This trip is a 16 day Geology focused raft trip. It is double the length in days of my previous trips, travelling 226 miles of the Canyon by man (and woman) powered oar boats rather than the motorized rafts I have previously taken. As with previous trips, there are lots of photos here of river, rocks, and sky. I'm not even going to attempt to journalize the trip, nor keep the pictures in any chronological order, but group a few of my favorites by type, and add some descriptions. We started out the trip on a beautiful, sunny, if a little cool, early October morning. At the early pickup in Flagstaff there was a light frost on the ground, so we were all rather relieved to reach the lower elevation of Lees Ferry and warmer temperatures. There had been rain storms and flash flooding in this area over the past several days, but we started out into the rising Marble Canyon in sunshine, and the clear blue green water coming from Glen Canyon Dam. However, that was the last blue water we saw! Within the first mile, the muddy flow of the Paria River joined the Colorado.
The trip transportation was seven 18' passenger oar rafts, one dory, and one gear raft. Our crew was very experienced, and included Trip Leader Brian, who has over 300 canyon trips, Bill driving the Dory, part owner of the company, but would never own up to how many trips, Gil driving the baggage boat, two Ericka's (actually one with a C, and one with a K), Robbie, Walt, Tom, and Trey, who was the second boatman on my first motorized trip back in 2004 (so I blame him for a part of this addiction!). As well as being great boatman, they were also good cooks, and displayed other musical and artistic talents. An awesome bunch. In addition to the crew was "work along", Rich, and Ross in an inflatable kayak, who hiked out at Phantom Ranch. The trip was led by Geologist Ivo Lucchita, and an additional 24 passsengers. It was a large group, but never really felt that way as we were spread out over the 9 boats. This was a great group of folks to travel with.
Mud played a big part in the trip. It's hard to imagine just how much, unless you were there, slipping and sliding, and gingerly trying to hop from rock to rock without getting sucked into it. In general there were several inches of slippery slimy silt covering the more solid base sand at the water's edge. My shoes were sucked off my feet several times while embarking/disembarking, collecting water, etc. Fortunately I was able to recover them, and a half pound of sticky red brown goo, each time. I actually managed to never slip and fall all the way down into the mud, confining myself just to several slides, but many did end up down in it.
The mud and sand gets in everything, and it was futile trying to wash it out during the trip. The river water we used for washing was the same muddy brown concoction that was making everything muddy in the first place. By the time we returned to Flagstaff my clothes bag was probably a pound or so heavier with it. The first hot water laundry run through the washing mahine just spread the mud around in orange splotches, several runs through later, there is still sand in the washing machine and dryer afterwards. I'm sure eventually it will wash out.
We saw only a couple of Big Horn sheep, but a variety of other wildlife. There were several Blue Herons (or one that followed us all the way), some Mule Deer, a RoadRunner, and a wild Turkey. I missed the picture of the road runner and turkey. We even had a small bird hitch a ride on an oar as we approached Duebendorf rapid. Boatman Tom was reluctant to dip the oar and dislodge the bird, but fortunately for us, it decided to fly off before the critical moment when steering was required.
As mentioned, after the first mile the river was brown. Actual hues ranged from slightly muddy, through chocolate milk, to deep red. Beautiful, but messy.
And then there were the rapids. They look so much more violent in brown! Every trip deserves a good Lava story, so here is ours. After 170 miles of river, we all think we are getting good at this rafting stuff: No-one had involuntarily entered the water yet, and apart from Trey's close up inspection of the Muav limestone outcrop early in the trip, Erica's little detour round the left side of Bedrock, and a couple of other little bumps and scrapes, we have had no mishaps. But you can't underestimate Lava Falls. So the boats all stop and scout the best route. The water is apparently at about 12k cfs (cubic feet per second) and as at Crystal Rapid, "it's a little crunchy", there is no really great obvious run. Eventually though, the boatman are reasonably happy with the run they have picked - all are going right. Us passengers are once again given the "sit down, shut up, hang on, prepare to bail" speach, and we're ready to run. Our boat has Walt driving, and three passengers up front to put the weight up there to help us punch through the waves: Joe, Genie, and Shan. I'm safely ensconced in the back, with instructions not to fly out, but if I do, try to miss hitting the oarsman and other passengers on the way out!
So the run is lined up, and we're sucked rapidly into the melee. Suddenly there is this towering wall of V wave hanging above us, and coming our way. Everyone ducks (it's reflexive) and we when come back out I look up. I'm still hanging on, and still in the boat. Unfortunately Walt (remember him, he's the one supposed to be getting us out of this alive) is gone! In my own words "Oh shit! We lost our rower!" Now despite the fact that no-one up front is really sure what a "rower" is, (maybe I could have said "boatman", "captain", "oarsman", or something more descriptive), they got the message anyway. They all turn around and also discover that we're missing something quite crucial. So the next 10 seconds are a chaotic panic: Joe went to jump in the driver's seat, and at the same time saw Walt hanging on the side of the boat and attempted to pull him in. The waves are still crashing over us, and now Joe is down on the low side of the raft pulling weight, when what we should be doing is high siding into the wave to prevent us from flipping. The upper oar is waving around dangerously. I'm pretty darn useless in any way, cause I'm hanging on in the back, out of reach, but also out of the way of the flapping oar. Shan is yelling "HI-side" and "grab the oar", and Genie is apparently feeling as shell shocked and useless as I am. I think I managed the high side when it was yelled. We didn't flip anyway.
