calico tanks: red rock canyon

The moment I realized I would actually meet my goal of 365 days of sweat in 2013, I knew exactly how I wanted to celebrate.

I would return to Calico Tanks, at Red Rock Canyon, on the first day of 2014. This is the place where I kicked off My Year of Sweat on Jan 1, 2013.

I couldn’t have written a more perfect or poetic an ending to this journey had I tried.

Sadly, that beautifully scripted Hollywood ending was not to be.

We stayed in Toronto through the holidays + an additional two weeks.

This past Friday I returned to the scene of the crime. It was 16 days later than I had hoped, but I was determined to make it a magical experience, nonetheless.

And it was.

For the most part.

I had forgotten what a challenging hike this is. It’s probably one of the most mislabelled hikes, in my opinion, at a rating of Moderate.

True, it can be a moderate hike if you manage to find the easier scrambles to follow up to, and down from, the summit. The issue is that there about a million different ways you can hike this route. Some are moderate. Others are white-knuckle, faint-inducing.

We picked moderate routes for the first 3/4 of the way to summit.

While the scrambles were endless, with very little in the way of a “trail”, at least they were manageable. In fact, several spots had natural staircases to get us to higher elevations.

But then one wrong decision.

It seemed harmless at the time.

“Let’s take the high road”, said Mr. Enthusiasm.

It started out okay. The scrambles were more challenging, with lots of climbing and jumping, but manageable.

Challenging can be fun.

Until it becomes not so fun.

I found myself walking across a narrow lip on the side of the rock. When I say narrow, I mean it was barely wider than the width of one foot. I braced myself, by leaning back into the rock, and took this picture to give a sense of the angle and drop.

The black in the lower right of the picture is my bent right leg. I’m only around 15 feet above that puddle of water you see on the upper left of the picture, but the path is terrifying.


The crack you see to the left of my leg is the path I am talking about.

And it only got worse. Mr. Enthusiasm was a few feet ahead of me. I snapped a picture of him, to illustrate how narrow the “trail” was.


He is clowning around in this picture, hanging from the rock to show his “rock climbing skills”. The actual “trail” is 6 inches or so below his feet. Yes, that tiny, narrow, little groove in the side of the rock.

After snapping this pic, I tried to make my way over.

What you don’t see in this pic is what happens to the ‘trail’ between where I am and where he is. The reason you don’t see it is because it doesn’t exist.

Even that narrow little groove disappears. You are left to find toe holds where you can. And just hope for the best, I suppose.

I froze.

I was paralyzed with fear.

He told me to turn my body around and face the mountain, shuffling along sideways, as he had done.

My issue was that I was frozen in my spot.

My fear was overwhelming.

Asking me to throw my back (left) leg over and across my body to put me in a position where I would be facing the mountain was tantamount to asking me to jump off a cliff. I felt I would most certainly die if I attempted that turn.

All I could see was the terrifying abyss below me. An abyss that felt much greater than 15-20 feet.

All I envisioned was my legs buckling, sending me flying over the edge, landing with a painful thud, on the rock floor below.

My legs are strong. Easily the strongest part of my body. My quads are rock hard. My calves, too.

My legs shouldn’t buckle. They probably wouldn’t buckle. They most likely would support me on this perilous ledge.

But I didn’t believe that they would.

I did something I rarely do. Something that is really hard for me.

I asked for help.

Come here. Help me. I need to reach for your arm, I pleaded. My voice loud, but shaking with fear.

He came over. But kept trying to convince me to turn around and face the mountain. He fired away with suggestions and recommendations. And he did it while laughing.

Laughing at me.


I will cut you.


I was so angry I couldn’t see straight. It’s hard enough for me to admit my fear, to ask for help, to show my vulnerability. To have him laugh at any of those made my blood boil.

I made it through that horrifying spot on the ‘trail’ and, eventually, to the summit.

I was rewarded with a clear view of The Strip, across the vast expanse of desert.



I sat a suitable distance from the object of my rage, munching on my trail mix and tangerines, and trying to quiet my mind so that I could reflect on how much has changed for me in the one year (+16 days) since I last sat at this summit.

He knew I was pissed. And I know he felt badly for how he had made me feel.

He offered to snap a few pictures of me for the blog.

