The Suz’s account.

This project was hatched in my team mate Rodger Gray’s twisted mind many months ago. He invited several friends from SMSR to join him in running a famously infamous canyon called Imlay, the likes of which we will never experience in our own area. Imlay, which dumps into the Virgin River in Zion National Park, is an extremely technical and challenging canyon rated a 4B R IV using the American Canyoneering Association rating system. For information on ACA canyon ratings click here

Imlay isn’t a canyon for the faint of heart or inexperienced canyoneer. Rodger, Jon Pedder, and I (all SMSR members) have spent quite a bit of time in local LA Co. canyons in the last year, honing skills and gaining confidence. We all felt it was time to try something on a grander scale. Something a bit epic, even. Rodger, being a government employee, had plenty of time to do the research and so Imlay became the choice.

The plan was to drive up to Zion on Sunday and be at the Zion visitor’s center to pick up our permit and check the weather forecast, jog over to Zion Adventure Company to rent our wetsuits bright and early Monday morning, hop in the shuttle bus to the Kolob Plateau by nine AM and be hiking in to our drop in point at Potato Hollow off the West Rim trail by 10:30 AM.  Well, plans are just that – plans. Due to an unforeseen mine rescue in Sonora that robbed us of any sleep Saturday night, Jon and I were exhausted and running a bit behind with gear gathering and organizational issues, and we didn’t get out of LA until much later than originally planned on Sunday. Rodger, who hadn’t been a part of the underground rescue, volunteered to drive so Jon and I could catch a few winks, and we arrived in the wee hours feeling not nearly on top of our game. And did I mention that we completely forgot the one hour time zone difference in Utah? So we were late, tired, rushed and disorganized, with the result that the wetsuits that were tossed to us were a bit too big, some of our items were left behind in our vehicle (route description, some food, an FRS radio) - things that could have been so helpful had we taken them. We scrambled to get our gear into the shuttle and head to the start of the adventure. In the ideal world, when committing to something as challenging as Imlay, we would be rested, organized, relaxed and prepared. It was a pretty arduous two days although we did manage to have a lot of fun and laugh and tease each other almost as much as usual. But believe me; we were all really glad to complete our final 140 ft. rappel into the Virgin River at the end of day two, marking the exit of Imlay. Imlay demands that you go into survival mode once you make the commitment of that first rappel, and it’s never going to be an easy canyon descent.

We learned early on that Imlay will take and take and take and take, and will not give an inch. It is a gear eating monster. We lost a camera, both knives and almost lost a rope, destroyed another camera, a rope, radio, pack and clothing. The brand new neoprene gloves became shredded rags. The new aluminum rappel devices got deep wear grooves from sandstone abrasion. We were covered in bruises, lacerations and abrasions. I was stalked by a rather bold mountain lion. I swallowed fetid water that is making my gut churn even as I write. I wondered more than once what the hell I was doing in this canyon. I even kissed the ground after one long involved rappel and shivered as much with fear as cold as Jon and Rodger got the talon to stick into the sandstone to get us out of a keeper pothole. I put a small rock in my pack as a souvenir of Imlay, but by the last rappel, Imlay had reclaimed it. I summoned up all the prayers I knew as I waited for Rodger to safely land at the foot of a 390’ + multistage rappel, the last 140’ of which was on a ¼ inch bolt and an old piton, carrying the weight of his pack as well as Jon’s, too.

We wised up quickly to the fact that we had to be completely sharp at all times, for example we called for rope inventory after every problem, before moving on to the next to be sure we had every rope still with us. We kept this routine up for two days, so that rescue or death would be avoided. It would be so easy to accidentally drop a rope in the foul dark water or leave one behind and trap ourselves. We needed all our ropes: 1 x  200’, 2 x 100’, and a 200’ 6 mm pull cord. Most of what we carried in weight was technical gear. Food and clothing items were marginal, we didn’t bother with washing or brushing teeth, we were very lucky enough to have mild weather and really could have done without a tent, but slept so much better with Jon’s ultralight tent. Dry bags were essential to keep sleeping bags and other items from getting completely soaked, and we had canyon friendly packs that drained water rapidly and reduced the amount of energy expended in carrying them, picking them up and throwing them.

