This is another image from a recent Artist Date. I take Artist Dates most weeks, exploring places within an hour or two drive. You can’t really see it well from this angle, but in the shadow of the boulder there’s a whole to pass through to continue on the hike down the wash to the Colorado River (although at this inlet, it’s considered part of the Lake Mojave.)

Just before this boulder blocking the way, there was another boulder blocking the way. I’d never done this hike before and wondered if the entire route through the canyon would be blocked with these big boulders. It’s difficult to tell from pictures without people in them just how big  things are, but this rock is probably 10-12 feet.

One of the challenges for me when I’m out alone on these hikes is risk taking. How much risk am I willing to take. The truth is, very little. When I arrived at the first boulder blocking the path, I contemplated if I could make it through and how to do that, as well as how to get back out and what that might look like. I accepted that challenge. And, then, just about the bend was this second challenge. Again, assessment. Go under or even over. With this one, I had a fear of Pooh in the honey tree, but of course, these spaces were plenty big enough. It’s just the challenge of assessing.

Then, the rest of the hike was just down the wash. The canyon was wide all the way to the water. But, you don’t know what’s ahead. You can’t always know. And, even if you’ve read about it or had someone explain it to you, when you’re out in it, it’s you and your assessment, your perspective. What do you do? Move forward? Usually. Take risks? Some. Knowing your abilities is important. Taking calculated risks is fine when it comes to a writer building a sentence. Not usually life or death with that outcome. But, when going over or under a boulder in a deserted wash 75 miles from home, that’s a different thing.