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come so accustomed to looking out onto 2000-foot-drops, that these edge-walking experiences became mundane. (Well… not quite mundane.)

The Boucher Trail, on the other hand, offered "miles" of this kind of exposed trail. And frankly, this was not a favorite contemplation of mine. Moreover, there was the Travetine Gorge ("Travetine") to climb down. It was reputedly a steep descent (hands and knees or on your butt) along a cliff face overlooking the abyss and the Colorado River.

While "g" may be the adventurous La Bella Brother, I generally considered myself to be the "reasonable" one. The thought of my ass hanging-out over a 3000 foot cliff (where merely turning and bumping my pack against the trail wall would catapult me out into thin air) was not something I was particularly interested in. At the outset, I indicated to "g" that if we reached Travetine or any other part of the Boucher that over-whelmed my senses… I was out of there! I'd just meet him back at the top. (Visions of soaking in a hot tub in one of the suites at the El Tovar Lodge would be just enough of a remedy to massage my bruised ego from turning tail and passing-up on the cliff-face-tripping-debacle… that was sure to happen!)

In any case, the Internet proved to be a valuable resource for some initial trail itinerary research (typical, right). I turned up some interesting facts and a raging debate amongst experienced hikers about the term "exposure." Typically, "exposure" is defined as a relative position of a hiker's body to imminent doom by falling. Picture a bunch of guys from Upstate New York walking Knife Edge (ME) with two-thousand foot drops to either side of the trail. That's pretty high exposure. Better yet, picture two (delirious) hikers walking along the Boucher trail on a path reputedly 8 inches wide with a cliff wall to your left and a sheer 3000-foot drop on your right. That's exposure - exactly the kind I wanted to avoid.

Another bit of Internet research turned up the following, little know fact. The Jogging LaBella Brothers had planned their trip during "peak rattlesnake mating season." Now, if you've ever done any hiking in the desert, there are just a few things you don't want to run afoul of:

1. running out of water,

2. no hat,

3. no suntan lotion,

4. scorpions,

5. tarantulas (the small biting kind), and…

6. RATTLESNAKES

I've never had a problem with snakes. I mean… I live in the desert! "g," however, has a mortal fear of the little fellas (see his article on "desensitization therapy" at G-WeBconnect for more information). Since I was afraid of taking a header off the Boucher Trail, a fear which "g" took great pains to reinforce, I figured a little bit of rattlesnake fever would do him some good. So, I began to send him information directly from the web about rattlesnakes, rattlesnake poison and recent deaths from rattlesnakes at the Grand Canyon. [RB-One-Kenobi's note: only 10 people a year die from snakebites in the US and none have died at the GC… ever! But "g" didn't have to know that… heh, heh…] Secretly I hoped he'd chicken out and spare me the ignominy of having to turn around