My first step into the Dirty Devil went up to my hips. I turned right around and walked an extra 5 or so miles to avoid crossing it numerous times. This is the view down on it from old uranium mine roads. It seemed to be flowing hard and is said to be unpredictable with quicksand too. I just wasn’t mentally prepared to tackle it alone. Like I said in an earlier post today, I have a little issue with walking in rivers. I opted for the psychedelic (awesoooooooooome) Hatch Canyon route, and came down to my ONE Dirty Devil crossing that night. I didn’t have courage; I slept on it.
That night a truck pulled up on my side. Bruce and Lani had taken 4×4 roads instead of highways on a lark using a Utah atlas and were in way over their heads. They were dead ended at the crossing, like me. Only Bruce had crossed it several times during the night and reassured me it was okay.
I practically glided across and went to fetch Rangers to help them get towed across. Bruce rewarded me for the rescue with the most delicious orange I’ve ever devoured, grown on his orchard in Escondido.