6.5 miles, 2900’ elevation change and terrible topography and terrain = 21 ERM (energy required miles). I’m resting on a driftwood log alongside the jade green Colorado savoring salad, mashed potatoes, pot roast and steak, and cheesecake, courtesy of the Canyoneers rafting group. Early sunset has arrived in this slice of redwall-lined canyon and my complaining legs are re-living the day’s flogging. A slog. Perhaps a flog. No guide description properly illuminates the boulder fest of South Canyon.
     We started off with the steep and dramatic drop from the rim, cork-screwing tightly over drops and scree. After two slow hours, we’re in the bottom and the rock-hopping begins. Tedious. We encounter two youngsters who have been surveying plants in the canyon and they report a river party every four days at the beach, and water seeping through the Supai layer. Two pouroffs to pass, billions of boulders to traverse, and we are at Bedrock Canyon, entering from the left LDC. Up on a bypass, it’s almost trail-like. Refreshing. Back in the drainage, there’s a bit of a route, and then up, left, onto an almost trail edged into the gray Redwall Limestone. It takes us to where we hear, then see the River, and eventually climb down to River level. The Canyoneers were late in arriving and yet were setting up when we hit the main beach. Glimpses of Vasey’s Paradise distract me. An invite to dinner – rejoice! Life is good.

     The narrative continues below this photo bank, followed by a link to more photos!

Craig views S Canyon (Click the image for a full-size view)	First view of the beach (Click the image for a full-size view)	Canyoneers slip toward Vasey's (Click the image for a full-size view)
Sunrise butte (Click the image for a full-size view)	K enjoys Vasey's Paradise (Click the image for a full-size view)	Ruin and Petros (Click the image for a full-size view)
Petro Man (Click the image for a full-size view)	Petro overview (Click the image for a full-size view)	Ruin overview (Click the image for a full-size view)
Stanton's Cave (Click the image for a full-size view)	Craig in Stanton's Cave (Click the image for a full-size view)	Back on top - S Canyon (Click the image for a full-size view)

     Day 3: Exploratory Lounging: Vasey’s Paradise and Stanton’s Cave, Marble Meager Arch and ruins and petros. We’re carefully crossing the polished limestone which slopes wildly into the frigid, frenetic Colorado. Almost to the delightful springs and cascades of Vasey’s Paradise we tip-toe. Dotted with Monkey Flowers and poison ivy it’s a land of contrasts. Beautiful water, deluxe day. Back at Stanton’s Cave, we try for photos, the cavern walls framing the River and the sheer backdrop across the way. After eating the meal planned for last night for lunch, we explor to the Meager Arch and find more petros on the boulder along the route in. Enjoying the end of a River bath, a boater walks in and asks about camping here. Cheryl offers to share the big beach, but he says “we’re middle-aged and the only thing that will work is for you to move,” to which Cheryl replies “we’re middle-aged too and pretty much positioned.” Off he pouts, a man who has voted twice for bushco and cheney, to set up his “b” flag on the “tiny spit of sand” as he called it.
     The River rolls on, whispering to all that hear “impeach cheney first, for the environment, for life.” (Parenthetically, early the next morning, while walking the Redwall sidewalk above the upriver beach, we see that it’s an Oars trip from whence the arrogant, callous pouter had come). We are surprised, because our cumulative experience with Oars had been good overall.
     Later that evening, a private party from Idaho and Oregon headed by Joel comes in and is very receptive and appreciative of sharing. Then, they offer beer and BBQ salmon. Yahoo. Nevertheless, we decline all but the beer because we had already dined on Cheryl’s pad thai with veggies and lime. Yum. Lounging by the River of desert life, amidst the white sand splendor, a golden glow warms the Kaibab Limestone topping the layer cake of geologic frolic, covering billions of years in a vertical sweep of the eye. Stunning. Or, a period less than 6,000 years if you are a zeaolot. Thoughtless.
     My sewing machine legs have mellowed somewhat, allowing better sleep as the River lullabies echo off the limestone.

     Day 4: Grinder: Out to the rim. We’re in the shade of the Kaibab Limestone, grinding out the last of the rough vertical, sometimes scrambling on all fours. Tired. Exhausted. Although easier than the trip down, it is a trail-less wonder of rock-hopping, pour-off passing, and boulder bridging. Several long and many short breaks ease the gauntlet, yet we fail to understand how this can be done as a day trip. A warm shower, followed by matar paneer with brown rice and potato soup and pound cake and olive tapenade with chips and we are ready for the first stars and the song of the song dog. Coyote Caruso.
     Before we left our deluxe camp at the Colorado beach, I find a button bunching up between my toes from the alabaster sand. On it was embossed “faded glory.” Perhaps this is a message?

We continued on to a series of day hikes, including Double-barrel Arch, Cobra Arch, and South Coyote Buttes - click here to see the photos.

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