Alas, our eggs were frozen as evidenced by the fact that they would not change from their oblong shape after the shells had been carefully peeled away. It was cold. At least the sun shines bright on our camp after last night's storm blanketed Indian Creek 8 inches of white. Plus, we have done this before, this is what we expect, this is what we came for -complete desert solitude surrounded by world-class rock climbing as far as the eye can see...
After a several minutes of taking in the air we begin speculating as to the whereabouts of our esteemed colleagues Sam-dog and his unwavering disciple Lemus. The two of them delayed, hopelessly lost, possibly dead or worse... There is just no way to know. We decide the best course of action is to make some breakfast as a paean to the desert gods for this sunny day. Breakfast will be a long drawn out affair killing precious time, whilst giving the perfectly vertical, wine-red desert walls time to be solar panels. This is what Sam and Lemus would have wanted us to do. While fetching supplies for 'first breakfast' and Bobby Joe runnoft urinating thoughtfully in the snow somewheres, out of the corner of my eye a flurry of orange furr. "Sam-Dog! Yes!" and not far behind his master is Lemus! Alive! Son of a gun.
"Made it through the storm did yuz?" Shore did woodsie.
"Where's the bacon?"
"Comin' right up jerk" i said with respect. "Glad your alive. Some statie come by last night looking for a lady in a sedan coming outta the Needles, said she had gone missing, only car we seen all day dagnabbit..."
"Probably slid off the road somewheres. Where's that bacon?"
"Coming right up."
Some time later, maybe it was the angle of the sun or something but we suddenly stopped in our tracks, arrested by a view across the canyon of Broken Tooth Wall. With the day nearing its tipping point and the air just warm enough, we hastily gather gear and frozen water bottles and point it to the cliffs.