I didn’t say a word. I didn’t even turn to look at him. I simply reached behind, offering the camera.


I tried to let go of my anger. I know he didn’t intend to hurt me.

I stood and turned, ready to head back. Ready to let go of my anger.


I understood what he was trying to do.

He was trying to break the tension. He was trying to make me laugh. He was trying to tell me that I’m stronger than I think.

His delivery left a lot to be desired, but I do get that he thought he was helping by trying to make me understand that he believed in me, and that I could do it.

I also realized that the poetic ending I was hoping for didn’t not happen because I had missed the targeted Jan 1, 2014 hike date; rather, because this wasn’t an ending at all.

My journey is far from over.

This hike showed me that I have more growing to do. Not only in learning to break through some debilitating fears, but also in learning to better handle criticism, regardless how it is delivered.

I may have succeeded in getting thinner but, the truth is, my skin still needs to grow a little thicker.

[…and fade to black]

Keep moving…

xoxo nancy

74 thoughts on “calico tanks: red rock canyon

  1. O_O oh my goodness!! that trail looks terrifying!!

    Speaking as someone who has fallen about 16ft down a rock face onto solid rocks and a stream, I know how that feels! I ended up with a broken leg and had to be carried off the mountain on a stretcher…and I got off quite lightly!

    In my fall, I was stuck and I knew I was but had to go for it anyway because my husband believed I could and I often underestimate my abilities…unfortunately the rock under my foot didn’t believe it should stay put!

    I think you did exactly the right thing, and a very brave thing by asking for help!! Even if you technically could have done it, being unsure makes you hesitant which makes you fall! Even the best ask for help!

    Really well done for completing it!!
    Really well done!!

    • I remember you telling me about falling and breaking your leg but you never shared the specifics. That must have been terrifying (and painful). I’m so glad it wasn’t worse Sam! A loose rock underfoot is incredibly dangerous, even on a flat trail. It’ll send you flying/falling every time.

      In this case, it was rock solid (pun intended) — but just super tight and narrow. I was shocked at how sure-footed he was because he’s not the most athletic guy in the world. Makes me think that a lot of this stuff is mental vs physical. I am quite sure I would have fallen because I believed I would fall. We manifest what we see in our mind’s eye…

      Apart from that 5 minutes of terror, it was a beautiful and challenging hike — and the views were worth it! It felt great to go back to where it all began.

      • yes, my fall was because I had to do a dynamic move to get up a face and the rock my foot was on came loose when I pushed down to go up…
        so much of it is mental I completely agree! I watched a program about negative suggestion in which Derran Brown (the presenter) made a top tightrope walker fall off doing something he does all the time just by putting the idea in his head that he might!

        I am so glad it was worth it, and a lovely way to round off the year even if it was late! the pictures look amazing!

      • I am not at all surprised to hear about the results of that program (Hey – I just noticed you used the American spelling of programme! :-))

        Thanks Sam – the day was great — and the pictures don’t even do justice to the beauty there. It’s my happy place! (when I’m not terrified of dying, that is)

      • I do seem to use the US spelling, I might have to stop now it has been pointed out…although in the UK that is the correct spelling if you are talking about a computer program but not a TV programme…I had to look it up in my OED! 😀

        It is always better if you are not terrified of dying in your happy place… (or at all actually)

      • Ahh, interesting on the program versus programme usage.

        It’s funny because I spell everything with a ‘u’ that needs a ‘u’ (neighbour, favour, flavour) versus the US spelling (no u). But then I adopt US spelling for things like Shop (Shoppe), Program (Programme) and the z versus s in things like Critisize (Critisise). I’m a selective British English writer. 🙂

        Oh, and it will always be pay cheque versus pay check for me.

      • I don’t think Shoppe has been in general use for quite a while even over here 😀
        I tend towards s rather than z in things like publicise even though it actually depends on the route of the word words with latin route should have one endin Greek routes should have the other, although I can never remember which! So on that one neither country is right.
        I do try to avoid american spellings where possibly, but mainly because I write technical documents for a living so am expected to!
        I tend to use the OED as the ultimate reference (in paper actual book form and everything)

      • A lot of the English idiosyncrasies come from the dual routes of the language.
        It is often ture too that the american spelling is the more original form of a word, but since they stopped being a colony the language evolution has split.

