Wednesday, September 22, 2010

Day 10 - Spanish Fork Canyon to Thistle

What an awesome adventure today was! I started out this morning at about 4 am got out of the car and into whipping, chilling winds, took half a dozen steps, nearly got bowled over by a semi passing in the dark, and declared, “This is freaking nuts!” I got back in the car and went back to the trailer. A few hours later, I was back on the road. The winds were a bit gentler and definitely not as chilly. And it was light. Good formula for a walk.
Spanish Fork Canyon is beautiful this time of year, but also not the safest place to be walking along the road. So instead I went down to the train tracks that follow the river. I walked on the tracks for a few hours until Kara caught up with me near where the tracks and the road converged again. She surprised me by walking down the tracks to meet me, bearing gifts of water, camera batteries and some munchies, and we walked together back to the car. She finally got to walk with me a while.
Soon after, an old friend I grew up with, Jorg (Ken Jorgensen) showed up with his own munchies. Besides Twizzlers and a pack of jerky, he had brought a case of Red Cream Soda and Reeses – our standard lunch in Jr. High – and we headed out over the train tracks again. We found a dirt road part way down and we were able to get off the tracks. Just a few minutes later, a train came by, followed by another a few minutes later. We reminisced about old friends and other hikes and walks we had taken together. Eventually we came to the site of the Thistle slide – a massive area of mud and rock that buried the rail road, dammed the river and destroyed the town of Thistle in 1983. It is still considered the costliest mudslide in U.S. history. The landslide, 1000 feet wide, and over a mile long had formed a 220-foot-high dam which stood in the path I intended to walk.
Kara and I had scouted out the slide area the day before. There was a construction crew working on the road to the east of the slide, where the shooting range now stands. They suggested we walk until the road ended west of the dam, and then drive around to the east side of the slide and pick up our walk from there. That was the plan.
But, when Jorg and I got to the end of the road, Kara was back in Spanish Fork moving the trailer. We decided to walk up and over the dam. So we headed up a dirt road that became a path which finally ended at a shallow ravine. We crossed the ravine, and continued to hike through the brush and up the slide. To my dismay, when we were near the top I saw that the dam was crowned with a sturdy chain-link fence with barbed wire across the top. We had a few choices; climb the fence, walk around the fence, or walk back (no way that was happening.). The fence line ended abrubtly against the sandstone face of Billies Mountain. Perhaps we could get around that?
Jorg is much skinnier than I am, and he was able to barely squeeze through the space between the last fence post and the rock wall. I was not so lucky. So, I had to climb up the wall and around the fence post. I was partly over the top when I mentioned to Jorg that this was something he probably should not tell my wife. But I wanted pictures.
I had him grab the camera and he said, “Now I can’t tell my wife either, because she is going to wonder why when you are hanging by a thread, I’m taking pictures and cracking up instead of helping you down.”
His words were still hanging in the air when the walkie talkie I had brought rang out, “Honey, where are you?”
Jorg handed me the walkie talkie trying unsuccessfully to stifle a laugh. I tried to innocently answer my wife, “I’m up here.” Jorg busted up.
“Up where?” She replied.
“On top of the slide” I responded, “and I can see you.”
“You decided to walk over the top?”
Another burst of laughter from Jorg, as I answered. “Sort of.” “
What do you mean sort of?” “
“You will need to pick us up on the other side,” was all I said.
“OK.” Came her cheerful reply.
When she met us on the other side, she noticed I had cuts on my arm and she asked if I fell. I told her, “not exactly” and then described what had happened on the fence.
“Did you get pictures?” she asked hopefully. “You gotta have pictures of that!” I had to smile. Kara is awesome.
WHERE'S WALLY?

Today's walk
View Interactive Map on MapMyWalk.com
Tomorrow's walk
View Interactive Map on MapMyWalk.com

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