Canyon de Chelly

THE BODY ELECTRIC

Not enough DMT has been inhaled: the swirling tapestry does not lift onto the beyond.

But that quickly stops to matter: JP is hyperventilating in the suffocating cocoon of his sleeping bag, with but a few seconds to get out. Fresh neurotransmitters flood receptor sites, kicking out the spirit molecule. Waves of pure life energy course through the body electric ― now exposed to winter wilderness. Ah, the viscerality of it all!

NO PICNIC AT SPIDER ROCK

R has slipped off an ice-covered slab and broken his fibulae bone at the ankle.

We assess the situation: we are illegal in the canyon so getting rescued will entail legal troubles. R elects to walk on one foot and a set of improvised crutches ― enduring the pain with pathetically inadequate doses of ibuprofen and somehow avoiding frosbite. JP will treck back and forth carrying our packs.

What we don't factor is the oncoming storm that is about to dump 2 feet of snow on our path. It will take us 2 days to hike out of the canyon.