BODY & MIND
Queer in the Canyon
Photo Credit: Clark Harding
"Clark do you have the strength to climb down like that?" asked Evan.
"Whatever, I work out!" I replied. But with my hands shaking and my shoulders cramping, I decided to rethink my Lucy impersonation and go back up—except, as expected, I wasn't strong enough. "Well, now you're committed." Evan sighed, not knowing the word "committed" would make me fall. The conclusion I arrived on my own from that experience? Safety before fun: A mere ten feet can leave a bruise worth remembering.
The next day the three of us stared at the entrance of Pine Creek Canyon, without our facilitators of learning. Contrary to childhood programming, extreme sports without parental supervision is a daunting responsibility. Regarding our guide pamphlet, certain technical terms stuck out like "flashflood," "slippery ramp," and "unstable boulders." The class we had taken a day earlier was fun, but it was nothing like this. Huffing and puffing from the hike in, we timidly pulled on our dry suits, the tight rubber sealing off our bodies from the elements. Although it was eighty degrees in the sun, the water down below was surely freezing. But changes in vision change the whole perspective. Once you are dressed for the part, it becomes apparent how low-stress and joyous the act of canyoneering is. The rappels become comfortable, while swimming through complete darkness becomes familiar. What first seemed like impossible knots and important procedures couldn't compete with the scenery and company. Canyoneering is true teamwork, where abiding by safety rules and watching out for one another is all part of the experience. The athletic workout and stunning visuals give you a natural high. For first-timers there is a need to verbalize everything. "Good descent, dude!" and "Wow, you look amazing" is commonly heard. Sometimes the rocky acoustics jumbled our chatter, all of us talking at once but not understanding a word. "I never thought I'd be in a canyon with my boyfriend and his ex," Eliel eventually confessed as we moseyed through a sandy narrow.
"I know, right? We're such lesbians!" I laughed.
"What did you guys say?" Asked Japhy.
"Nothing!" We both giggled, already fast friends.
"Whatever, I work out!" I replied. But with my hands shaking and my shoulders cramping, I decided to rethink my Lucy impersonation and go back up—except, as expected, I wasn't strong enough. "Well, now you're committed." Evan sighed, not knowing the word "committed" would make me fall. The conclusion I arrived on my own from that experience? Safety before fun: A mere ten feet can leave a bruise worth remembering.
The next day the three of us stared at the entrance of Pine Creek Canyon, without our facilitators of learning. Contrary to childhood programming, extreme sports without parental supervision is a daunting responsibility. Regarding our guide pamphlet, certain technical terms stuck out like "flashflood," "slippery ramp," and "unstable boulders." The class we had taken a day earlier was fun, but it was nothing like this. Huffing and puffing from the hike in, we timidly pulled on our dry suits, the tight rubber sealing off our bodies from the elements. Although it was eighty degrees in the sun, the water down below was surely freezing. But changes in vision change the whole perspective. Once you are dressed for the part, it becomes apparent how low-stress and joyous the act of canyoneering is. The rappels become comfortable, while swimming through complete darkness becomes familiar. What first seemed like impossible knots and important procedures couldn't compete with the scenery and company. Canyoneering is true teamwork, where abiding by safety rules and watching out for one another is all part of the experience. The athletic workout and stunning visuals give you a natural high. For first-timers there is a need to verbalize everything. "Good descent, dude!" and "Wow, you look amazing" is commonly heard. Sometimes the rocky acoustics jumbled our chatter, all of us talking at once but not understanding a word. "I never thought I'd be in a canyon with my boyfriend and his ex," Eliel eventually confessed as we moseyed through a sandy narrow.
"I know, right? We're such lesbians!" I laughed.
"What did you guys say?" Asked Japhy.
"Nothing!" We both giggled, already fast friends.
