I don't know if I've mentioned before that Budd is not fond of exercise. If not, I'll do it now. Budd is not fond of exercise, especially walking. He wouldn't mind playing basketball, but I don't play games I don't have a prayer of winning, lol. Anyway, I was pleased and surprised Saturday morning after teasingly suggesting to him that he go on my walk with me and he agreed!
After a quick breakfast, we set out on what I had planned as a 1-mile walk, just to complete my 5-mile a week personal goal. I've been getting in 6 or more, but this week had done some other types of cardio, so I was short. We got about a tenth of a mile down the road when he said he'd rather climb a hill, gesturing to a rocky one we were passing, or go hike on the White House trail. I've been wanting to do the latter ever since we were here before in January, February and part of March of this year. Unfortunately, I was not fit enough to do it then, especially since some parts were icy and I didn't have appropriate footgear for that. Naturally, I jumped at this offer, so we turned around and went back to the house for the car, as it is several miles away.
At this point I'd better stop and explain for readers who haven't been with me since January that Canyon de Chelly is something of a slot canyon, though not as narrow as the ones that people get caught in flash floods in. It is a complex crack in the ground in high desert country, and from a few miles away riding along the highway, you wouldn't even know it's here. It has great historical significance to the Navajos, on whose tribal land it exists, and it was home before the Navajo to an even older people that have been named the Anasazi by archaeologists, or perhaps by more modern tribes. The name is usually interpreted as 'Ancient Ones'. They are the peoples who left tiny villages and the mysterious rock art on the canyon walls throughout the region we call Four Corners for the four states that come together at one spot; Utah, Colorado, Arizona and New Mexico.
The White House is one such ruin, situated in the bottom of the canyon and accessible by a trail that is 2.5 to 3 miles (depending on which sign you believe) from the rim of one side of the canyon , across a wash at the bottom and over to the other side. The trail switches back and forth down from the canyon rim for about a 600 foot drop, and of course if you walk down there, you have to climb back up.
Taking two 16-oz bottles of water, which proved to be just barely enough, we set off down the trail at about 10:30 a.m. This is the top of the trail:
And this is the bottom:
I started out strong! 
But this was on the way back:
Thank goodness for the scraps of shade we found on the way back, especially in the two tunnels that have been blasted through the rock on the trail. Inside the tunnels was a cool breeze that made us want to stay and wait for the rescue crew.
When we got home, we both crashed for two-hour naps, more or less obliterating the calorie advantage. :( Next time we go, lol, like I'd ever get Budd to do it again, it will be earlier in the morning, and we'll take both food and extra water. Seriously, if Budd likes hiking better than walking on the flat, I'll find some hikes. I'm not the only one who needs to lose weight, and it's much more fun for me when he's along. In spite of the effort, I was laughing all day, much of the time at his remarks.
We assumed we'd find Navajos vending food and water at the ruins, but all they had was jewelry. If we'd had an extra $750 and the notion that we could carry another ounce of weight besides our own back up that trail, Budd would have purchased a gorgeous silver wrist cuff with turquoise and amethyst insets. The artist told us he had won first place with that piece at some sort of exhibition. I don't know why they don't have bottled water and maybe even fry bread there...they are missing a bet. Of course, they wouldn't have to climb down the way we did, there is a road in from the mouth of the canyon. People with less ambition take Jeep tours to the ruin.
We had to laugh at a guy we met on the way back up. We stopped and rested in every scrap of shade, so younger, fitter people who arrived at the ruins after we did overtook us on the way back. We were discussing the water situation with one person who stopped to talk to us as we rested, and he said he told one of the Navajos he didn't need any jewelry, but he'd pay her twenty dollars to drive him out. I had to wonder how many people had to be rescued later in the day, as the people we passed coming down while we went back up had started as the day was beginning to get really hot, and the majority carried no water at all. I'm actually surprised there are no signs warning people to take water. Maybe the NPS assumes people have some common sense--a dangerous assumption.
Both Budd and I have recently read the account of Aron Ralston, a young man who became trapped in a canyon near Moab as the crow flies a few years ago. He was hiking alone and dislodged a several hundred-pound boulder which caught his hand between it and the canyon wall. After waiting for nearly a week for rescue and near death from dehydration, he finally managed to amputate his hand and walk out, a remarkable story that I remember hearing about at the time. In the book, he mentioned a Camelback, which is a small backpack in which to carry water, with a drinking tube so that you can drink as you go without removing it. The last people we talked to on the hike out had one, and having seen it in person I now want one for just this type of adventure. I think it carries a couple of liters. I seem to have acquired an addiction to buying fitness gadgets. REI, here I come!
By the way, that Aron Ralston story is a good read. It's called Between a Rock and a Hard Place, a clever title if there ever was one. I highly recommend it!
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