Canyoning & rappelling adventures hit me like a rogue flash flood last spring—literally soaked my boxers in Zion’s Narrows before I even clipped in. I’m parked outside a dusty Denny’s in St. George right now, thighs still vibrating from yesterday’s 180-foot drop, sipping burnt coffee while the AC drips on my flip-flops. Smells like fryer grease and neoprene in here, and yeah, I’m scribbling this on a napkin because my phone’s charging off the cigarette lighter. Anyway.
Why Canyoning & Rappelling Adventures Wrecked My Weekend Plans (in the Best Way)
Look, I thought “rappelling” was just backyard treehouse stuff until my cousin dragged me to Pine Creek. First anchor? I built it wrong—gate-down carabiner, classic rookie move—and spent ten minutes dangling like a piñata while ravens laughed. The rope burn on my palm still looks like I high-fived a cheese grater. But that metallic clink of locking off, the cold shock of the pool below… dude, it’s crack for control freaks.
Prepping for Canyoning & Rappelling Adventures Without Looking Like a Total Noob
- Wet suit hack: Size down. Mine was a 2XL hand-me-down; I swam inside it like a sad seal.
- Chalk bag real talk: Pink camo looks dope on Insta, zero function when it’s soaked.
- Snack stash: Ziploc of gas-station taquitos—greasy, salty, survives submersion. Learned that the hard way after my Clif Bar turned to paste.
I still triple-check every knot now, muttering “EBDB” under my breath—edge, brake, dress, backup—because the one time I skipped backup, the rope slipped six inches and my soul left my body.
Top Spots for Canyoning & Rappelling Adventures That Nearly Ended Me
Red Rock Rappelling in Sedona (AKA My Vertigo Nightmare)
Morning Star route—120 feet of overhanging crimson. I froze halfway, staring at a lizard doing push-ups on the wall like “bro, same.” Wind whistled through the chimney, rope singing that high-pitched ziiiiiiip. Finally unweighted, kissed the ground, proposed to gravity.
Smoky Mountain Slot Shenanigans
Tennessee humidity turns every rappel into a slip-n-slide. Poison ivy in the pool? Yup. Leeches? Double yup. But jumping the 25-foot waterfall into chocolate-milk water while fireflies blinked on… worth the itch.
Utah’s Subway—Because Tubes Are for Amateurs
Bottom-up approach in The Subway had me chimneying between walls so narrow my harness scraped varnish off like finger paint. Glow worms in the dark section lit the way—nature’s LED strips.
Gear Fails & Bail Stories From My Canyoning & Rappelling Adventures
Remember that GoPro? Lost it in a hydraulic. Found it three pools down, still recording my underwater scream. Also, pro tip: don’t trust a $9 Amazon figure-8. Mine bent like a pretzel; switched to a Pirana and never looked back. Check REI’s rappel device guide before you yeet yourself.
The Mental Game of Canyoning & Rappelling Adventures (Spoiler: I Cried)
Exposure therapy, baby. First 50-footer I sobbed—silent, snotty, full ugly cry—then laughed because the echo made it sound like a duet. Now I talk to the rock: “Hold me, daddy.” Works 60% of the time.
Rookie Mistakes I’ll Never Admit on Instagram
- Forgetting a headlamp—navigated a slot by iPhone flashlight till the battery died.
- Peeing in the wet suit for “warmth.” Regret level: 11/10.
- Trusting trail beta from 2012. Flash flood rerouted the canyon; exited via sketchy cattle trail at 2 a.m.
Wrapping Up This Canyoning & Rappelling Adventures Rant
I’m back in the Denny’s booth, hashbrown crumbs in my beard, staring at rope-calloused hands that still twitch when I close my eyes. Canyoning & rappelling adventures cracked my Type-A shell and let the wild leak in—scars, stoke, and all.
Your turn: grab a buddy, a 60-meter rope, and way more snacks than you think you need. Hit up American Canyoneers for permits and beta, then send me your bail pics. I’ll roast you lovingly.
Now if you’ll excuse me, the waitress just refilled my coffee with decaf. Betrayal.
