Early this morning we were awake and raring to go. We rechecked the bags, dug into the complimentary doughnuts, juice, and coffee. The other guests who would be our companions for the trip trickled into the lobby shortly afterwards. The bus soon arrived to transport us to the north Las Vegas airport, where we were checked in, bags weighed, and we were assigned seats for the plane ride to Marble Canyon.
The flight was interesting, the skies rather cloudy and windy. I did not get any pictures due to a bad setting on my camera (fortunately this problem was quickly discovered on landing). I managed to follow our course over Lake Mead and the Kaibab plateau using the AZ road map. The weather disintegrated as we passed over SR89A and House Rock, and, concentrating on the bouncing of the plane and looking southwards for the first glimpse of the river I did not anticipate the descent over the north canyon rim. It was a spectacular plunge, with the red canyon wall suddenly appearing on the north side of the plane making almost everyone gasp with surprise. Soon the river appeared briefly through a side canyon, then the patched blacktop airstrip was in sight and we were landing. I was rather glad that the bumpy flight was over, and very glad that Mark had not been with me: He would not have enjoyed that flight!
We were met at the plane by three cute looking, early twenties, ‘kids’ who we immediately assumed to be ground helpers, to see us through our repacking, breakfast, transfer to the river, etc. We soon found out that they were all that and more. The three, 1st boat guide and trip leader, Trey, 2nd boat guide, and Lindsey, swamper. No grizzly old boat guys for us! I confess that at first I was a little concerned about the driving experience that these three young people could have. I had been determined to get down in the Grand Canyon since my last trip to Vegas about 18 months ago. Doing research, I had decided that the best way to see it all would have to be by boat, but was rather anxious about the rapids. If there had been an alternate, non rapids, mode of transport available I would certainly have taken it. I had finally decided on a motor trip due to the reputed stability of the larger boats, and the experience of the boatmen. All those concerns resurfaced when I saw this young crew. We were taken to the porch of a large house in Marble Canyon, and instructed in the art of transferring our river gear into two bags: A large bag for clothes changes, bathroom and personal gear which would be stowed away and not accessible during the day, and a smaller bag for items needed during the day. Both bags were rubber with foldover waterproof closures. Each bag set of bags was numbered. I was E6 and MaryBeth E4.
While we were finishing a quick refresher breakfast of bagels, juice, and coffee, TJ gave us an orientation to our upcoming adventure, and our bags were loaded into the vans for transport to the river. We were given a final opportunity to visit the store in Marble Canyon to purchase Beer, last minute supplies, or to walk ¼ mile to the Navajo bridge on US89 to get our first “up close” look at the river. We didn’t need beer, and had already packed away our money anyway, so we chose to walk down to the bridge. The original Navajo Bridge is now a footbridge only and a new road bridge parallels it on the downstream side. It was great to see the river up close, only around 500’ down anyway, and confirm that it was running clear and green.
As we walked back to be picked up, the first van load, with Trey and Lindsey, passed us on their way down to the river. We hurried back to the house to find TJ waiting for us and about 6 others who had chosen to shop or visit the bridge and had not yet returned. During this wait for the second van we had a chance to grill TJ about his river experience. I felt much less anxious after discovering that his father had been a river guide and he had practically grown up on the river and had over 60 trips down the Colorado.
At the river at Lee’s Ferry, more orientation, including the correct fitting of life jackets, boat safety, how to get on and off, etc.. We also received a short talk from a United States Geological Survey rep. The USGS is conducting a survey of the river, both from the air and several rafts, one of which was tied up next to our two rafts in the process of loading, and several which had already launched. Their survey will determine water depths and levels, and the content of the riverbed. The boats were equipped with specialized measuring equipment, and a small aircraft would be flying at approx 4500’ above the river between Glen Canyon Dam and Phantom Ranch for the next several days. Such low flyovers of the river and Canyon are apparently not generally allowed. We actually saw the plane several times over the course of the next few days, but it did not disturb our enjoyment of the canyon.
As well as the special flyover permission the USGS had also arranged to have the water release from Glen Canyon Dam held at a steady 8000 cubic feet per second (cfs). This would mean that the river levels would remain steady and low for the first several days of our trip. The usual flow would have fluctuated depending on electricity demand. The flow immediately before our trip fluctuated between 7,000 and 13,000 cfs. After the talk we experience our first boat loading “duffle shuffle” which involves EVERY able bodied trip member passing personal duffels along a fire line to the boat crew who stow them on the boats. The duffle piles are then covered with an additional waterproof tarp. The pile makes a great seating for all but the roughest rapids. I was to find out fairly early in the trip that this was a great vantage point for watching the shallow river, and even later in the trip get some great rapids rides.