        I have read a lot about this because it often comes up in arguments…the actual problem is that noone is actually right! The Languages have been separate long enough to have their own rules and conventions 😀

        I think I spend too much time thinking about this…

      • Ha! You and me both! I find it fascinating that I’m so adamant about using the British Engligh spelling for certain words while 100% adoption of US English spelling for others. 🙂

        For the most part, as far as I’ve observed, it seems that Australians adhere much more to the British English spelling than Canadians do. I blame that on our proximity to the US (spillover). In fact, my laptop often auto-corrects my British English spelled words to the US English spelling. My phone, too. 🙂

      • I find wordpress has a US dictionary for the spell check and google so I often find myself second guessing my own spelling! If it has a UK English version I have not bothered to look for it mind you!

        It is interesting that there are so many words now that have completely different meanings in the different English speaking countries, to the point that half the time we need to explain our selves despite the alleged common language.

        Mind you I tend towards long winded phrasing and long words so much that I have to explain myself to other British people half the time any way…

  2. Wow, I would have been terrified too. I am a Florida beach girl and my husband a Virginia mountains guy. When we first were dating, we hiked a little trail on the Appalachian trail and there was one small crevice that looked huge to me. He bounced back and forth over it while I was paralyzed and just couldn’t do it. He finally helped me over but all I saw was me missing it and falling down into an abyss and getting stuck, Our fears really can control us and make us see things so much bigger and worse than they really are. Your husband sounds sweet, though I would have been mad too just as I was when Tim laughed at me that day 😉

    • Jumping over a crevice is terrifying, regardless the width. One misstep (or, as you suggest, simply having your body respond to the ideas your mind is conjuring) would be a disaster. I’m glad you made it out okay!

      In the case of this hike, the peril was quite real. A trail as wide as my foot, being up 15-20 ft off the rock floor, and then having that trail fade to nothing….that’s not the best circumstance in the world. Particularly for someone who’s mind hasn’t fully caught up with the capability of her body yet. Had I attempted that swinging leg from back to front while shifting body from back-to-mountain to front-to-mountain, I’m quite sure I would have fallen — simply because my mind told my body that’s what would happen.

      All ended well, although the hiking for the next 20 minutes was in complete silence. 🙂

  3. My palms got sweaty just reading about this ordeal. I think that eventually this will become a story you can tell with humour. Today’s disasters tend to become tomorrow’s best funny stories.
    I’m so glad you made it safely and resisted any urge you might have had to throw Mr Enthusiastic from the mountain top 🙂
    Congratulations on last year’s achievement and best wishes for 2014. It sounds like you are off to a very strong start!

    • Joanne, it’s funny, I actually saw the humour in the writing of this post last night. I initially wrote my first draft with a much more comical tone because it did make for a great (funny) story. But I realized I was doing a disservice to myself if I didn’t acknowledge the real fear, the real anger and the real act of letting go of those things, which all happened on the mountain that day.

      I damn near did kill him when we arrived at the summit and he patted a spot next to where he was sitting as a gesture of, hey cozy up and sit beside me. The daggers I shot through my eyes told him not to follow me as I made my way to that edge you see me seated on in the one pic. 🙂

      Thanks for your well wishes! It’s been an amazing year, and hopefully has set the tone for 2014 (and the rest of my life…).

  4. Tiny mountain ledges, snakes, wild animals…um, yeah, I’m leaving the hiking to you. 😉

    That sky is so unbelievably blue! Oh, what I wouldn’t give for that right about now. So much grayness around here.

    • Oh Carrie – the skies! This skies are what I miss the most when I’m not here. Our Toronto skies are so, so grey right now (and frankly quite often throughout the year). Even when it’s cold in Vegas, the skies are the most beautiful shade of blue. Puts me in an automatic good mood. Unless someone laughs at me for a legitimate fear, that is. Then not even blue skies help. 🙂

  5. Nancy, I applaud your willingness to present your fears and ‘opportunities for growth’ to us- your public 🙂 NOT an easy task, actually, I think this may be harder than the physical challenge you’ve already accomplished. You are your own therapist !! Your year has produced AMAZING results 🙂

    • Thank you, Joan. These posts are the hardest for me to write because there are a number of “real life” friends, family members and coworkers who do read the blog. It’s easier to be vulnerable in front of strangers than those close to you. At least for me.

