Photo Gallery: An Arizona Monsoon Hike up Devil's Chasm Gives Us Just What We Wanted

Way out there a July monsoon dumps down rain over Roosevelt Lake as seen from the bluff over Parker Canyon

It's been a long time since I've been on a hike without my daughter. I'd nearly forgotten the outright freedom of taking a walk in a desert canyon with a camera as the only thing tugging on my arm and begging to be held.  And I'd definitely forgotten the way a hike - one in which you have no child along for whom you're responsible - step by step slowly lets the conversation in your head take priority.  I could call it "searching for the meaning of life" but that's not accurate.  Time alone is antioxidant.

It's a good thing my three-year-old wasn't here for this hike up Devil's Chasm. The 2.5-mile one-way hike up a narrow canyon at the beginning of monsoon season would have been, uh, problematic with her.  The rain dumped down on the four of us (four dudes who'd gotten out of dad duty for the day) right as we were at the furthest point.

Spencer does what he needs to do to protect his shutter finger and tripod on this sketchy part of the hike.
I - along with a new friend, Spencer - clamored around the sketchy, crumbling shale ledges that supposedly led to the ruin site after the steep hike and a short, exposed climb.  It was work; we had to do our own route finding while hoofing up a steep and loose hillside with no visible target.  We were largely relying on luck to guide us to the cliff dwelling site.

When the sounds of God-Wakes-Up echoed through the canyon's walls and the clouds darkened, we abandoned the project.  A July monsoon was immanent.  The only thing we didn't know was how much time we had to get down the slick rock rappels before the rain fell.  We bailed fast.

I was shimmying my way down the first slick slab when the rain began.  Like good champs, Aaron and Chris - two other friends who'd come along on this trip - waited for us near tree cover about 2 miles from the trailhead so we could all hike out together.

Every step of the way, the rain pounded us. Mud caked our shoes and left several downhill sections perilous.  All the way back to the trucks.  For a collection of photographers, this wasn't bad news, believe it or not.  This was freaking great news. Once at the trailhead, we pointed the tires toward the bluff above Parker Canyon because it would be a shoo-in for stunning photos.

Yes, we were soggied and hungry and beaten by high hopes of finding a remote cliff dwelling.  We'd left behind our duties as dads for an entire day.  Arguably, we were a sad tripod-toting bunch of bastards.

At the end of the day, Spencer cut the ripening fruit off a prickly pear cactus and brought them over.  He cleaned off the thorns, sliced them in half and passed them out.  We feasted, in more ways than one, on the small things that the desert provided this day. No regrets.