RECOVERY
We headed up early the next day, ready for the second stage of this adventure. It must have been quite the sight at the trailhead that morning, a group of six guys going in on three sleds with snowshoes and climbing gear strapped to the tunnels. Coincidentally, this was also Valentine’s Day, and you can only imagine the jokes here. The snowshoes would be necessary to hike the final mile back up the creek bottom. While we would be able to get the sleds down the creek bottom once off the waterfall (with some effort), there was no riding up this creek bottom. Several of the guys remarked that this would be their first, and possibly last, snowshoe outing.
We cruised up the couple miles of trail to the base of Waterfall Canyon and were soon unloading the gear and preparing to hike up to the waterfall. I felt a certain sense of embarrassment in organizing this sled rescue mission. My riding buddies, I think, consider me to be a capable navigator and strong rider. I feared that this episode would create second thoughts on future rides. However, any fears were quickly dispelled on the hike up to the waterfall as our group laughed and joked about the mission at hand.
“When was the last time you hiked up a canyon on snowshoes with three backpacks full of climbing gear to retrieve sleds?” The general sense within the rescue group almost seemed to be that they wished their sleds were sitting on top of the waterfall too, and joining the retrieval effort was more than worth the stories that were certain to follow.
Upon reaching the waterfall and the sight of a sled parked right at the top, more laughs followed. Although I was confident in Lj and Mark’s skills, I could not help thinking about how I would explain this to my insurance agent if things did not work out. Not only was my sled first in line (and rightfully so), but everyone happily talked about how this was a first-of-its-kind adventure and how none of them had ever thought about how to lower a 500-pound snowmobile off a 60-foot waterfall. Nevertheless, Lj assured me that this climbing gear was designed to handle significantly more weight than the snowmobile.
We affixed the climbing ropes and setup a belay system at the top in order to lower the sleds in a controlled and slow manner. We also attached a rope to the front of the sled that would allow Shane to steer the sled from the bottom. Once everything was in place I slowly pushed the sled over the edge as Lj manned the belay. I felt an enormous sense of relief as my sled crept over the top and began to descend the waterfall under control. The system worked perfectly thanks to Lj and Mark.
Within a minute the sled was sitting at the bottom without a scratch on it. I jokingly said, “See you guys later!” But our attention shifted to the two remaining sleds. The team made short work of Zak and Ryan’s sleds, and by 2 pm we were all sitting at the base of the waterfall around a fire and sharing stories and laughs about the adventures we find ourselves on. What I thought would be an all-day recovery had taken about half that time. We savored the moment and I was reluctant to leave knowing it was unlikely that we would ever get another chance to ride this incredible canyon. But alas, there was still a mile of highly-technical creek bottom to ride out and half of the crew would still be walking.