Two things made me high: contact with Moabian sandstone and the knowledge that I overcame route-finding difficulties to reach this spot. The former is dealt with in detail in the gallery about Sandstone Deprivation Syndrome. The latter is a product of off-trail travel among these fins and valleys.

A few years earlier I had first glimpsed this valley and it looked intimidating, no doubt influenced by my position at a precipice and my fear-of-heights reaction thereto. Thus I called it "deep valley." On a later trip to this area I saw it again and heard it call to me. A result of that call was examining the valley from a ledge about 50 feet above my position in the photo. That examination made me realize two things: 1) the valley wasn't all that deep and 2) the terrain under the white dot looked like an easy route into the valley.

I was right about the first realization but wrong about the second. Earlier this day I had pushed my way through the brush under the white dot, certain that I was about to reach the valley. NOT. It was a dead end: the descent route was way too steep. But from that spot at the bottom of the "V" I spied another brushy route (out of view to the right) leading down into the valley. That other route was fairly easy to negotiate and got me into the deep valley. Having print-outs of Google Earth views helped me navigate.

Later I got even higher when I discovered a way to hike out of a lower portion of this valley rather than retrace my steps.

This view, made possible by the steady stance of Joe Tripod, looks about south. He gets high by being still.

My vantage point was at the center of this WikiMapia aerial view.