Chapter 3 01／Eternal Geological Misstep Moment

This is the most beautiful place on earth. There are many places like this.Every man, every woman, carries in mind images of ideal places, famous or not: the real or dreamed human homecoming emotion knows no bounds.Theologians, aviators, and astronauts even felt the magic that called them home far away above us, in the cold, dark outskirts of the stars. For me, I would choose Moab, Utah.I don't mean the town itself, of course, but the area that surrounds it, namely the canyon land, the boulder desert, the red earth, the flaming rock walls and the lonely sky, all at the far end of the road.

The desert hermit, Edward.Edward Abbey * Airplane smoke remains in the sky, against the blue sky and the red desert plateau, I wonder how many times this badland has seen this scorching weather since its formation. It was Saturday morning, April 26, 2003, and I was alone on my mountain bike on a dirt track in the southeastern corner of Emory County in central eastern Utah.An hour ago, I parked my van in the parking area at the entrance of Horseshoe Canyon, an isolated geographic window of Canyon National Park, twenty-four kilometers northwest of the famous Maze Area and southeast of the Sandstone Ridge of the San Rafael Hills. About 60 kilometers, 30 kilometers west of Green River, 64 kilometers south of Interstate 70, there are some shops on this road, and the next service station will have to wait more than 170 kilometers away.

The empty mesa stretches for nearly 160 kilometers, between the snow-covered Henry Mountains (the last mountain range in the United States to be named, developed and labeled) in the southwest and the La Salle Mountains in the east, with strong gusts of wind blowing up from the south. Come, while I'm heading south.I use the lowest gear and step forward hard on the road with no slope; in addition to slowing down my speed to walk slowly, the wind also blows the maroon sand all over the ground onto the rough road.I try to avoid the sand, but occasionally the sand will cover the entire road and blow my bike down.There were three times when I was on a particularly long stretch of soft sand, I even had to use the lead to move forward.

The whole trip would have been a lot easier if I hadn't carried a heavy backpack.I don't usually cycle with 11kg of supplies and gear, but this trip was a forty-eight kilometer cycle canyoning tour through the bottom of a narrow canyon that took almost a day.In addition to the three liters of water stored in the insulated hydration bladder and the one-liter jug, the backpack's plastic pantry bag contained five chocolate bars, two tacos, and a chocolate trifle.I'm bound to be hungry before heading back to the van stop, but these should be enough for the day. ① Water bag: especially a water bottle that can be drunk without hands. The drinker can directly drink water through a water pipe connected to the water bottle.Allen uses a hydration bag made by Camelbak, a company that makes hydration containers and backpacks for outdoor sports.

The real weight comes from the full set of descending gear: three pairs of locking shackles②, two pairs of shackles; Centimeter wide webbing ④, webbing chain with ten loops attached ⑤; my rock climbing harness, 60 meters long and 1.5 cm thick power climbing rope ⑥; 3 cm tubular webbing over 7 meters long and the multitool pliers, which I rarely use, contain two pocketknife blades and a set of pliers for cutting webbing and making anchor points in case the need arises.Also in the backpack are headlights, headphones, CD turntable, a few Fisch Orchestra CDs, long-lasting AA batteries, a digital camera and a mini video camera with batteries and a case.

② Carabiner: Carabiner (also abbreviated as biner), a metal carabiner with a switchable opening for rock climbers to hook on fixed points, ropes, slings, or belays/descenders.For better security, the opening of some carabiners can be locked. ③ Ensure and descender: belay/rappel device, a tool that can change the friction to control the speed of the rope, used to tie or vertically drop another climber. ④ Flat belt: webbing, a flat or tubular webbing made of fabric woven in a high-strength way when establishing a mountaineering fixed point. ⑤ Sling chain: daisy chain, a continuous rope loop, tied with a knot every twelve centimeters along the length, and woven into a load-bearing sling loop.Typically, on an exposed descent anchor, the climber will attach one end of a rope to his climbing harness, use a shackle to fasten the joint of the rope, and attach it to a firm anchor to prevent the Falling during edge action.

⑥Climbing rope: climbing rope, a specially designed rope with a rope core in the middle and nylon skin on the outside. , the static rope is not stretchable. ⑦Fixed point: anchor, which fixes the rope on the mountain wall in various ways, including putting mobile or permanent climbing gear into the gap; knotting the rope and wrapping it around the thick trunk in a net-like manner , large rocks, or stone wedges; or drive screws into rocks. ⑧ Fish Orchestra: Phish, an American rock band, they are famous for their extended live improvisation, trying different types of music and having loyal fans.

The equipment has been added one by one, but I think all are necessary, even the camera equipment.I love photographing the majestic colors and shapes that spiral up narrow canyons, and the prehistoric art preserved in the coves.This tour will take me past four archaeological sites in Horseshoe Canyon that contain hundreds of petroglyphs and pictographs.The U.S. Congress specifically included this isolated canyon into neighboring Canyonlands National Park, just to preserve 5,000-year-old touch drawings and paintings.It is located at the bottom of Horseshoe Canyon, along the barrier creek, silently recording the lives of ancient people.

There are dozens of two-to-three-meter-tall supermen on the large mural, arranged in a trapezoidal shape, hovering in front of groups of unknown animals, looking down at the beasts, and the onlookers also have long, black bodies and broad shoulders and intensely felt eyes. This mass of gorgeous imagery is the oldest and best example of design in the world, so outstanding that anthropologists have named these heavy and somewhat sinister styles the Barrier Creek style.Although there are no written records to help us explain the meaning of these artists' creations, it can be seen that some people look like hunters with long spears and clubs. Most of them have no legs or hands, but they have horns, like devils in nightmares. floating.

Whatever their hidden meanings, these enigmatic portraits have been noted for their ability to demonstrate self-awareness for thousands of years, and because the painted slabs have survived long enough to outlast the oldest golden artifacts of Western civilization. , while shocking modern observers.This begs the question: What will be left of today's ostensibly advanced society five thousand years from now?Probably not our work of art, nor any evidence of documented substantial leisure time. (What could be a worse reason than wasting our precious time in front of the TV?) I expected to be wet and muddy in the canyon, so I put on a pair of broken joggers and thick wool-blend socks.As a result of the insulation, my pedaling feet were sweating, and I wore lycra cycling shorts under the beige nylon shorts, so my legs were sweaty under the compression.I even added two layers of thick bolsters, but the bike seat still kept hitting my butt.I was wearing my favorite Fish T-shirt on top, a blue baseball cap, and the waterproof jacket was left in the van, which should be very warm and dry during the day just like yesterday.Yesterday I also cycled about 20 kilometers on the slippery rock bike track east of Moab.If it does rain, I can hide in the crevice of the canyon, so the jacket is unnecessary.

