One day, Dave, Don, Lyn and I drove over to hike down Bull Valley Gorge. Don's white truck is parked over where the road goes over the gorge.
Underneath the "bridge" is the remains of a pick-up truck that ran off the road in 1954, killing the 3 occupants.
Five years ago, we were there on Memorial Day, and the son of the driver was there with his daughter and grandkids. He was only 18-months old when his father died.
We did not hike down into the gorge then, but I have always wanted to do it.
We walked up to the head of the gorge and then started down. Quite quickly, we came upon a 10-foot drop where you had to get down by rope. Uh-oh...
Dave got down just fine, but I didn't think I could do it.
But Lyn was willing to do it, so I thought I shouldn't be the wimpy one to turn around. So down I went, with some help from Dave.
Okay, I'm down, but how in the world am I going to get back up???
We went down the gorge some more, scrambling over more obstacles, but none as bad as the rope.
Until we got to another spot, that was even worse. Now we had to turn around. I got out, but not without Dave pushing and Don pulling. Fortunately, there aren't any pictures of that...
But I did get a shot of the 2 musclemen who got Lyn and I out.
After this debacle, we drove back 2 miles to walk some of Willis Creek.
It is much easier and just as pretty. The only obstacle is the water running down the canyon, which makes for a lot of hopping back and forth.
I found some not-so-ancient pictographs done by someone named Victoria.
And thoroughly enjoyed the rest of the day.