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The Mythical Season Opener

It had been altogether way too long for this.

After somewhat discretely changing in the parking lot on the side of the highway, I grab my pack filled with camping and paddling gear and swing it over my back. The weight feels like an embrace from an old friend and I smile as I take my first steps forward and feel my legs adjust to the weight and balance of the bohemeth. I look around and count seven of my closest friends slowly taking the same measured steps as we begin our jaunt down into the canyon.

We’ve all been here before. We all know that there is a short, easy walk down to the water punctuated only by the ocassional steep section of ball bearing covered slopes. We all know there will be people at Lone Palm. There used to not be, it was just enough off the beaten path, but things have changed. This year we know there is a couple right in front of us, the parking lot has several cars and it’s just expected, but we also know that it’s gonna be ok. We didn’t come to stay on this side of the river. Where we’re headed is still just enough off the beaten path.

Or so we hope. A lot can change in two years.

The Season Opener has been enshrined in Mooseknuckler Cycling Alliance tradition. It started as a great way to celebrate the one and only Mama Bear and her day/week/month of birth. There’s been several iterations on the theme, but the one that stuck is this. Hike down into the Black Canyon below Hoover Dam, paddle around the “river” to various hot springs and attractions, camp at the best of these hot springs, soak, drink beer and otherwise make merry.

It’s probably stuck because it’s an absolutely amazing way to spend a weekend outside in January. The canyon is almost always in the high 50s/low 60s during the day. There aren’t too many people and the hot springs make up for the cold that you might experience in the morning. Plus, it’s relatively easy. The hike in takes about an hour. It has its moments of “fuck this ball bearing hill” but generally goes with little effort. Then a quick paddle, set up camp and we see how things play out. Then reverse everything the next morning and eat out before heading home.

It’s quick, easy, dirty and has a very high reward for such little effort which is kind of clinch as a season opener.

After securing our campsite and having a bight to eat, Mama Bear and I can’t see any reason not to go have a soak. We head up the canyon joking that it would be crazy if Topham was there again. We round the corner and see a camp. It looks like everyone is taking a nap after a soak. We get to the springs, enjoy a good soak and then decided to head back down to see what everyone else is doing. We round the corner back to the aforementioned camp and who is sitting there, Topham himself. We have a good laugh together. If memory serves, this is the third time we’ve ran into him on our Season Opener. Apprently, we all have the same itch to scratch in January.

As we come around the corner to camp, I can see four Mooseknucklers sunning themselves on the rocks like a group of goddamn lizards. I can’t help but laugh at the sight. They are being chased by the shade, and very much like actual lizards, have slowly made there way to the tippy top of the light. Mama Bear and I quickly join them.

Once the shade is gone, there’s really only one thing left to do. We head back up the canyon for a soak eyeballing possible firewood on the way up. Seeing that we have all been living right and that god loves Mooseknucklers, he has gathered and left a perfect bundle in one little corner of the canyon. I note its location to snag it on my way down. The Topham Crew is in the hot springs but makes room for us.

After a good hearty soak, we head back down to camp. I snag the bundle of firewood which is located just above the 2nd waterfall. I guess that’s why it was there. Someone gathered it only to realize they couldn’t get it down, well, I can. I scoop it up and make my way down the waterfall with just one arm to brace myself. It’s not graceful, but it’s doable and soon we are at camp with some firewood. I spend the next little bit gathering whatever else I can find and we soon have a respectable stash of wood. It doesn’t look like it will last too long, but it’s better than nothing.

We gather around and get the fire going. Soon Kenny pulls out the Uke and serenades us. Just as the shit shooting and deep hobo philosophizing is winding down, we get some visitors. There are several mice running up toward the fire. They are aggressive and don’t seem to care too much about us, rather, they seem to expect to find food around the flames. We watch, swat them away, there’s a Shelby Dance when one ends up directly under his chair. They provide a good half hour of entertainment. And then we’re all out.

One of our mandatory rituals is to drink our coffee in the hot spring on the 2nd morning. About 30-45 minutes before the sun starts to light the canyon, the group begins to stir. You can hear pans clanking, zippers doing zipper things, backpacks rustling, and pretty soon we are slowly walking up a dark canyon by headlight toward the hot tub. It’s cold, but the stream we are walking through comes from the hot spring so it’s at least warm and knowing there is hot water to soak in makes it all worth it.

Usually, we make the coffee while sitting in the hot spring. I’ve never liked this and instead decide I’m going to freeze a little longer and make the coffee before I get in. This gets me to thinking. The 2nd best place to make coffee is in bed. 2nd, of course, only to in a hot spring. Downside to making it in a hot spring is it’s precarious. I don’t think we’ve ever lost any coffee, but that’s because we’re pro. It doesn’t mean it couldn’t happen. So as I am standing in the cold wearing a swimsuit and a puffy jacket, it dawns on me that I could make coffee in the warmth of my sleeping bag, put it in a thermos (I’d have to bring that next time) and then simply plop into the hot spring and serve hot coffee with little fuss. Yes, this was the great Coffee in a Thermos Epiphany of 2025.

One cup turned to two. And two turned into we are out of coffee. Two cups of coffee in a hot spring is just about perfect. We were all prunified anyway, so we reversed the jaunt back to camp thinking we would make a fire.

Upon arrival, the sun is just hitting the beach and being tucked in puffy layers and lounging in it feels great. No fire needed. Breakfast is had and then we drag our feet in packing up. No one wants to or is planning on another night, but we are also in no hurry to leave. Once the natural sequence of breaking down camp is over, we board our little boats and paddle back to Lone Palm.

With our gear yard sale in full swing, people start filing onto the beach. Pretty soon there’s like 30 people. One of them asks Cami if she slept down here. Cami replies yup, did you? Smart ass and absolutely nailed the delivery. The lady isn’t quite sure what to do but answers in the negative and then moves on to where the Meetup Group has gathered.

Out the canyon we go walking, accompanied now by the Meetup Group. An hour later and we are at the cars, no windows were broken in our absence and we toss everything in and agree to a final stop at the Dillinger.

The season is now officially open. Apparently, not opening it last year in the appropriate way kept it closed as this was our first backpacking trip together in almost two years.

Altogether, way too long.

Embrace Chaos. Seek Discomfort.

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