      As I said in an earlier comment response to Joanne, I actually initially wrote this post very in a very humorous tone. It made for a funny, easy read, but it was also a cop out. I really struggled on that hike, both physically and emotionally, and it was important for me to honour those struggles with honesty.

      thank you, as always, for your unbelievable support.

  6. Wow – that was not easy! Sometimes we take on challenges that prove to be…right on the boarder of what we can accomplish…and then turn into moments that teach us something, one or another way. Provided we’ll be able to look back 🙂

    • That’s the key, I think. Are we willing to look back and see the learning?

      For me it was what happened after the dangerous spot, and even in the writing of this post (drafts 1, 2, 3…) that helped me see what was really going on, and what I was able to take away from it all.

      thanks for your sage words. I really appreciate your comment.

  7. That hike looks spectacular, as do the photos of you at the summit! As for the “trail,” I would have had the exact same meltdown and the exact same reaction to the joking and laughing. I know this, because something like this happens at least once on every hiking trip that my husband — the athletic daredevil — and I — the scared of heights princess — take. Looks like you and I both need to thicken up our skins and that both of the dudes in our life need to know when to just shut it and give us a hand.

    Congrats on your year anniversary and on the continuing journey — I can’t wait to read what happens next!

    • Good advice on both counts, PN! We could definitely stand to toughen up a bit, and they could definitely do a better job in the area of sensitivity to the situation!

      I’m just starting to plot out my monthly challenges for 2014, and now that you’ve told me where you photo was taken, I am trying to figure out how to get Glacier Nat’l Park/Montana onto my list of go-to’s for 2014!

  8. Nancy,

    Reading your adventure reminded me of a rope course I did once. It ended about 25 feet up in a tree with a platform just big enough to stand on. There was a big nail driven into the tree to hold on to as I stood with my back to the tree. The guy on the ground holding my safety rope told me my next “assignment” was to jump from the safety if the tree and grab a bar, that was attached to two other trees, that was about 6 feet in front of me. I’m not real keen on heights and apparently this showed on my face (I’m unable to hide my emotions). I let go of the nail and jumped and grabbed the bar. As I looked up, the two trees supporting the bar were swinging wildly back and forth as the bar went up and down from my sudden jump into space. Now the guy holding the rope told me to let go of the bar and he would lower me to the ground. Talk about complete trust in a stranger. As I was taking off the safety equipment, the guy holding the rope told me he thought I would never jump and he would have to pull me down from where I was standing. Once in a life time experience. Trusting others is difficult. It is even more so when that trust has been broken or we are made fun of when we are in a situation where we are frozen by our fear. This has happened way too many time for me in the last five plus years.


    • I did a similar ropes course as a team building exercise after we acquired another company many years ago. Despite the safety harnesses, ropes, etc., it was still terrifying. And, you’re right, a lot of it boiled down to trusting those holding our ropes (in my case it was new employees who were former competitors…). Now that definitely took a leap of faith!

      The hike Friday had even more danger – in that there were no ropes and nothing to break my fall onto a rocky “floor”. I’ve come to realize that my husband uses laughter as a coping mechanism. Sometimes I do it too. But in this case it felt hugely insensitive, especially when I had made it clear just how terrified I was. He felt badly afterwards, which made it easier to forgive his transgression.
      You’d think that after 30 years of being together I’d have grown used to his style… 🙂

  9. That is NOT a trail that’s a ledge. Kudos to you for doing it. I used to love hiking Red Rocks but never wandered into Calico. Congrats on the accomplishment 🙂

    • That’s the frustrating (and interesting) thing about this ‘trail’. Other than the first 1/4 to 1/2 mile, which is a clearly visible trail, once the scrambles begin, there are a million different ways to go up and come down.

      There is seriously not one correct route/path. You basically make your way however you choose. Because this terrifying area was so close to the summit, I made sure to not make that turn/decision on the way back down.

      Without a marked trail, and without GPS, it’s pretty tricky to try to remember the easy choices versus the really difficult ones. What I should have done is to look ahead, rather than down at my feet. Had I looked 20 ft ahead and seen that crazy ledge, I would have backtracked to another spot to traverse the scramble.