Traveling light is very comfortable, and I've been thinking about how to play more times with light, so that I can go further places in a certain amount of time.Yesterday I just took a small water bag, some bicycle repair tools and a camera, and spent four hours cycling lightly.In the evening, I put down my bicycle and hiked to the natural arch in the valley of the castle. With only a little water and a camera, I walked eight kilometers back and forth.The day before yesterday, Thursday, I was with my friend Brad from Aspen.Together with Yule, we climbed the 3,900-meter-high Sopress Mountain, the main peak in western Colorado, and skied there. under kilograms. The five-day road trip will culminate on Sunday night, when I'll attempt a 173-kilometer solo mountain bike ride through Canyonlands National Park's white rim trails.In this project, I hope to carry only simple equipment and complete the trip within 24 hours.That means sticking to a precise water plan, making the most of the few opportunities to refill; no sleep, only short breaks.My biggest concern isn't that my legs will get tired, I know it will but I know how to handle it, my only concern is that my hips will be too sensitive to ride.Crotch numbness, I've heard the term used, is the result of constant overstimulation of the perineum.I haven't ridden long distances since last summer, and my seat cushion tolerance is pathetic.Had this trip been expected two days earlier, at least I would have done a long bike tour in the Aspen area beforehand. But what happened is what happened. Some friends and I canceled the mountaineering plan at the last minute on Wednesday, and then we had more time to go on a desert trip, a warm pilgrimage, and let me see the beautiful mountains and rivers again. Landscapes, not just icy mountains. Normally I would leave a detailed schedule for my roommates, but after leaving home in Aspen, I wasn't really sure what to do next other than my destination was Utah.As I drove from Thorpress Mountain to Utah on Thursday night, I did a little research on my possible travel options in a guidebook.The verdict: a random, impromptu trip, with a possible overnight stop at a camping party area near Goblin Hollow. It was nearly ten-thirty in the morning when I rode into the shade of a lonely juniper tree and looked around at the sun-baked surroundings.The rolling scrub desert gradually quiets down into colorful vaults, hidden crags, weathered cliffs, steep, curved canyons, and broken boulders.This is an ominous place, the seat of voodoo.This is the place of the desert hermit Abby, and the red wasteland is far away at the end of the road.Because I arrived after nightfall last night, I didn't enjoy much scenery before arriving at the trailhead. Sweeping my eyes to the east, aiming at my destination in the canyon, I picked up the chocolate sponge cake I bought at Moab Bakery and tried to swallow it, my mouth and the cake were both sore from being exposed to the dry and strong wind for too long. Dry.Thanks to the hard work of the owner in order to make a living in the desert that is not conducive to life, you can see the scene of the cattle walking: they trample on the winding mountain road, dotted with 30 cm high cactus and black moss crust on the ribbon-shaped grass On the empty red land covered, it shows the original vitality.I took a few sips from the hose of the water bag tied to my shoulder, and except for the crumbs on the wrapping paper, I flushed the rest of the sponge cake down my stomach with water. Then I was back on the road, racing fast in the lee of the ridgeline ahead, but at the top of the next hill I was suddenly caught in a strong wind again.After 20 minutes of doing piston-like movements with my legs on this road blast furnace, I saw a group of motorcycle riders passing by. They were going to the labyrinth area of ​​the Canyonlands. The dust raised by the wheels sprayed directly on my face. Stuffed my nose, eyes and tear ducts, even stuck to my teeth.Frowning at the grit clinging to my lips, I licked my teeth clean and kept going, wondering where those motorcyclists were going. I've only been in the labyrinth once, for about half an hour, and that was almost ten years ago.At that time, the rapids canyon rafting group formed by my good friends and I stopped at the shore in the afternoon and camped on a beach called Spanish Depression along the Colorado River. I walked up 300 meters on foot and came to the edge of the cliff. , enter a place called a doll's house.When I climbed around the sandstone and granite like a person in Lilliputian, what stood before me were ominous formations of fifteen to thirty meters high.Finally, when I turned back to look at the river, I stopped abruptly, and then I sat down on the nearest big rock with a view.The characteristics of the desert and the process of its formation made me stop for the first time, concentrating on how small and how brave we humans are. Looking down at the boats in the Spanish depression, a