Uma Raja

One of the cliffs used for rappelling.

Dangling from the side of a 600ft canyon with no rope. It’s not the ideal way I’d spend my vacation, yet exactly one year ago I found myself in that life-or-death situation.

I had many crazy adventures this summer, but I can’t help but reflect on the events that occurred in the summer 2014. My family, which consisted of my parents and eight year old brother, were on a vacation in Utah. We were all set to try something called “Beginner’s Canyoneering.” Canyoneering is when you navigate through the slits of canyon, climbing over boulders, shuffling through cracks and jumping from rocks. Beginner’s Canyoneering also included something called rappelling, which is when you wear a harness and walk down the face of a canyon.

Nobody but me seemed to think that this sounded terrifying, proving that I am the only sane one in my family. Despite my complaints we rode on a dirt smeared truck and to Zion Park with a canyoneering expert.

At first it was entertaining. We rappelled down a 10ft canyon and moved on to a 70ft one. It was easy and exhilarating. It was also quite simple–you lean backwards, grab the rope, and let gravity do the rest.

Canyoneering took around four hours. I slithered through crevices and crawled over rocks. Then we came upon a dead end. There was nothing but a giant cliff lurking above us. I asked where we were supposed to go. We couldn’t turn around, rappelling is a one-way trip.

“Up!”  the instructor responded, and everyone laughed, because of course it had to be a joke. Only he wasn’t joking. We were between the bottoms of two canyons with no cell phone service and no walkie-talkies. The only way to escape… was up.

“Oh,” the instructor added, “There’s no metal hook to attach the harness. We can’t use a rope.”

I would have to climb a 600ft canyon without a rope. Keep in mind that I’m the kind of person whose idea of “exercise” is using my fingers to scroll through tumblr. Climbing the cliff was out of the question, yet it was the only way to escape. So I began to climb. It was a situation where if you made one wrong move and fell you would actually plummet to your death. Splattering didn’t sound fun, so I continued to climb.. I slipped a few times but I managed to catch myself.

The sun had risen against the painted desert sky. The powerful rays scorched the rocks, making them unbearably hot. You could only rest your hands for a few seconds before your palms burned. You either had to bear the pain of your skin melting off or move fast.

For hours we scaled the canyon, eventually making it to a sandy trail that led to the car. More exhausted than I’d ever been before, I stumbled into the road. Everyone rejoiced, and nobody was injured except for some minor scars. I refused to celebrate my survival, all I wanted to do was guzzle water in the car’s A/C. My muscles ached and I’d never been more overheated in my entire life, but somehow I had done it. While it may not have been the ideal way to spend my summer vacation, it’s certainly a trip I’ll never forget.