Sisphys

 The annual pilgrimage down south to warmer deserts has once again showed us that even solace can be found sleeping in the mountains just outside of an urban sprawl.

Tucked away beyond the city lights we found a playground.

  If you climbed to the top of these towering cliffs you may be able to look out and see a valley housing a million people grinding through their day to day life. 

  Here we are in the final gutter of a desert metropolis that all sprang to life because of this one key ingredient.

Water.  

 Although there was easier methods to take down into this underworld, we chose a more contrived route.

  Parked near a freeway off ramp we left our cars behind and followed the head of a wash down.

  Down a gravel dry wash we hiked around the bends in the canyons and watched the horizon reach higher into the sky.

Then we found the water table.

  Chlorophyll started to appear on the walls and spread to the ground. We went from stepping over the water to a few bends later being forced to move through it.

  Water collected in low spots and began pooling behind rocks and boulders. Now deeper in the canyon, what light shined down through the cliffs above could only paint murals on the walls.  The washed out grays and browns were a darker and richer shade of black and green.

  We spent some time bathing in man made pools of excess heat. Then we were berthed into the Colorado. A shockingly colder temperature of water than our afternoon bath.

  This is not the Colorado I'm familiar with. You can actual see the bottom of the Colorado here. I'm use to watching my fingers disappear knuckle deep. Places where silt tries to compete with water for space. Here I can look down and actually appreciate how deep the Colorado can get. 

 With that thought in mind, belongings were pulled out of our bags and lined up along the bank. Clothes and other dry goods are stuffed in dry bags and shoved into the tubes of our rafts.

We became free entertainment for the day hikers that ate their lunch on the boulders nearby.

 A pleasure cruise down canyon till sundown led us to our camp for the night. A narrow sliver of sand sandwiched between a slowly rising river and tamarisk tree's. We did not account for the river to rise over a foot and gobble up half of our beach just before calling it a night. It wasn't until our fire rings were getting saturated that some gear and tents needed to be moved up the beach.

  With morning came the final paddle towards Willow. Miles of flat water kept us pleasantly entertained. Wind would be a real problem here. We did not experience that. The weatherman called for strong gusts and I'm pretty sure I had weather warnings on my phone before embarking. We lucked out and only experienced glass.

 "You're just paddling." That's what I would keep telling myself after I past another brightly reflective mile marker sign on the river bank. These bright red and green triangles are positioned every mile down this river to remind you how far you have gone, and how far you still have to go. My arms were sore and tired of the monotony. Who does this for fun I thought...Well, I do apparently. As it's the weekend, and this is what I chose to do with my free time.



Good time, would do again.