fast-flowing river was churning violently, and suddenly I realized that in its russet waters, even at this very moment, it was still carving the sixteen hundred Every canyon in the square kilometer desert platform.Looking out from the dollhouse, I had no idea that what I saw was a scene that was still being born, as if I were standing on the edge of a huge erupting crater.The scenery gave me a feeling of the beginning of time, the most primitive period before the emergence of living things, when there was only barren land.It's like looking at the Milky Way through a telescope and wondering if we are the only ones in this vast universe.It made me understand how precious and fragile life is compared to the dazzling clarity of the light in the desert, and how small we are when compared with the power of nature and the size of the universe. Had my companions boarded the two rubber boats 1.6 kilometers away, I would have been cut off from the world, alone after fifteen to thirty days of trekking upstream back to Moab Ling died of starvation and was never seen again.Yet, despite the solitude of the surrounding desert, it was a happy thought to strip the illusion of self-importance.We are not great because we are at the top of the food chain, or because we can change the living environment. After all, the environment will outlive us by its unfathomable power and indomitable ability.But we are also not restrained and defeated by our own insignificance, but fearless, despite our ephemerality and fragility in this desert, this planet, this universe, we exert our willpower anyway.I sat for another ten minutes, and then returned to camp with my bravado, my vision as wide as the scene before me. I rode on the road, past the metal culvert bridge that marks the dry source of the West Fork in Blue-Eyed John Canyon, through a marked intersection where one of the dirt roads branched off to the town of Hanksville, a town a few miles away About an hour's drive west is the entrance to Capitol Reef National Park.Hanksville is the closest settlement to the Robber's Coop and Maze area, as well as the closest wired public telephone in the area.Nearly a kilometer further forward, I passed a sloping grassland, and I felt that if there were no small accidents that forced anyone who flew here to turn around to find a tenable ground, then this side It's like a temporary airstrip.This also shows why, usually, the only efficient means of transportation here from point A to point B are small planes and helicopters.Sometimes, even if you can fly, it doesn't make economic sense to leave A to B and end up staying home. The Mormons tried their best to use the slope of the road to cut across this part of the place, but at last they withdrew to the Green River and the developed town of Moab.Most of the roads traveled by Mormons in the past are deserted today, replaced by small roads that are still barely passable. Ironically, cars pass these roads less frequently than horses or carriages passed a hundred years ago. .Last night I drove more than 90 kilometers on the only dirt road in the eastern half of these two counties, and finally arrived at the entrance. After two and a half hours of bumpy driving, I didn't see any traffic signs or houses on the way.Pioneer farm owners, horse thieves, uranium miners and oil drillers, every kind of people have planted their flags on this land. The area had to be abandoned, and over time waves of ancient inhabitants moved to the valley floor of the area and disappeared without a trace.Usually it is because of a severe drought, or the invasion of a hostile ethnic group in a high mountain area, or because the southern part of the desert seems to be more suitable for human habitation.But sometimes there is no good reason why a whole culture suddenly retreats from a particular area. Five thousand years ago, the people of Barrier Creek left petroglyphs and pictographs in the large mural area and the alcove mural area, and then disappeared.Because there is no written record, their departure is still a mystery, leaving much room for imagination.Looking at their paintings, and standing among their homes, gardens, and ruins, I can feel a connection to the Aboriginal pioneers who lived in these canyons long ago. As I rode desperately to the open platform, the strong wind kept sweeping my face, and I found myself looking forward to the terminus after crossing Horseshoe Canyon, ending my trip there, and I couldn't wait to break free This annoying strong wind. From the vantage point of a bicycle, the area looks just like it did in the days of Blue-Eyed John.The Bureau of Land Management listed the century-old carriageway as an evaluation and added some sporadic signs, but the ubiquitous fence that isolated other parts of the west was obviously not visible.Perhaps it is because of the absence of the barbed wire fence that the area feels vast.I have spent a lot of time going to places that are inaccessible, two or three times a week in places marked