  10. I disagree madam. Thick skin merely hardens the heart. Rather, it’s more fun to just stop taking everything so seriously. Go with the flow, as John Candy said in Trains, Planes and Automobiles “Like a twig on the shoulders of a mighty stream”.

  11. Lordy. What on earth!! Surely you should have both been wearing full climbing gear with ropes and daggers and lots more ropes???
    You are one brave woman Nancy, even if you do still get cross when people criticise you 😉 (totally with you on that one!) X

  12. EEEK I’d have the big one. Proud of you for doing it! Your posts inspire me. I really enjoy reading your blog and have nominated you for a Liebster Award. I’m not certain if you accept awards, if not, please enjoy the compliment. If you do enjoy them, please follow the link to my post. You’ll be asked to nominate your favorite blogs/bloggers, answer my ten questions and then pass along ten of your own. Here’s my page:

  13. Nancy, I’ll tell you right now……if I had been on that tiny little ledge, I would’ve turned around. Or panicked and fallen. You are so brave to push through these things. That you got upset at Mr E is totally understandable. Whenever I’ve been in these situations, I can try to rationalize through them all I want, but sometimes nothing helps. That’s part of being human. Amazing photos. Congratulations on coming full circle. You realize how far you’ve come, and you know we’re never really finished with this thing called growth.

    • That’s just it, Andra. I couldn’t even turn around and head back. I don’t know how I found myself in that spot, but both the forward and backward options were equally terrifying.

      I’m really glad I didn’t get hurt because I’m convinced the brain is powerful enough to sabotage you. I know that if I didn’t use his arm as a security blanket I would have surely fallen. It’s the most afraid I’ve been in a long, long time.

      You’re so right…personal growth isn’t a destination. I’ll be on this journey forever.

  14. It’s a hard spot to be in, and hard to find the right thing to say to get the person to push through.
    I’ve been on both sides. Once hanging off a cliff staring at a really long fall, a couple of climbers guided me through the exit move, and encouraged me to keep going. That was probably the day I added “climber” to my name.

    In the end, you did it! And you had some with you to mark the moment (if only to take the pictures.)
    Rock on, and keep on going!

    • Guap, it was the most afraid I’ve been in as long as I can remember. I literally wanted to just close my eyes, cry, and pray that I would wake up from a bad dream. There’s the physicality component (it was a precarious position to be in, and many others have had serious injuries on this trail), but then there’s the mental aspect… My mind convinced me I would fall. Had I attempted to get across that spot without help, I would have fallen. Because my mind told me I would. At the end of the day, I used his arm as a crutch. I’m sure it didn’t really help me all that much physically, but it helped me immensely mentally.
      By the time I reached summit, I was spent.

      • I always found the mental challenge that much worse.
        The physical is relatively cut and dried for me. I’ll go as hard as I can for as long as I can.
        But the mental – that “can I do this?” is what brings me back to the adventures I love, over and over again.
        What else can I do? How much farther can I go? are what I’m looking for.
        It’s a joke, but also serious – I fully expect my last words to be “oops”, right before gravity wins.

        (Or I’ll get to make it through to old-man-hood, and be the crazy guy at the end of the bar telling the unbelievable stories.) 😉

      • I feel schizophrenic most days because I go from wanting to push harder, do more, challenge myself to scared shitless, unable to move and crying for my mommy. It’s exhausting.

  15. Wow. I felt a bit sick reading your description and looking at the pictures. You are a warrior. No doubt about it. It was good that you were able to rationalize Mr. E’s intentions. Being laughed at is hard to take. I was laughed at last week when I said something stupid. It made me dislike intensely the perpetrator for a little while. I get it. Anyway. Woohoo! Well done!

  16. Girl. Friend. Wow. I’m totally glad you are still here with us and not disabled from falling and all that. But WTF is up with this same page stuff with us? The part that really resonated with me was this:

    “This hike showed me that I have more growing to do. Not only in learning to break through some debilitating fears, but also in learning to better handle criticism, regardless how it is delivered.”

