Jo and I slept in, at least relative to Scout. We all breakfasted on powerbars and dried fruits and nuts. Left camp around 0800 to hike downriver to Mooney and Beaver Falls.
Mooney isn't actually very far, but when you take into account the trek down to the base, I'm told it's a mile from the camp site. From top to bottom, it's about a 200 foot drop, and it's named after a man who died trying the descent. The trail takes a series of swtichbacks that are carved into the rock. Again, I was so grateful for my poles. The next phase is prefaced by a warning sign that reads, "Descend at own risk. Exercise extreme caution! Do not pass beyond this point in inclement weather conditions." We then descended through two narrow and dark tunnels. The last leg of the "trail" involves scaling down the cliff by grappling with chains, metal stakes, footholds and two wooden ladders.
I reached the bottom with a large sigh of relief ... and a quick intake of breath when I took in the beauty of the spot. It was splendid. Part of the bottom pool had a shallow rocky bar that we waded across to get spectacular views of the falls. The spray from the falls was so powerful that I put my camera in the ziplock, eventhough it was rather inconvenient.
After a brief respite, we were on our way down to Beaver Falls, another 3 miles downriver. We crossed the river two times. I slipped on a muddy bank and drenched myself and my pack. Camera got slightly dampened. Jo took the battery out and put it away, and opened the camera up and put it to dry in a mesh pocket of Scout's pack, and we were on our way. We hiked through fields and fields of vines ... it was like being on a tropical island. Jo hacked at some of the overgrowth and some cacti that grew a little too close to the trail. My legs were constantly being whipped and brushed by the vegetation ... definitely pants would have been a good idea. I did have a rather close shave with a cactus. There weren't many long spikes embedded in my shorts, but there were numerous small ones that I couldn't quite get out, So, I spent the rest of the hike with one leg rolled up. Yes, I was lopsided, but I think it also prevented a lot of chafing, for which I was grateful.
We finally made it to the rope line. This rope is supposed to help one scramble up a 10 foot sheer face and continue hiking. Of course, Scout scrambled up in a matter of seconds. Jo took a bit longer. I, however, had a bad time of it. Again, being shorter, and having less upper body strength really worked against me. Tried multiple times. Even handed up my pack so that I'd have less to drag up. The last time I tried to clear the edge, I fell. Luckily, my hand didn't get caught in one of the loops, but I did bounce off the rock face, and landed in the water, At that point, I knew that I wasn't going to make it up the rope. I was going to wait for the guys, but Scout suggested that I might try swimming around until I met up with another part of the trail, and I decided to try that. It was actually fun to be on my own and try a bit of solo trailing. Besides which, the water was wonderfully refreshing!
After about 20 minutes. Scout appeared behind me. At first I thought that he had reached Beaver and backtracked to find me, but he'd actually felt bad about leaving me alone, so had directed Jo on the trail to take, made his way back to the rope, and jumped in and followed me. We hiked on and finally got to the top of Beaver Falls. Beautiful spot. Scout pointed out a spot where we could jump off into the pool below. I looked at it, and asked if he was crazy! There was no way that I could possibly get out to that point, much less stand, and much even less get enough friction to jump out enough to clear the rocks! I'm sure that Scout could have done it, and had no problem waiting for him, but I knew it wasn't something I was going to do. We ended up just swimming around a little in the shallow pools near the top, the decided to head back and meet Jo back at the rope. Then, I looked at Scout's pack, and asked if my camera was still in it ... and IT WAS! Whoops! Well, we took it out, and I opened it up to dry again. Luckily the water is fresh, and I know not to turn it on, like I did in Hawaii with Janet.
We hiked and swam out way back to the rope. I was doing okay, but that last lagoon was too much. I got two-thirds of the way before I had to get to the side and take a rest. It's no small feat to swim one-handed, much less keeping one hand above water to keep the camera dry! Scout had actually offered to swim up to Jo and get the dry-pack for me, but I'd thought I'd be okay. As it was, Jo swam out to me, and we worked together to get the bag open, camera inserted, and bag closed again.
We ate lunch and lazed by the lagoon. By this time, I'd catalogued my scrapes and bruises. Along with a beaut of a bruise on the back of my right thigh, and several impressive scrapes on my right leg, there was a pretty one on my left wrist ... where my watch came off when I fell off the rope into the water. I kept watching the lagoon whenever the bottom settled, but it wouldn't yield up my timepiece. As Scout said, we'd have to chalk it up as another offering to the Havasupai deities.
By this time, Jo and I were so sore! Did the granny walk for most of the way back. Finally made it back to the rope swing that Scout's so fond of. Both guys did it a few times, with me recording it on Jo's camera for posterity, before I felt like I could try it. Again, the upper body strength was lacking (must remember to work in lat pulls and pull ups!), and I flopped into the water. Maybe flopped isn't the right word. It was rather like doing the breakdance move called the worm. Anyway, my feet went in first, and the rest of me just rolled in after. The end result being that my tight athletic top ended up around my teeth, and I had to readjust before I swam back to shore. And Jo was wondering why I was floundering!
Made our tired way back to the base of Mooney Falls, and started the arduous task of climbing up. Scary and exhilirating!
What a relief to get back to camp and rest our tired bones. Sadly, Jo's blanket had been stolen ... along with his scriptures (which were on top), and his ipod (which was rolled up inside). I generally don't like to think of campers as being dishonest, but I guess it can happen anywhere. We all nursed our blisters (mine were on the medial surfaces of both big toes) and turned in.
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