as wilderness, even all winter, but most of them are not as desolate as this mountain road. When I think about it, suddenly my loneliness becomes lonely, and somehow it clings even more tightly to me.While the towns in this area were once famously bustling with robber chicken coops, the tone of the entire desert remains the same. After passing through the Burr Pass for two kilometers, the difficult journey against the wind at a speed of nearly 50 kilometers per hour finally came to an end.I stopped, led the bike to a juniper tree, and locked the rear wheel with a U-lock.Actually, I'm not worried that someone here will deliberately damage my mount, but as my father said: there is no reason to provoke honest people to do bad things. I put the key to the U-lock into my left pocket and started walking towards my goal, Blue-Eyed John Canyon.I took a shortcut taken by wild deer, and finally I could hear my favorite songs on the CD, because the strong wind no longer bothered my ears.After walking through the weathered red sandstone dunes, we came to a small gravel canyon before we found the entrance to the original canyon.Great, on the right track, I thought.At this time, I noticed two people walking down the canyon more than 20 meters away.I hopped down the dune to a shallower depression, and on the other side of the dune I caught a glimpse of the two hikers, from this distance two girls. How is it such a coincidence?Surprised to see people passing by in such a remote part of the desert, I thought.I walked for three hours with my head buried, and perhaps trying to shake off the loneliness I felt along the way, I stopped, took off my headphones, and sped off to catch up with them.They were walking so fast that I might not be able to catch them without trotting, and it took me a minute to close the distance between them.I had expected to be alone at the main fork in Blue-Eyed John Canyon, but meeting people with the same hobby in this remote place added extra fun, especially if they were not slow.I can hardly avoid them at this moment anyway.Finally, at a bend, I finally caught up with them. I guess we'll be walking together for a while and should initiate a chat with them.Hey guys, I'll start first.is everything okay?I wasn't sure if they were willing to be open and honest with a stranger in the middle of nowhere, and sure enough they just responded flatly: Hi. In order to draw their attention even more, I tried again.I didn't expect to meet anyone in this canyon today. Even on Saturday, this place is really remote and hidden. Even though the map in my hand clearly shows the current situation of the canyon, I still have deep doubts that this is the passage from the robber's chicken coop. Yes, the way you sneaked over scared us.The brunette replied, but then laughed again. Oh sorry, I'm listening to music on my headphones and I'm a little lost in my own head, I explained.Smile back and continue introducing yourself: My name is Alan. They were visibly relieved and also exchanged names.The one I spoke to was Megan, who had darker hair and complexion, and the other, who was more outgoing, was named Kristi.Meghan's shoulder-length hair curled around her hazel eyes and rosy cheeks.She was wearing a zip-up long-sleeved shirt, blue sweatpants, and a blue backpack, and I guess she likes blue.Christie's blond hair was pulled back in a ponytail, revealing her freckles on her forehead and her dark gray-blue eyes.In addition to her plain short-sleeved T-shirt, blue shorts, and long leggings, I noticed something else about Kristi: small silver hoop earrings, dark sun The glasses have tortoise-like frames and snakeskin-patterned straps.Wearing earrings in the canyons is unusual, but I'm not one to dress up, so I'll omit references to fashion.These two girls were about twenty-five or sixteen years old, and I learned that they were from Moab.I quickly memorized their names and made a note of which was which so I wouldn't make a mistake later. Megan didn't seem to mind me adding to the conversation.She said they drove past the entrance to Barn Springs and lost their way in the desert for an hour before finding the beginning of the canyon.I said that I think it is easier to find the way by bicycle than by car, because the scenery along the way passes slowly. Oh my God, if we had been riding our bikes, we would have been blown dry before we even got there, Megan's banter breaking each other's embarrassment. The canyon is still a shallow wadis, a dry sand valley between two nine-meter dunes.Before the terrain gets too complicated, it's easy to get to know each other and chat about life in the remote resort communities of Moab and Aspen.They, like me, both work for outdoor recreation companies, and as logistics managers for a company called the Outreach Educational Foundation, they always deliver expedition gear from the supply warehouse in Moab.I told them I was a clerk in Aspen for an outdoor equipment store called Ude Mountaineering. Among the voluntary