[leadin]I held a loaded backpack over my head and inched along an unseen ledge, nipple-deep in freezing water. My skin scraped against stone, the edge of a slot canyon threatening to push me down.[/leadin]

A slip would mean swimming, a wet pack, and, under the gaze of my fellow canyoneers, some wounded pride.
We were three days into a trip in the Cedar Mesa region of Utah. My legs ached but, amazingly, my hair was still dry. A bit more struggling and I cleared the obstacle in the slot, escaping with little more than numb feet. I strapped my pack on again and continued into the depths.
I’d come with a group of 13 outdoor enthusiasts on the invite of Osprey Packs to the remote reaches of Gravel Canyon. For the trip, we would wind through a dozen miles of twisting, boulder-strewn slickrock, slots, and washes — an excellent venue to test gear and experience wilds few people ever see.
The trip started when we dropped into a side slot near the main maw of Gravel Canyon. Immediately, with my body pushed between a constriction, I realized the trip would entail a lot of thrashing, grinding against rocks, and moving through terrain not always friendly to gear.



