Writing - text written for class...

Black Canyon 1 source: private picture


This text was written for class, however, at the same time it is one of the adventures I had in the US. Therefore, I need to post it to this blog as well.



The Black Canyon Experience

What I’d like to tell you about is something that happened to me and a friend of mine in Colorado. Never having been to a canyon before, we were excited when approaching Black Canyon National Park on an unpaved, dusty road where we planned to stay for the night. Actually, our goal was to hike down to the bottom of the canyon and sleep near the Gunnison River on a backcountry campsite.
Being the only human souls around, we had to register ourselves at the closed ranger station on the north rim of the canyon. The irregular gusts of wind gave us a hard time filling out the necessary registration forms and orienting ourselves on the provided tourist map. Finally, we made our decision, we were going to hike along the Dead Horse Trail and at its viewpoint “find our way down the canyon” as it said on the notice board. Before leaving our car behind, though, a warning caught my attention: “Coyotes, Striped Whipsnakes and Black Bears live in this area; occasionally Mountain Lions might be seen. Be cautious and respect wildlife.”
Not far had we gone, when our trail seemed to divide in various directions. The map was not very clear on where to go; therefore we decided to move towards the rim which very soon turned out to be wrong. By then, some mule deer had overtaken us on our path and we realized that we actually were on their trail. All we could do was to approach the rim and walk along its border. The first sight of the canyon was unbelievable: the sheer walls combined with the startling depths and narrow opening of the canyon will always stay branded in my memory. On and on we went for what seemed like forever, and we both began to feel the heavy load of our backpacks. A tent, two gallons of water and food for two days are not easy to carry through bushes on rocky mule deer paths.
To cut a long story short, we did eventually get to the Dead Horse Viewpoint where we immediately decided to, what seemed to us an adequate trail, try to descend as fast as possible. Unfortunately, dusk was faster than us and the wall steeper than expected. Hence, we stopped on a small but more or less stable rock platform in the middle of the wall, heated some noodles on our cooker and tried to get some sleep.
It was long before dust when we were awakened by the sound of howling coyotes and the freezing night. So, with the first beams of light we began our hike back up strengthened only by a Powerbar and a sip of Gatorade.
Afterwards, friends told us that we had chosen the wrong path and were not supposed to “find our way down” the canyon on our own but that there actually was a real trail on the other side of the ranger station leading down to the Gunnison River. To this day, I’ve not reached the shore of the Gunnison River, but someday I will. Still, it was a rugged experience after all.