My greatest fear and the one that loomed largest in my imagination in the weeks prior to the trip was being trapped in a keeper pothole. The seasonal floodwaters have over many thousands of years worn big depressions like large deep vats in the sandstone canyon, which are partially filled with water that can be very cold depending on sun exposure. One of our goals was not to become Jon/Rodger/Susan soup in any of them. We swam through many many pools, some of which exuded a sulfurous stench and were completely opaque, many contained floating dead things and canyon debris. We used hooks called talons along with alpine aiders (nylon runners made into stairs) to climb out of the potholes, and partner assists where 6’4” Rodger stood on 6’1” Jon’s shoulders in chest deep water to climb over the lip of the pothole. Rodger could then and send a rope over down for us to batman up and then haul our water-logged, packs and rope bags. Jon and Rog did pack tosses to give us an anchor to climb out of some potholes.  All the while we were planning and looking ahead to see what might be around the next turn and what gear might be needed for the next problem. We were extremely careful not to move gear forward that may need to be held back in case we were going to have to get through multiple potholes from one anchor point.

This canyon is extremely demanding both mentally and physically, it really fries you as you’re at 100% vigilance all the time. Self care is of the utmost importance, this meant staying hydrated, limiting the amount of time submerged in water and moving as quickly and efficiently as possible. The first day we started the technical descent at 2 pm and didn’t stop until 10 pm, well after dark. The second day we got started moving a bit after 7am and didn’t get out of the technical canyon until almost dusk, and then had to wade two miles down the Virgin River to the shuttle pick-up. Bone numbing fatigue and physical pain dominated our thoughts on the way out down the river, and it wasn’t until the next morning, after the maximum dose of Ibuprofen and plenty of antibiotic ointment, that we started to smile about the ordeal, which overnight had somehow reverted to an adventure again.

Now I must say thank you to Rodger Gray and Jon Pedder for inviting this old woman. It is a fact that Rodger and Jon were the two best people for me to join in this adventure, and I wouldn’t have been comfortable doing it with anyone else. They are completely competent and cool under pressure, and pulled me out of messes multiple times, putting up with my screams and talking me out of my moments of terror, whether it be over an iffy single old piton anchor, a nasty overhang or a large dead bug/lizard/frog/worm floating in my face. Thanks, Jon and Rodger, for an excellent and safe adventure down Imlay Canyon. What’s next as far as Zion canyons go? Heaps Canyon?

Cheers! Suz.

Imlay – Jon’s account.

Susan has given the reason to run this canyon and shared some of our shortcomings including being tired due to a rescue the night before, time zone differences, gear loss etc. I must say that this canyon was FUN! Bloody challenging but lots of FUN too!

In our haste we forgot the route description, I think this was both bad and also somewhat good. Having a route guide is kind of like cheating, without it we were forced to run the canyon on it’s own terms. I think this kept us really focused and added to the excitement of the whole endeavor. We did drop in late in the day; this forced us to continue late into the evening, which we hadn’t anticipated.

Dropping into this monster canyon was exhilarating; from the first rappel it was clear that the trip through would be a challenge. The 120’ drop in took us into what we thought was a narrow canyon, in hindsight this was a wide section, narrow means not being able to wear you pack and squeezing through the canyon, often in deep nasty water.

All of us were mentally on alert from day one; we traveled through many rappels, maybe 40 or more. There were so many short down climbs to negotiate, stemming, chimneys, and partner assists; too many to count. I‘ll describe one problem that stands out in particular in my mind, as my anxiety level was super high and adrenaline was coursing through my veins.

