Ouch.

It hurts to move.

That is all.


Ironically what hurts most is not actually from the canyon but from the position I was attempting to sleep in after we got out of the canyon, but couldn't get back to the car.

We were about 12 miles from the car. The bathrooms had heat- though the windows had been left open, it still provided a warmer, wind-proof place to pull off the wetsuits and get back into normal (and dry) clothing. If it weren't for the horribly decrepit shoes I wear canyoneering (because I've cut them apart and they're now big enough to fit my neoprene socks in them) I almost would have walked/jogged the four miles to the Canyon Lodge (where other's experience tells us I could have phoned a ranger, who would have driven up to pick us up and taken us back to the visitor's center- near our car). But the idea of putting those sand/rock filled soaking wet shoes on, getting my dry socks wet, and spending another hour and a half in the cold windy, main canyon- just wasn't worth it. Especially because even after we got to our car we would have had to either find a hotel room in Zion at 2am during Easter Weekend- or drive another hour to where the other car was spotted and not get to sleep until 3am. Had I known I wasn't going to sleep a wink anyway- I probably would have done it- but such are the decisions we make.


Anyway- now I get to move around and figure out whether different parts hurt from overuse, misuse, or actual scraps and bruises... it's a discovery process.

Selma's sad she missed seeing Zion... maybe next time.