poor taxpayers in our township, there is an unwritten perception that it is better to be poor but have rich life experience and experience dreams than to be rich but without enthusiasm.The proletariat of the Alpine region harbored an attitude towards life that considered it shameful to pay for the experience of resort life, preferring to be a penniless local rather than a well-to-do tourist.But the locals depend on tourists for their survival, so the implied elitism doesn't really do it justice.The three of us understand that the like-mindedness we have for each other at this moment comes from standing on the same front. We feel the same way about our environment.We all support Edward the Desert Hermit.Abby, he was a pugnacious conservationist; an anti-development, anti-tourism, anti-mining critic; and a beer-loving eco-activist.He loved wilderness, and women, especially wilderness women, but there were so few of them, that we considered him a saint of environmentalism.Thinking of his eccentric rhetoric, I think he likes to polarize things.I recall him saying this in an essay: Of course, we are all hypocrites.The only real action an environmentalist can take is to shoot himself.One more person is one more pollution.This is his paraphrase, but what he said is very practical. It's kind of morbid.Megan replied, pretending to feel deeply guilty for not shooting herself. Let's continue talking about Edward.Abby, and then found out that everyone had climbed through the crevice-shaped canyon.When Kristi asked me which crevice canyon was my favorite, I didn't hesitate to name my experience at Neon Canyon, an unofficially named tributary of the Escalante River in south-central Utah.I used the five-stage descent method and the very dangerous Guardian Pot Hole (it is a deep, steep, and smooth depression at the bottom of the canyon. If you don’t have a companion to help you first, you may be trapped there all the time. ) and the Golden Cathedral to put it poetically. The five-stage descent method is a very peculiar method of descent. You need to pass through a gravel culvert at the top of the mountain depression, which is about the size of the statue of St. Peter ⑨. At this time, you will be suspended in the air about 18 meters away from the mountain wall. , until it landed in the center of a large pool, and then swam to the shore. ⑨St. Peter: Saint Peter's, 1-64 BC.One of the twelve disciples of Jesus, he was the first disciple chosen by Jesus. It is a rare landscape, you must go, I made a conclusion. And Christie told me that her favorite rocky canyon is on the gravel road opposite the granary springs trailhead, at the fork above the drain of the robber chicken coop, which is called a magical place by her company colleagues.She said that when you pass through the rock cracks in the canyon, you will find a passage sandwiched between the rock walls, about 4.3 meters above the ground. This V-shaped gap is only a few centimeters wide when it reaches the foot. The place is narrower. I add this scenic spot to the list of plans in my heart. Before noon, we reached a steep and slippery slope below the rock, which meant we had reached the first crevasse, the point that drew us to Blue-Eyed John Canyon.I slid down nearly five meters to the bottom of the rock with my hands first, then slid down with the heels of my sneakers, leaving two black marks on the pink sandstone, and then fell in the sand at the bottom of the stone wall.Christie, who came to this corner, just heard the sound of falling, saw me squatting in the sand and thought I had injured myself.oh my god are you alrightshe asked. oh i'm fine.I do this on purpose.That fall was really intentional. I met her gaze, and the kind look in her eyes showed that although she believed me, she thought I was so stupid that she didn't find an easier way to go down.I looked around and realized that there was a less steep passage to avoid this slope, and I felt a little stupid at the moment. Five minutes later, we reached the first difficult downhill climb, which was a steep one, and it was best to turn ourselves inwards and face the wall, the opposite of climbing up.I went down first, then turned my backpack around and took out the VCR to record Meghan and Kristi.Kristi took a four-meter-long red sling from her red backpack and threaded it into a metal carabiner left on the rock by a previous climber of the canyon, where another loop of sling was attached , around the rock, which is set tightly in the depression behind the edge of the cliff, enough to support the weight of a man. Descending from the edge of the cliff face down, Megan had to try to get around a rock hanging between the rock walls. It was a large boulder stuck between the rock walls of the canyon, blocking the easier route. .After Megan came down, Christie also timidly followed, because she didn't fully trust the rope loops. After she came down, I climbed up to retrieve Christie's sling. We walked nine meters and came to another cliff.The