We came to a large drop off; I tied into a tree anchor to look over the edge. I could hardly see the bottom, quote “Guys, we don’t have enough rope!” I looked around and spotted a previously used anchor, a tree high to canyon left. Without my pack I headed up with a100’ rope to see if I could make sense of our rappel. After going down a few feet I spotted the next anchor about 50’ down, another tree. Carrying a 200’ rope I headed to the second tree and tied the 200’ rope into the existing rap ring with a ‘binner block. From what I could see it was still a damn long way down. I came across a bolt anchor about 80’ down but they were a little sketchy. A ¼” bolt with a loose hanger plate and a piton with new-ish webbing. I really wasn’t impressed with this setup and chose to continue past this anchor to see what was below. Another 50’ down and I could see the bottom; problem was that the 200’ rope was at least 50’ off the ground.  I jumared back to the bolt/piton anchor to re-inspect it; it was really our only choice as there was no way back up the canyon. I clipped into the anchor and had Susan disconnect the 200’ rope so I could attach it to the bolts. I also asked for the 100’ rope to be attached to the tree anchor, so I could tie it into the shelf of webbing at the bolts. This was so I could test my load on the bolts and if they did give out the 100’er would catch my fall. Hesitantly, I headed over the edge, and in a few seconds I looked down and to my great relief I saw that the 200’ rope was now on the deck...woohoo!!! The whole evolution took well over and hour and I was greatly relieved to touch down. Now I had to watch nervously as Susan and Rodger followed. Rodger had the task of sequentially disconnecting the ropes at each of the three rap stations as well as bringing my pack down…remember I had descended sans pack. As Rodger came down the last pitch my stomach was in knots, you have no idea how relieved I was to have both Susan and Rodger safely next to me on terra ferma.

This was one of many technical and difficult situations we faced in the canyon, others include pothole escapes, choked debris filled pools, technical rappels etc…

Our camp that night was super, Susan spotted a ledge about 30’ above the canyon bottom, this was important because in event of a flash flood we’d be hopefully above the water level. Flash flood can and do occur extremely quickly, often with little or no warming. As Rodger climbed the 4th class rock to the ledge, there in Susan’s headlight was a mountain lion. We figure he must have been watching us from above when Rodgers presence scarred him off.  I setup the tent while Susan and Rog pumped water in the canyon. By the time they had 5 liters of water I had camp ready. We ate at about 11pm and settled in for a solid nights rest.

Day two contained the most technical sections of Imlay; extreme narrows 1 and extreme narrows 2. Entering the first narrows we encountered rappel after rappel and pothole after pothole. It was so time consuming to travel just 100 yards. We stopped for lunch and relaxed for 30 minutes or so before entering the second narrows. By this time we were pretty tired and quite honestly just wanted to see the end of Imlay. We had yet another a tough little rappel, Rog went first then Susan, I prepared to head down last. I then heard Rog shout, “this is it, this is it,” and I didn’t want to be let down so just concentrated on the rappel at hand. Once below I saw why he was so excited, there below us lay the Virgin River, a tantalizing 160’ foot rappel away. We had done it! We stopped for some food and water before finishing the last rap, this was a big drop with over 120’ of free rappel, airy and a little scary. One by one we dropped down to the Virgin River, what an experience. It’ll take a while for all the happened to truly sink in, so much in so little time.

This sort of experience, much like mountaineering, brings you so close to your partners. You’re counting on them for your life as they are counting on you for theirs. The level of confidence you have in your friends after a trip like this will carry over to the many other adventures, rescues and searches we have together in the future. I trusted, and still do trust Rodger and Susan with my life, we’re closer friends as a result.

What an adventure, what friends, what fun!

Jon

Rodgers sentiments.

Imlay is a beautiful canyon that was so unique compared to any canyon we have previously descended. I think that while Imlay is technically demanding, the psychological commitment was what we underestimated. You have to be mentally sharp the entire time start to finish in this canyon…and as we well know this is very draining (both physically and mentally) for extended periods of time.

We all leaned on each other at various times to get through both technical and psychological challenges. I echo Jon and Susan’s sentiments regarding choice of trip participants, I would not have wanted to descend this canyon with anyone else; we have spent so much time together functioning as a team, both SAR and personal trips, that I know I can depend upon either one of you to get me out of a jam when I need it.

I think that trust in each other’s ability and judgment gets us through these "adventures" safely. Looking back on the trip, the anxiety, nervousness, and even fear (ya I admit, there were a few times when I was just shit scared) are fading from memory. Trips like this that push you to your limits build bonds between people that otherwise could never form. It was an awesome experience; it is a great feeling to push yourself so far and come out on top.

The real things that we wish we could share from these trips can only be shared by those that were there to experience it. Imlay may be no big deal for some people, but I am not an advanced mountaineer/canyoneer/what-ever-oneer, so for me it was one of the most challenging trips that I have undertaken and it definitely left a lasting impression on me. Thanks to both of you for going, as we well know these sorts of trips cannot be done solo (at least for normal people).