Fat Man's Misery and Parunuweap Canyon

Note: If you are a fat man and this title offends you, I apologize. I didn't name the canyon, and I assure it was also "Skinny Man's Misery" at times.

So I told Michelle the only thing I wanted for my birthday was to go do a canyon, and she was adventurous/naive enough to go along with it. I picked Fat Man's Misery, mostly because it  ends up in Parunuweap Canyon. I've been reading a lot about Zion National Park's history and wanted to see the canyon John Wesley Powell descended in 1870. As preparations continued and we decided to go just the two of us, Michelle's list of things to worry about grew. It ultimately included falling to our deaths, getting bitten by a rattlesnake, dying of dehydration, drowning in a "keeper" pothole - every scenario ending with our children wondering why we never came back and then being put up for adoption. She told me the night before she thought it was crazy and how had she ever agreed, etc., but I chalked that up to nerves.

And she did great. We took everything the canyon threw at us and chewed it up and spit it out - the miles and miles slogging through deep sand, the rappels (including using rocks buried in the sand for anchors), the spots that SHOULD have been rappels but didn't have any anchors, the killer bees (really), the quicksand, the bush-whacking up a cliff to get out of the canyon, and the endless hike back. Did we ever look at each other and wonder what the heck we got ourselves into? Maybe.

At the trailhead, Checkerboard Mesa.

Here the canyon starts to slot up.

The first rappel. Michelle was the first down all 6 rappels, and she also set most of them up.

 One of many downclimbing problems.

 Here you have to grab the webbing and swing around to a ledge. I secretly videoed Michelle in action.

My moment of glory. I lowered Michelle down this gaping precipice, then I jumped. It looks like only about 12 feet, but it was actually 112.

 One of a few swimming spots. The water was very cold and teeming with critters, including a dead rat.

 Close to the confluence with Parunuweap there were warm springs seeping out of the rocks.

Spectacular Parunuweap Canyon, carved by the East Fork of the Virgin River. Every bit as beautiful as the Narrows, without the crowds.

A plaque in Parunuweap Canyon commemorating John Wesley Powell's trip.

No pictures of the hike out; we were too exhausted to push the button.