distance between the stone walls was even narrower, only five to seven centimeters wide.Meghan dropped her backpack while Kristi snapped a few photos before dangling down between these rocky walls.I watched Megan come down and helped her point out the best grips and footholds.When Megan reached the bottom of the fault, she found that her backpack was soaked. It turned out that when the backpack was thrown on the rocks, the nozzle on the water storage equipment pipe came loose, and the water inside leaked into the sand.She quickly found the blue plastic nozzle to prevent the water from flowing out, otherwise she would have to go back to the mountain entrance to get water.While a wet backpack wasn't a big deal, she lost precious water.I was the last to go down, and the backpack on my back and the delicate camera cost me a little time in a few tight places.Twisting my body through these small rocks, I also had to push my body through the gap between the rock walls and down the steeply sloping canyon floor.There was a log stuck in the gap, which I took as a ladder on a smooth section, where only a very thin person could descend. While the rocks are getting hotter and hotter, the air below the canyon is getting cooler and cooler, because we have entered a canyon that is more than 360 meters long, and the stone walls are 60 meters high, and the distance between the walls is only half a dozen. to five meters wide.The sun never reaches the bottom of the crevice.We picked up some crow feathers, stuck them in our hats, and stopped for a while to take pictures. After walking 800 meters, as the rock wall opened up more and more, the sky I saw gradually expanded, and the cliffs below the canyon felt farther and farther away.Once back in the sun, we stopped to share two chocolate bars I had brought.Kristi took some for Megan and she said no, Kristi said: "I really can't eat this whole bar of chocolate but it's ok, well, I'll eat it."We all laughed together. When we reached the last important tributary on the left of the main fork, that is, the West Fork, we also came to the fork. The West Fork is the route that Christie and Megan will take, and they must turn back to the main road six kilometers away.We said goodbye to each other reluctantly, and Christy simply suggested: Come on, Ellen, come with us, let's drive your truck together, play together, and drink beer together. I was determined to complete the schedule, so the reverse: how about this?You guys have harnesses and I have ropes, so you and I go down to the crevasses and we do the big fault descent.We can go out together to see the Grand Canyon and I'll drive you back to where you parked your car. how far?Megan asked. About thirteen kilometers away, I think. What?You can't get out before dark!All right, come with us. I really want to do the descent and see the petroglyphs.But I can meet you at the entrance to Barn Springs when I'm done. They agreed, so we sat down and looked at the map again, confirming our current location on the Blue-Eyed John map in the canyon guide book.We all use this book to find remote rock crevices.I have Michael.Kelsey's latest version of "Colorado Area Canyon Hiking Guide" introduces more than one hundred canyons, each of which has his hand-drawn maps, all drawn based on his personal experience in each canyon. Dedicated maps and descriptions of routes are works of art.The book covers complex crevasse intersections, points out hard-to-find petroglyphs and art sites, necessary descent gear, anchor points, and deep-water culverts, and provides enough information to allow you to find your desired route, or find yourself , none of which is superfluous.We put away the map and stood up, and Christie said: "The pictures in the book make those murals look like ghosts, which is creepy.What do you think you can sense on the big mural? Well, I pause and think about her question.I have no idea.When I saw the petroglyphs before, I felt a deep sense of connection. It felt good. I am very happy to see it again. Megan reconfirmed: Are you sure you don't want to come with us?I still stand by my choice, just as they stand by theirs. Before the final departure, we reconfirmed the rendezvous plan.Some friends of mine from Aspen are going to have a Scooby-doo rally this evening, eighty kilometers from here, just north of Goblin Hollow State Park, and we agreed to meet there.Most groups use paper plates as makeshift signposts to the rendezvous point, and my friend has a large Scooby-doo doggie to indicate where to turn off.After I wrap up my day's adventure, which includes 24 kilometers of mountain biking and canyoneering, I'll be craving a cold beer and soon be with these two lovely friends I met in the desert. The girl goodbye is also very happy.We also agreed to do another short hike in Little Mustang Canyon, which is a less technical rock crevice area in Goblin Valley, and we plan to start tomorrow morning.I broke up with my new friends at two o'clock in the afternoon, and waved goodbye with a smile. ⑯⑩ Scooby-doo: Scooby is the name of the cartoon dog doll, and the book refers to a party where young people play. Recovering as a person again, I walked down the canyon and continued my journey.Think through the rest of my itinerary along the way.