Part IV: Out of the Canyon

When we last saw our hero, he was about to perish in the desert on his birthday. Read on to see how he gets out alive.

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After a sleepless night dreaming about maps and water, we get up at dawn and backtrack up the canyon.

Larry rejoices when he spots the green of a cottonwood tree in a the bottom of the next canyon. This must be Dead Horse Spring. We are saved.


Larry sets right to work pumping 21 pounds of water after engineering a fine dam from rocks and sand.


Now that we're not going to die, Larry decides to be nice to me again. To my dismay, I notice I'm starting to dress exactly like our hero. Maybe I'll grow a beard.

We follow the spring-fed creek down the canyon.
Eventually the water all seeps into the sand, and we're without water again (except for the 21 pounds in Larry's pack). The next water is a day away, back at the car.

Lucky for us, the canyon is easy to follow.
"Look how cinchy," I tell Larry, "we don't need a map after all."


Feeling better, Larry gives me a lesson on the formation of the marble from which this canyon takes its name.


"Marble is a metamorphic rock formed by alteration of limestone or dolomite. It's composed mostly of calcite, a crystalline form of calcium carbonate, or CaCO3."

"Well, how fascinating," I tell him.



The canyon turns into a wonderful series of slots.


Towards evening, we leave the canyon.
The car is a few miles ahead, but it's getting dark. Larry's still packing a gazillion pounds of water, so we decide to camp for the night on the hardpan.


In the morning, Larry gets up early to take a picture of camp before the moon sets. Exhausted from [not] carrying all that water, I sleep late.

We bust out the final couple of miles and return to the car.
Larry rejoices that the ordeal is over and vows never to leave the car behind again.


As we leave the mountains behind, we count up: four days of vacation left.

We stop at Panamint Springs for a hamburger.
"Let's find a nice hotel and a golf course," Larry begs. "I'm tired from packing all that water."

But I'm not ready to give up the desert life.
"Absolutely not," I tell him, "you're such a wimp."

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In our next installment you'll hear my daughter complain about this Spring Break post. "You're using toooo many words," she'll say. You'll also get to see a top secret hot springs and get a glimpse of a perfectly bare butt.