    It’s like we are in the same, cosmic classroom or something. I’m there with you, learning, growing, getting a little full of myself. Then getting reminded of how far I have to go…

    I tell you this often but I mean it every time (probably more with each saying) but you rock. You inspire me and I’m grateful beyond explanation for your words and all the good vibes you send my way. We are in this together… 😉

    • I feel the same way about you, my friend. Selfishly I am so glad you’re back to writing. I learn so much about myself from reading and internalizing your words.

      Love the idea of us sharing the same cosmic classroom. Perfect analogy.
      I can’t wait to pick out our prom dresses together. 😉

  17. OMG that is INSANE! I wouldn’t have been able to move either!!! Glad you lived to tell the tale. I wouldn5 have coped well with the laughing at the time either. You did OK. You shook it off. And you recognised how you might like to be different for next time. My t
    Old therapist reckons that’s the first step to chamge: seeing. 🙂 You rock, Nance. Don’t ever think you don’t just because you feel you need to tweak here and there. We all do. We are hopefully always evolving xox

    • We are always evolving, you’re right about that! I am a very harsh critic on myself. Part if my growth is learning when the criticism is justified and productive to my growth and when it’s just unhealthy.
      I think it’s pretty cool that we are always growing, learning, evolving. Although some of the lessons are harder (and more dangerous) than others.

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  19. I happen to feel very strongly about full circle tales. Full circles are like a form of measurement because we can return to a fixed point in time or space and clearly see what has changed within us. There have been times I have returned to certain places expecting the experience would be very poignant because of what that place represented to me. The expectations would work up this idea in my head of how it would all play out (singing birds, brilliant sunsets and nirvana moments). I expected it to leave me feeling a certain way, only to be left searching for a feeling that wouldn’t come. And there have been times I have almost felt let down because I didn’t have a stronger experience or it didn’t turn out the way I had imagined, which is really just being let down by my own expectations.

    I guess sometimes past markers of monumental time or place (or in your case, both) create a desire for a perfect moment to serve as tribute to all the significance those markers represent. But maybe the significance rests more within our own self than in any one point in time or place. I like thinking that your experience back at the special place, even if slightly different than you had expected, was actually a perfect symbol. It’s a reminder that just because you have completed your goal doesn’t mean the journey is over. It’s not going to suddenly be easy. There’s no real finish line. Instead, it’s an endless path of challenges that, if accepted, become opportunities.

    Who knows, maybe a year ago you would have turned back.

    So congratulations to you on all of your personal accomplishments in the last year, as well as your ability to overcome this specific one. ☺

    On another note, I cannot tell you how many times this exact scenario has played out with me and my boyfriend. I do not like heights, so it’s always him looking back at me as I am frozen in some awkward position unable to move a muscle. And he’s always laughing and encouraging me, acting like there is not a care in the world. Meanwhile, I am perched in terror preparing for my death. But then once I have worked up that courage to move and am standing on top of that summit, looking out at earth from a point that I could only get to on my own two feet… there’s nothing like it.

    • You’re right Jayme, the realization that this is a continuing journey was a great learning in my coming full circle hike. …And also means that the circle is unending. One loop done, many more to go!

      And I hear ya on the sense of accomplishment when you get to the summit of a great and challenging hike. No feeling like it in the world!

      Thanks for stopping by, and for taking the time to provide such a thoughtful comment. I appreciate it more than you know.

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  21. Holy moly. I’m a Colorado girl and have hiked my share of the Rockies, but I would have been terrified with nothing more than you had under you. Still, you did it. You learned a lot about yourself in the process and I bet your skin is a little thicker now, too. Still, congratulations. I’d consider this hike a real achievement.

    • The technical scrambles were very challenging. My higher elevation hikes at Mt. Charleston challenge in different ways (lung capacity, etc.) but Red Rock Canyon delivers a lot of technical challenge.

  22. All in all, it sounds like a wonderful experience, culminating with some extraordinary photos. I know that I would have been fearful of those challenges, and I’m not sure if I could have done what you’ve done.

    • Some of my hiking fears are well justified, and there is a real danger. Other times it’s just my own mental blockers that paralyze me, literally, into a frozen state. I’m trying to sort through which is which so I can fight through the bullshit ones and respect the real ones. (And keep myself alive and unbroken in the process!)

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