既然已經確定星期日要去小野馬健行，我預測那天傍晚七點會回到莫亞布，所以剛好有足夠時間準備要去峽谷地國家公園的白色輪框車道要用的器具、食物和水，並在凌晨出發前小睡一下。靠著頭燈和星光引路，騎了白色輪框車道的前四十八公里後，我應該可以在星期一下午完成這七十三公里的行程，剛好準時赴星期一晚上我和室友計畫的家庭聚會。 一個不小心，我的腳因踩到一堆之前洪水所沉積下來的石堆上而絆了一跤，急忙伸出手臂來保持平衡。突然間，全部的注意力又回到藍眼約翰峽谷。 烏鴉羽毛仍然插在我藍色球帽後面的綁帶上，我可以在沙堆上看到它的影子，看起來傻裡傻氣的，我在開敞的峽谷上停下來，給自己頭頂羽毛的影子拍一張照片。我一邊走一邊解開背包的腰帶和胸帶，把背包轉到胸前，手伸進背包外的網帶裡，按下我的隨身CD唱盤。聽眾的呼喊聲慢慢被吉他輕快節奏的序曲取代，然後唱出了柔美的歌詞： ∮ 它是什麼樣子我從來沒看過／海浪把她的話帶給我 我正在聽三個月前，也就是二月十五日在拉斯維加斯聽的費希樂團演唱會的下半場。浸淫在音樂裡一下子之後，我微笑著，對這世界充滿愉悅：這是我的快樂地。偉大的音樂、孤寂、荒原、放空的心。一個人健行時的精神充沛，跟著自己步伐前進，釐清了我的思緒。一種無事掛心頭的快樂，不是因為某件特定的事而快樂，只是因為自己快樂而快樂，那是我會走這麼遠來到這裡的原因之一，可以集中一些時間在自己身上。整合身心讓自己年輕起來。有時當我想內化心境時，會用獨自健行來當成我超越自我的方法，像是一種行走的冥想。靜坐冥想，嗡字出聲的模式無法讓我有這種感受，只有在我一個人行走時才能達到這個境界。 不幸的，每回一感到這種時刻時，感覺就消退，思緒又回來了，自我超越瞬間蒸發。我努力想再去尋回那全然喜悅的片刻感受，但對那感覺的批判卻取代了感受本身。不過即便感受無常易逝，但伴隨在這片刻而來的通體舒暢，卻令我得以振奮好幾個鐘頭，甚或好幾天。 下午兩點十五分，陽光和薄雲十分調和，白天的氣候也很穩定。在峽谷的空曠地區，氣溫大約比石縫的底部高個攝氏一度。有一些雲層排列得如失速的快艇，但無蔭。我到了一個寬大的黃色乾河道，入口在右邊，查看一下地圖，我看到這是東岔口。克莉絲蒂和梅根絕對選對了岔口回去。這個選擇好像再明顯不過，但即使是明顯的決定，在這荒郊野外也需要再三確認。在很深的峽谷裡巡航可能變成迷惑的複雜。偶爾，我會忍不住被牽引去想裡頭什麼都沒有啦，繼續直直走下去就好。前面有九十公尺高的石壁阻著我，而兩邊的石壁只隔一公尺半，在峽谷底部我不可能會迷路，在山腰上錯過了路線倒是會的。 我想起在派瑞爾峽谷那次，一個人走六十幾公里的單獨旅行。走進峽谷約三分之一處有一塊狹長地，當時我完全不知自己身處何處。我沿著河道往下游走了大約八公里後，才看到一個路標，清楚指出我在地圖上的位置。這很重要，因為我必須在天黑之前找到退出的途徑。當你正在找入口或出口時，有時候光是偏離路線四十公尺，可能就找不到道路了，所以現在我很專注在研究地圖上。在峽谷中時我會比在山區更常查看地圖，或許每兩百公尺就查一次。 ∮ 如果可以看到許多波浪／穿過雲層和凹洞／至少感受到尋找她的訊息／在風上在水下。 這首歌融入一些無調的甜美，但我沒怎麼注意，就這樣超過了右邊另一處窪地。地圖裡，乾河道似乎吻合凱爾喜在指南書上所命名的小東岔口，從他標示的山羊公園的高臺切進來。 山羊公園隆起的階地和搖動著杜松樹的高地就在我的右邊，位於有一億七千萬年歷史的卡麥爾岩層上，陡斜的頂石中有著一層層紫色、紅色和褐色的沙泥岩、石灰岩和頁岩層沉積物。頂石比較能抵抗侵蝕，而不耐侵蝕的風堆積的內華達砂石層，形成風景秀麗石縫峽谷中的紅色平滑峭壁。在很多地方，這種差別性的侵蝕會形成一根根或塔狀、或圓錐狀的獨立石柱，還有點綴其上的彩石沙丘，一直延伸到峽谷的峭壁。 這種卡麥爾和內華達岩層將大自然各種質地、顏色和形狀並列一起，反映出形成時的分裂極化景觀，也就是早期侏儸紀時期的海和晚期三疊紀時期的沙漠。由大海形成的卡麥爾岩層的堆積物，看起來像是上個月才乾掉的硬泥巴，另一方面，在內華達砂岩交叉層狀的圖樣，則顯示出古時候是由沙丘變成的：在峭壁裡近五公尺高的河床上，出現了斜切到右邊的鑲線；下一個河床的岩層立刻斜切到左邊；在這上面，一層又一層的地層，以平行狀完美呈現。經過萬古歲月洗禮，在凌駕一切的強風吹過缺乏植被，可稱為古時撒哈拉式沙漠的侵襲下，沙丘不斷變換形狀。這些遺留下來的砂岩形狀，會依風或水的侵蝕，而分別出現像是被刀砍過似的圓頂沙丘或磨光的峭壁。正是這所有的美景，讓我臉上始終微笑不斷。 我預估距離近二十公尺高做大斷層下降的石縫區還剩八百公尺遠。這個約一百八十公尺長的石縫，是我下到藍眼約翰和馬蹄鐵峽谷的中繼站。從我停腳踏車的地方過來約十一公里，到我的卡車停放處有十二公里遠。一旦我到達了石縫區，將會有一些短程的下攀段，得巧妙的上上下下一連串的岩石，然後是經過長約一百一十公尺的窄石縫，有一些只有四十公分寬，到一處平臺後，用兩組螺栓和掛鉤，就可當作垂降的固定點。 典型的垂降螺栓有七公分長，直徑約一公分的擴大螺栓被釘在手鑽孔或無線鑽孔上面，用來固定一個折成Ｌ型的金屬圓盤，我們稱為安全掛鉤。這些掛鉤有兩個孔，一個與斷面齊平，釘在石壁上，用來支撐螺栓，另一個是在折角的邊緣，用來扣住鉤環、有鎖鉤環的鏈環，或穿入扁帶。當螺栓被固定在堅固的岩石上時，可以毫無疑問的載重好幾百公斤，但是在石縫峽谷裡，因為水災頻繁，螺栓柄附近的岩石常常會破損。若同時使用兩組螺栓和掛鉤則較可靠，以防其中一組意外壞掉。 我有自己要用來下降的登山繩、安全帶、確保器和扁帶，也有頭燈可以在把手伸進裂縫前，先探查是否有蛇。我已經預先想好在下降之後要健行，特別是在大壁畫區裡。凱爾喜稱它為科羅拉多高原上最棒的象形圖板，說是壁壘溪風格，沒有其他風格可與之比擬，在兩天前開往猶他州的路上看到它的相關資訊時，就激起了我的興趣。 ∮ 陽光照著我的頭髮／在鄉村的水池裡／站著揮手／坡道上的雨和風 我又被另一首歌給迷住了，幾乎沒有注意到峽谷的石壁已靠近，這是石縫區的始點，石縫的上部比較像是一些自家倉庫間的後巷，而不像摩天大樓。一首吉它即興讚美曲在我昂首闊步前進時陪伴著我，我不斷在空中揮舞著右拳。然後我到達了峽谷底部的第一個斷層，一個乾枯的瀑布。這峽谷中若有水，就會成為瀑布。砂石中有一層較硬的岩層證明了更耐得住洪水的侵蝕，這暗色的礫岩形成了斷層的邊緣。從我站的岩石一直往峽谷底部大約延伸了三公尺。峽谷下六公尺的地方，有一根S型的原木卡在石壁之間。如果我可以到達那裡，它就可以當成我下降時的通道，但是若要從我右邊既淺又陡的礫岩石架靠近，似乎是困難一點，倒不如從我前面的壁緣下切到三公尺下的底部還容易一點。 我利用左手邊一些不錯的手抓點，讓自己下降到懸岩，抓住砂岩的溝槽，那是水滴在石牆上，慢慢侵蝕而成的凹洞，就像是水甕的把手一樣。盡可能的伸展身體後，我的腿距離地面僅約六十到九十公分。我放開手，跳下乾涸的瀑布，落在沙石窪地上，因受山壁邊緣水滴不斷的侵蝕，此處比周遭地面還要深。乾泥巴經我雙腳一落，頓時像石膏般裂開粉碎，我的鞋尖陷在粉狀的碎片上。這要處理不難，但我不能直接從下面爬到上面的斷層，我要堅持我的路線，不會走回頭路。 當我走過S型原木的下面時，耳機裡又響起一首新歌，峽谷更深了，離我頭上的沙丘上緣約九公尺。 ∮ 我害怕我沒有對你說過鬼故事／我曾經向別人說過／講的一點都不誇張 灰白的天空在地面上三公尺寬的裂縫上仍可得見。在我的路線三十公尺遠外，卡有兩顆廂型車大小的巨石，一顆離峽谷底部沙地只有三十公分；另一顆則座落在走道上，我依次擠過這兩個障礙。峽谷縮成一點二公尺寬，石壁起伏曲折，把我一下子帶往左，一下子帶往右，一下子又筆直前進，然後再往左，再往右，一路愈走愈深。 驚人的洪水作用已經在砂岩岩壁上，掏空出一顆顆像沙灘球大小的凹洞，也把原木卡在頭上九公尺高的石縫間。在雷雨交加時候，峽谷石縫是你最不該去的地方。在峽谷上方可能天氣晴朗，但在十五或三十公里外的分水嶺突然下的一陣豪雨，可能會讓粗心的峽谷玩家受傷和溺水。洪水來時，雨量總快過地面所能吸收的水量。在美國東部，地表要花幾天或幾週才會達到飽和，雨要下好幾公釐或好幾公分，河水才會氾濫。但在沙漠地區，被太陽烤乾的大地像被燒過的黏土瓦一樣，只要兩百公釐的雨量，而且可能只是來自一場五分鐘的暴雨，就能造成水災。追逐著這些不能透水的貧瘠之地，大雨卻只是造成了洶湧而至的洪水，會合起來的排水變成徑流，一下子就在十二公尺寬的峽谷地區，造成三十公分的淹水，同樣的水量會在狹小的空間變成嚴重的急流，當石壁縮到只有一公尺寬時，洪水便會漲成三公尺高，挾帶著泥土和碎石，移動了大巨石，沖刷了峽谷，所有的漂流物都被壓縮在一起，使人無法爬到安全地方的任何生物，只有死路一條。 在狹窄的峽谷曲徑，最近的洪水所帶來的殘留泥沙堆積在石壁上，又往上堆高了快四公尺，數十年的沖刷在岩石的表層留下紅色和紫色的條紋。起伏的山壁也讓筆直的頁岩線條扭曲變形，有一處兩邊石壁的線條呈鋸齒狀彼此交錯而下，吸引了我的注意力。我停下來拍了一些照片，我注意到相機上的時間比我的手錶慢一分鐘。數位相機上的時間是二〇〇三年四月二十六日，星期六下午兩點四十一分。 我邊隨著音樂上下擺動我的頭，邊走了十八公尺，來到了一連三顆卡在石縫的巨石前，爬過去後，又看見五顆巨石，大小都像大型冰箱一樣。看見這許多巨石平擺的卡在石壁上，實在罕見。第一顆懸掛巨石下僅有六十公分空隙，我必須肚子貼地，從底下爬過去。生平第一次在峽谷裡，得趴這麼低來爬行，不過別無選擇。下一個巨石卡在離地表稍高一點的地方，我得以起身，拍拍自己身上的泥土，然後蹲下來，俯身穿了過去。就這樣四肢著地的一路爬行，再加上兩次的蹲下躬身，終於通過了其他巨石。到了這裡，在狹道中已超過十八公尺深，而在沙丘下六十公尺的直線距離中，也已下降了十五公尺了。 我來到另一處斷層。這一個大約有三或四公尺高，比十分鐘前我下降的懸岩還高三十公分，而且地質也不同。另一個冰箱大的巨石卡在岩牆之間，往下流處三公尺遠，和我站的岩石一樣高。這斷層下的空間給人一種像是隧道密室恐懼症一樣的感覺。不像其他的峽谷，在斷層後就愈來愈寬，或在谷底會有寬敞的盆地，此處的石縫峽谷會沿著斷層壁緣持續緊縮到僅餘九十公分寬，而且就保持這樣的寬度，一路十五公尺的下到谷底。有時遇到像這樣的窄道，我會頂著自己身體穿越石縫，靠著雙腳和後背一前一後頂著岩壁推進。藉著雙手雙腳在對面岩壁上交換使用來操控反壓力，我可以在只有肩膀寬的裂縫輕鬆地移上移下，只要我的雙手雙腳、背和岩壁間的摩擦面一直很穩固就可以了。這種技巧稱為大字式爬法或煙囪爬法，你可以想像在煙囪內使用的這種攀爬技巧。 在我站的巨石下面有一顆如大型公車輪胎大小般的巨石，在岩壁間的通道內卡得緊緊的，距離斷層邊緣有好幾公尺。如果我可以踩上去，下攀的距離就只剩不到三公尺，比我第一個下降的懸岩還短。我可以用懸盪的方式晃下來，再下降一小段到谷底的巨石上。用大字型頂著斷層邊緣通過峽谷，以一手一腳互換撐在不同的牆面上，就這樣穿了出來繼續往巨石下去。我的背頂著南面的牆，固定住我的左膝，讓我的腳緊緊頂住了北面的牆。我還用右腳踢了一下巨石來測試它卡得多緊，果真卡得很緊，夠支撐我的重量。我以煙囪爬法姿勢下降，踩上了巨石。 它撐住了我，但有點搖晃。在確定不採用煙囪爬法從巨石下去後，我蹲下來，抓緊嵌住的巨石，背對著峽谷口。肚子滑過了巨石前緣，藉著手臂完全伸展的懸掛著，可以讓自己垂下去，就像是從房子屋頂爬下來一樣。 