Joe and Shan finally haul Walt back in the boat, but our left oar is jammed in the oarlock and useless. During the attempt to free it, Joe takes a serious oar crack to the jaw, spurring the next great quote of the day "Dude, I think you just broke my jaw.". Fortunately, we drifted helplessly but harmlessly out of the way of the holes, the waves, and the rocks. The oar was recovered, and with a few strokes we washed out at the bottom of Lava. Joe's jaw was not broken, but nicely bruised, and Walt lost only a flip flop and suffered only a jarred back. After a brief "Yee-Ha" yell at the bottom, with adrenaline running strong, and needless to say, a fair amount of water in the boat, we were issued the command to "BAIL". By the time we could come up for air almost all the boats were through. They all seemed to get pretty good rides, and apparently the passengers in the front Dory seats hardly even got splashed. Go figure!
At Nankoweap, one of my favorite places in the Canyon because it is so photogenic, I skipped out on the afternoon group hike up to Granaries for some sun worshipping on a small beach, but hiked up alone later in the evening hoping for some photos without people in. Unfortunately for me, I was caught and passed by another lone hiker from a private group camped in Lower Nankoweap. His name was Gabriel, and by the time I finally made it to the Granaries he was sitting drawing. I didn't disturb him. I guess I'll have to go back again to get my peopleless photos! Did I mention the rain? We had a couple of cold and wet rainy days in the first week or the trip. Now it may seem strange to even have to mention cold and wet on a rafting trip. After all, the river is always cold, and you know and expect you'll get wet in the rapids! So why even mention it? Because it rained the day we traversed the Upper Granite Gorge, from Hance Rapid to Phantom Ranch. The Canyon in this area is hard steep rock, and when it rains, red water pours down the black gorge rocks in temporary waterfalls. It is incredibly beautiful watching and hearing this canyon erosion at work. Despite being cold and wet, we were loving it!
Even on the days it didn't rain on us, the sky was sometimes quite threatening or pretty with storm clouds at night. All the creeks running from the north side of the gorge were flowing with deep red water, and as we passed by the bottom of Clear Creek a wall of rocks, tree limbs, mud and debris flashed out of the side canyon. As the rain eased off after lunch we arrived at Phantom Ranch. Several of us made a quick trip up to the Canteen. Bright Angel Creek was flooding vigorously and dramatically red (unfortunately I had left the camera on the raft). The foot trail to the Ranch was a muddy slosh of rainwater and mule dung. After completing the postcard and phone call chores, I hurried back down the trail, scaring up a wild Turkey as I did so. I think it interpreted my quickened pace as a chase. After running down the trail in front of me for a while, it turned to make a stand, then ran at me with feathers flapping. I'm very glad to have been the last to leave, there was no-one else around to have caught in glorious color the battle of a rock hopping, dung avoiding, bedraggled woman defending herself against a flapping turkey while determinedly protecting the slightly drier outer clothes in one hand and a lidless cup of hot Earl Grey in other!
We spent two nights at Bass Camp, and hiked to the old Bass site on the day in between. The camp was a major Grand Canyon tourist site in the past. Tourists would hike down from the South rim, be carried over the river in a cable car, then hike into and stay at Bass Camp. Old metal and glass artifacts from the tourist heyday are displayed under an overhang at the site.
Aside from the impromptu red on black waterfall display in the Upper Gorge, we did not get a chance to see as many waterfalls on this trip as I had in the past. Slot Canyons are not a great place to play when it is stormy! But after the runoff had calmed down, and the creeks returned to clear babbling streams we managed to squeeze in a few permanent falls.
Around the middle of the trip, on a sunny day, but in a shaded and cold part of the canyon we stopped at the Ledges for lunch. The Ledges was in the sun, and there was a small but clear spring flowing over the edge of the canyon above us, dropping in steps down to the edge of the river below. The final drop was directly onto the sand (and mud) about 3 feet from the river's edge. By standing on a rock it wasn't even too muddy on the feet. If this had been an overnight spot it would have made a perfect shower of clean and cool (but not as cold as the river) water, and there would have been a line of all the females on the trip waiting to wash their hair. Probably most of the men too. I don't think anyone else saw it, and I didn't have any soap handy, but I managed a quick refreshing soapless shower in it anyway. All In all, an awesome trip. When can I go back?
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