A Fool’s Guide to Outdoor Recreation—Or,

How Not to Vacation

It is a well-known fact among seasoned explorers and armchair adventurers alike that when setting forth into the wild, one should carry a stout heart, a keen eye, and, if they possess a lick of sense, an understanding of the general principles of gravity. Alas, the hiker recently plucked from the rocky heights of Gateway Canyon seems to have lacked that last bit of wisdom and, as a result, found themselves perched upon a ledge, hollering their predicament to the heavens like a lonesome coyote with a sore throat.

Now, in the great outdoors, there are many ways to attract attention—some more dignified than others. A man might light a signal fire, wave a bright cloth, or, in particularly dire circumstances, compose a note of distress and entrust it to a passing eagle. But our intrepid vacationer took the more direct approach of bellowing at the top of their lungs until a kind passerby took notice and gave the matter to the ever-obliging authorities of the Las Vegas Metropolitan Police Department Search and Rescue.

Upon arrival, these rescuers quickly determined that climbing up to retrieve the hiker would be about as practical as convincing a cat to take a bath. The unfortunate soul was some 400 feet above the trail, clinging to his perch like a barnacle on a ship’s hull, and required a helicopter. Two officers, who undoubtedly spent their formative years ignoring their mothers’ warnings about playing on rooftops, were lowered into the precarious scene.

By the grace of modern engineering and no small amount of patience, the rescuers employed a device known as a “lezard”—which, contrary to what the name suggests, is not a reptilian creature with an unusual work ethic, but rather a technical rescue lanyard designed for precisely these sorts of misadventures. With this contraption, they managed to hoist the hiker up and away from his predicament, depositing him safely at a nearby fire station, where he was greeted with expressions ranging from sympathy to quiet exasperation.

Gateway Canyon, for those unfamiliar, lies a mere twenty miles west of Las Vegas, proving that while Lady Luck may be generous at the gaming tables, she has no patience for those who gamble against common sense in the great outdoors. One can only hope that our daring wanderer has learned a valuable lesson—that when venturing into the wild, it is wise to respect both the land and one’s limitations, lest one’s vacation become a spectacle requiring helicopters and highly trained professionals to correct.