This one looked a little tamer:
It was still a monster, with long stretches of 40 percent grade. To give you an idea, after six minutes I had already climbed this high above the lake:
But I could barely notice my heart pounding because the trail looked like this:
Once I got to the top things leveled out a little and I could actually run instead of hike/climb/crawl.
By the time I made it to the peak my lungs were ragged so I took a short photo break. This is the trail I had just wrestled into submission...
...and this is the view from the top. Not a bad climb in just twelve minutes!
I decided to take a different way down by running along the ridge and going down that scary trail I considered going up. I don't know why but there is a big white cross at the end of it which looks rad perched like it is.
When I reached the cross this was the view back up the canyon. This is why I love this spot so much.
The way down wasn't actually a trail, but some kind of dried up river bed. It was crazy steep and made of this loose, crumbling clay which was about the most dangerous terrain possible. I walked most of the way down to keep myself from snapping a leg.
At the end I could cool off by jumping into the reservoir and unwind by sitting in the sun sipping an ice-cold Arctic Shatter Powerade. So, yeah, it was basically perfect.