當我懸盪身體時，感到石頭因我調整姿勢而擦動作響，是我身體的重量讓它移出原位。我立刻知道麻煩來了，本能地離開滾動的巨石，跳到下面的石堆上。我向上一看，發現背光的巨石朝我的頭掉落下來，遮住了天空。恐懼讓我舉起雙手護住了頭，我無路可退了，否則我將從岩層掉下去，唯一的希望是我能推開掉下來的石頭，還要來得及閃開頭，以免被砸中。 接下來的三秒鐘像是慢動作般，也好像在作夢，我的反應也變遲鈍了：巨石把我的左手朝南面牆上砸；我的眼睛在記錄這個撞擊，當巨石還在滾落時，我就抽回左手臂；但巨石隨即壓向我的右手，針對手腕扣住了整條手臂，手掌朝內，拇指向上，手指扯開；巨石又往下滑動三十公分，連帶拖著我的手臂，使得前臂的側面皮膚也被撕裂開了，之後一片寂然。 看著自己手臂消失在滾落的巨石和峽谷岩壁之間的極小縫隙時，無法置信的心情讓我放空了一下。幾秒鐘後，我的神經系統回應出來的劇痛讓我從驚嚇中回神過來。 我的老天爺啊，我的手。灼熱的劇痛讓我驚慌失措，我齜牙咧嘴，發出尖銳的吼聲：幹！我的心命令著我的身體：把你的手掙脫出來！我天真的試了三次，想要把手硬拉出來，但是我卡住了。 焦慮使得我的腦子糾結成一團；劇烈的灼痛從我的手腕竄到手臂。我狂亂不已，大叫出來：喔狗屎、喔狗屎、喔狗屎！ 絕望的腦子突然想起一則或許是杜撰的故事，就是說某個媽媽為了救出孩子，腎上腺素激增的結果是能夠把整輛車子搬起來。我敢打賭說這是捏造的故事，但可確定的是當我身上充滿腎上腺素的當下，正是使用全力讓自己脫困的最好時機。我又擠又擡那巨石，用左手去推，用石頭下的雙膝去頂，雙腳前面那三十公分的巨石正好可以用來做很好的槓桿支點。我站在上面，大腿固定在巨石下，重複不斷的往上推，還一邊發出聲音，拜託動一下！但巨石一動也不動。 休息一下後，我又再猛烈衝撞一次，一樣的文風不動。我重新佈置雙腳，為了要在巨石底部找一個較好的施力點，我把朝上的左手調到巨石一處抓點上，深呼吸，猛撞一下巨石，比之前的幾次還要更用力。呀呀呀呀呃呃呃啊啊啊！出力時肺部的氣也全數往外衝，幾乎只淹沒了巨石搖晃的空洞沉寂聲，感覺不出來石頭有在移動；所得到的結果只有本來的劇痛又更加重一些，我喘了一口氣，噢！Dry! 我移動了它一點點，但它也把我的手腕壓得更緊、更痛了些。這個東西好像比之前更重了，實驗證明我想要移動它，只是浪費體力而已，現在我只想要把它推回去。我又再度就位，用左手拉石頭的頂端，稍稍的把石頭拉回一點點，回復到之前的樣子。疼痛減輕一點。過程中，我撕裂了左膝蓋上方的四頭肌，弄得到處瘀青，流了滿身大汗。我用左手把右邊的袖子捲上肩膀，擦擦額頭的汗水。胸口劇烈起伏，我需要喝水，但當我吸我的水袋軟管時，才發現裡頭沒水了。 所幸，背包裡的水壺裡還有一公升的水，但我花了幾秒才意識到我沒有辦法把背包從右手臂脫下來。我先拿下掛在脖子上的相機，把它放在巨石上面。一旦左手臂上的背包帶卸除後，我就把右邊的帶子鬆開來，把頭塞進圈圈裡，把帶子拉到左肩上，這樣它就圈住了我的軀體。下降的配備、數位照相機和水壺等等的重量，把背包往下拖到我的腳邊，我隨即跨出背包，從我的背包底部拿出水壺後，馬上打開蓋子，還沒理解我正在做的事情的意義之前，已經灌下三大口水，再停下來喘口氣，這才突然想到：不過短短五秒鐘，我竟然牛飲了所剩水資源的三分之一。 喔，該死！笨蛋，蓋起來，收好。不能再喝了。我把蓋子鎖緊，把水壺丟進在我膝蓋旁的背包裡，做了三次深呼吸。 好，該是放鬆的時候了。腎上腺素不會讓你離開這裡。我們來檢視一下，看看有什麼。真是神奇，出事到現在已經半個鐘頭了。對目前的情況保持客觀，不要盲目做下一步的決定，讓我的精力得以安定下來。這不會很快就結束，所以我需要思考，我必須平靜下來。 我決定要做的第一件事是檢查巨石壓住我手腕何處。地心引力和摩擦力掐住了巨石，現在懸在峽谷底部上面一點二公尺的地方，又是新的壓縮點。兩邊的石牆共三點穩住了岩石。巨石朝谷底方向的那一面緊緊壓住了我的手和手腕，這是多麼可怕的握手啊，同時形成了第四點。我心想：我的手不光是釘在那裡，而是擋在巨石和岩壁中間。喔，天啊，真的是他媽的。 我把左手指戳進接觸點上面的小縫隙中，摸到我的大拇指，它現在已經變成病灰灰的顏色，歪斜的翹著，看起來極為不自然。我用左手的食指和中指來扳正拇指，發現右手完全沒有知覺。我懷著疏離的感覺接受這件事實，好像我是在診斷別人的問題，這種醫療的客觀性讓我冷靜下來。 那似乎不是我的手，如果是我的手，我摸它的時候會有感覺。眼前我手臂有感覺之處，最遠只達手腕，就是巨石壓著的地方。從外表判斷，在意外發生時沒有骨頭破裂的聲音，加上左手去摸它的感覺，我可能沒有骨折。不過從事故的性質來看，極有可能是皮肉之傷，而就我所知，手的中間可能有東西斷了。不管是哪一種，都不是好事。 觀察了一下巨石的下方情況，我可以摸到右手的小指，我用左手去感覺一下小指的位置所在，感覺它在手掌內扭曲變形；在一個不完整的拳頭裡；我的肌肉似乎被迫收縮，既無法放鬆我的手，也伸展不了任何一根手指頭。我試著一隻隻去扭動它們，但無論哪一根都沒有任何動作。我再試著收縮肌肉，想要讓拳頭縮緊一點，但一點動靜都沒有。這讓不是好事的情形加倍嚴重。 把胸部再貼近石牆一點，我的左手食指還是無法從下面碰到右手手腕，左手小指幾乎無法滑進巨石和岩壁之中的縫隙，無法掃到右手臂腕關節的側邊。我抽回了左手，不再到處亂戳，看了一下左手腕，估計大約有七公分厚，但我的右手腕已經被壓扁到只剩下正常厚度的六分之一。若不是有骨頭，整條手臂恐怕早被巨石壓平了。從我右手的慘白，和並沒有因外傷造成失血的這件事實看來，恐怕這隻卡住的手已經沒有血輸進或輸出。沒有知覺或動也不動則可能意味著神經已經受損。不管是呈現出什麼樣的傷害，我的右手似乎完全與身體的循環、神經和運動控制等隔絕了。這在不是好事的檢查清單上，等於是三項全中。 心裡一陣咒罵聲爆發出來：狗屎！How can this happen?How unlucky!你的手怎麼會去他媽的壓在他媽的巨石下面？check it out!你的手被壓扁了；要壞死了，笨蛋，而你一點也幫不上忙。如果在幾個小時之內無法讓血液循環，手就廢了。 no, I can not.我會離開這裡。我的意思是如果沒有離開這裡，我損失的可不只是手而已。我一定要離開！理性回應，但在這裡掌握主控權的並非理性；腎上腺素還沒有完全消失。 你動彈不得，運氣爛透。我不喜歡悲觀，但是左肩上的惡魔知道不要再欺騙自己。這小混蛋是對的：我無前景、無希望。但要我絕望，實在還太早。 No!住嘴，這毫無幫助的。最好繼續勘查，看我能多知道些什麼。從我右肩上發出聲音的任何人說的都對，我需要煩惱的不是我的手，有一個更大的議題。太擔心表面的問題只會消耗資源。目前，我需要收集更多資訊。做完了這個決定後，一種接納的感受讓我穩定下來。 朝我的右邊看上去，北面牆上巨石上方零點三公尺高的地方，我看到砂石上灑落一些碎肉、手臂上的汗毛，還有幾灘血。在把我的手臂往牆上拖時，大巨石和平滑的砂石就像銼刀一樣，把我皮膚的表層一條條刮下來。我盯著手臂底部，看看還有沒有更多的血，結果沒有，一滴也沒有。 把頭回正時，我碰到了帽緣，太陽眼鏡因而掉到腳邊的背包上。把它撿起來後，我看到上面有刮痕。現在大概用不到了吧。我告訴自己，但還是小心的把它放在巨石上面。 我的耳機早從耳邊打落，但現在隨著我平靜下來，我聽到群眾在ＣＤ中的大聲歡呼，當碟片突然停止時，所有的聲音隨之蒸發，突如其來的安靜，更強化了我的困境。我無可挽回的被困在這裡，站在幽暗的峽谷底下，想要向上、向下或往左朝右移動幾公分都不行。會懷疑我失蹤的人當中，也沒人知道我在哪裡。我違反了荒野旅遊的首要準則，就是沒有把詳細旅程計畫留給負責的聯絡人。離我的卡車有十二公里遠，我現在是獨自一個在人煙罕至的地方，沒有任何方法可以以聲音連絡五十公尺外的任何人。 單獨一個人在這樣的情況下，很快就證明還真是要命。 我的手錶顯示現在是下午三點二十八分，巨石砸在我的手臂上已經四十五分鐘了。我檢查了一下我的背包還剩下什麼，在我的糧食塑膠袋中，除了巧克力包裝紙和麵包袋內一些巧克力鬆糕屑之外，還有兩條墨西哥小捲餅，加起來約有五百卡。背包外的網袋裡有ＣＤ唱盤、ＣＤ、長效性AA電池，小型的攝錄相機。我多功能的工具刀和三顆LED的頭燈也在網袋裡。我把電子產品分類，把刀子和頭燈拿出來，擺在太陽眼鏡旁邊。 我把相機放進保護布袋，隨後再丟進收著其他電器產品的網袋裡。扣掉水壺和空的存水袋，我背包就只剩下裝在黑色袋裡的黃綠色登山繩、攀岩安全帶及一小包的下降裝備，是我帶來做大斷層下降用的。 腦力激盪一下，想想任何可以讓我離開這裡的方法。方便、簡單的點子率先浮現，雖然其中一些是一廂情願的想法，不太真實，像是其他的峽谷探險者會穿越石縫的這個區域而看到我，他們可能會幫我脫困，或給我衣服、食物和水後再去尋求救援。或許梅根和克莉絲蒂看到我沒和她們會合，會想到我可能出事了，會去找我的卡車或通知公園服務中心。又或許我在亞斯本的朋友布萊德和莉亞．尤爾發現我沒出現在今晚的大史酷比沙漠集會上，也會有一樣的反應。問題是他們不確定我會不會出席，因為昨天在莫亞布的時候，我並沒有打電話給他們。明天是星期天，或許有人會在休假的時候走這條路。如果我沒有在週一晚上前離開這裡，我的室友鐵定會想到我，或許就會通知警方。又或者我上班的商店經理發現我週二沒上班，會打電話給我媽。但大家可能會花上好幾天的時間來找出我到哪裡去了，所以至少要到週三才可能展開搜索，而如果他們找到了我的卡車，之後的進展應該就會很快了。 等待搜救的最大阻礙是我沒有足夠的水，幾分鐘前我大喝幾口後只剩下六百五十毫升。在沙漠地區無水狀況下的平均存活時間是兩到三天，有時候你在攝氏三十八度的熱氣下行動，存活的時間更少到只剩一天。我想我可以撐到週一晚上。但如果是在週一前過來的搜救，不太可能是由一個和我同樣是峽谷探險者，或是訓練有素的組員經過組織後的行動。換言之，短時間內獲救的機率似乎像中樂透一樣。 我本來就不是一個有耐心的人；每次碰到需要等待的情況，我就會做一些事來殺時間。稱我為即刻滿足一代的小孩吧，或許我的想像力因為看了太多的電視而發育不良，但我不會守株待兔。目前的情況來看，這或許是好事。我只有一個問題要解決，就是我一定要離開這裡，所以我用盡心思要逃離這個困境。扣掉一些很愚蠢的點子，像是在巨石上敲開我的長效性AA電池，讓裡面的酸性物質溶解巨石但不會侵蝕到我的手臂。接著我把其他的選項依個人偏好排出來：用多功能工具挖開我手周邊的岩石、在上頭用繩子做個固定點，把巨石拉離我的手，或者，切斷我的手臂。 很快的，每個選項好像都不可能：我沒有工具可移除掉足夠的石頭，好讓手脫開；就算有繩子，我也沒有足夠的力量來移動巨石；最後一項似乎是我最好的選擇，但是我沒有工具、技術、或是情感的魄力來割斷自己的手臂。 或許把自斷手臂的主意往後延，是因為現在的我看待它，比較像是一個單純的策略，而不是真正能付諸實行的行動。我還是決定選擇比較輕鬆的鏟掉手臂旁邊的石頭。我把放在巨石上的多功能工具拿出來，抽出較長的那一片刀片，突然很慶幸當初有把它放進我的裝備裡。 我挑一個巨石上容易切進的點，就在胸口前離右手腕幾公分遠的地方，刮出一條十公分長的線。如果我能移掉這條線下方的石頭，並朝我的手指方向往後推展十五公分，就可以讓右手脫困。但這條線下面的石頭厚達七公分，我必須要鏟掉一點七立方公尺的石頭。這是很大一塊，我知道鏟砂石這工作既冗長又乏味。 我首先做的努力是沿著我劃下的線條，慢慢鋸開巨石，但這樣幾乎無法磨損岩石。我再試一次，這一次我鋸的更用力，但是刀柄背面在我食指上留下刻印，比刀鋒在岩石上刻出痕跡還容易。換了一下刀子的握法，這次我改用諾曼．貝茲11的握法，朝石頭同一個位置不斷的刺，依然沒有明顯的效果。我試著找出一條裂痕、找出巨石的弱點來加以利用，但找不出來。即使我專注在手腕上面岩石裡一個小小的結晶突起物，也要花掉我好幾個小時才能移掉那小小的礦石。 11諾曼．貝茲：Norman Bates，電影<驚魂記>裡那位其實為殺人魔的旅店主人。 我用手掌底去捶石頭，手上仍握著刀柄，怒火中燒的大聲狂叫：為什麼這個砂石這麼硬啊？ 每次在砂石層登