After six hours of bushwhacking through the steepest, gnarliest forest I’ve ever encountered, we arrived at the bottom of the canyon. Hidden in the shadowy depths of the Devil’s Staircase Wilderness, we’d found the eponymous waterfall at last. Above us, the cool waters of Wasson Creek cascaded down a series of stone ledges, dappled with the waning sunlight, while the silent forest towered above us.

This peaceful moment was eclipsed, however, by one thought: we still had to climb back out – probably in the dark, with no trail to follow. And one of our group members was already near exhaustion.