Go back to Jordan
The sky is clear and star filled. The fire is giving off steady warmth. The beat up hands and fingers are a familiar sensation. As is the crunch of sand between our teeth. We hear the muezzin and his evening call to prayer from the village below. We smile. Not Utah , that’s for sure. We take stock of our food – an orange and a candy bar. Half a bottle of water. Life is good. Our chasing of the daylight ended at about 6:30. Just a couple of rappels and a 30 minute hike separate us from our tent in the village below. We’re at the bottom of a hanging gully most of the way down (the complex) Hammad’s Route. Failed to locate the rap anchors in the encroaching darkness. We’re sprawled out comfortably on rope mats woven from our twins (thanks Mazamas rescue class). There’s a pile of deadwood to be rationed through the night. We’ve been in Wadi Rum for a week now and here we are – benighted. We smile again. This is fucking awesome!