The main purpose for this trip, for me, was the scenery of the Grand Canyon. I was prepared to put up with the rapids of the Colorado to allow me the opportunity to see the canyon, but I was not particularly looking forward to the actual rapids experience. MaryBeth and I both took seat close to the back of the boat where the rapids experience is reputedly less intense than the frontmost seating. The boats pushed off and we started down the river. The weather was wonderful. The water was clear, and green, and very shallow. You could see the rocky bottom clearly. We passed several groups of people fishing who had climbed down from the rim only a couple of hundred feet above.
We experience our first riffles, and I actually enjoyed the cold splashes in the now hot afternoon. By the time we passed below the Navajo bridges the canyon rim had risen to almost 500’ above river level. Around mile 7 we felt raindrops from a seemingly clear sky, then a mile or so later saw virga hanging over the canyon while seeming not to fall to river level. We had already been advised, while in Marble Canyon walking from the plane to the orientation, that we should feel honored to experience any rain on the river as it is a fairly rare occurrence. We did not, however, feel particularly pleased to experience the sudden hail storm which descended on us around mile 9. Raingear was very rapidly donned by almost all of the passengers. Even the guides grabbed for sweatshirts. We shot past the rock at mile 10 without much notice. Probably most passengers were feeling, as I was, ‘What the heck have I got into – 7 days of freezing cold and rapids too?’ The guides were basically the only people facing forward, the remainder of us facing upstream, away from the onslaught of wind, rain, and hail. The guides continued as rapidly as possible downstream, obviously knowing that they could outrun such a small storm in a very short while.As soon as the storm had passed, the boats pulled up to a small beach at Soap Creek for lunch.
We all piled off the rafts and onto the beach. Rain gear and life jackets were quickly discarded. Tables and food were produced and we all enjoyed ‘make your own’ sandwiches, made and consumed without plates or napkins and with as little production and dropping of crumbs as possible. Crumbs encourage harvester ants, which are present on every beach, so every meal was taken with particular care not to leave any food droppings.
Soon enough we were fed, dry, much happier, and loading back on the rafts to continue down the river.
By mid afternoon we had passed through several small and good size rapids, and to be honest I enjoyed them much more than I expected. I even experimented with riding out on the outer raft tube, with one leg hanging out over the side of the raft, and a very securely held ‘inside hold’ which is the only way you can expect to be thrown inside the raft, not outside, if a wave hits you good in a rapid. My fear of rapids was rapidly decreasing. The Canyon is impressive. The rock layers quickly enter the canyon walls from river level at an angle. This makes it seem like you are traveling downhill much more rapidly than you actually are. As we traveled the 20s series of rapids we passed Indian Dick Rock, which apparently has nothing to do with a Native American called Richard! The wind picked up and it became cooler as we continued on down to our first camp at South Canyon (Mile 31 ½). We disembarked onto the beach, which was just upstream of, and had a fairly good view of Vasey’s Paradise.
Everyone chose a campground (ours was up a rather steep sandy incline at the back of the beach and above the kitchen), then returned for the duffle shuffle. As well as the personal gear bags we also all found our own numbered night bag which matched the day and personal bag numbers, and TJ gave us an orientation on what we would find in the night bags: ground cover, self inflating mattress pad, sleeping bag, self inflating pillow, and sheet. After a demonstration of how to use and repack the self inflating pads, and tent setup (for those who preferred to sleep in a tent) everyone went to set up their own campground and get themselves bathed and settled for the evening while the crew cooked dinner. Many chose to use the tents on this first night due to the cool, sand filled, breeze blowing down the canyon. After setting up the tents it was bathtime. There was a nice shallow rock lined cove that made a suitable bathing hole. The downside was definitely the cold water, but I figured I had better get used to it anyway. The cold breeze did not help much, but once I was dry and dressed again after bathing it really did feel good to have done it. I added my fleece sweatshirt over my shorts and t-shirt pajama combo.
Very shortly the call for dinner had everyone back in the kitchen for instruction in the dish sanitation system. Following hand washing, plates and utensils are collected from their storage buckets and pass through cold water rinse, very hot soapy rinse, hot non soapy rinse, and a final warm Clorox solution rinse. This all leaves a clean though rather wet plate. Much plate waving follows to remove most of the remaining water, and then you’re free to move on through the dinner line and fill up with as much of the delicious food as you could possibly want. The food was varied, well cooked, and there was plenty of it. Tonight was grilled salmon, salad, rice, broccoli and carrot cake. A full trip load would be 30 passengers and 4 crew, we were a very small group of only 19 passengers and 3 crew. There was always surplus food at every meal.
Dinner was taken communally, with everyone sitting around in a circle chatting, eating, and getting acquainted, but very shortly after finishing eating everyone returned to their campgrounds and to bed. Most of us did not have watches, and it had been a very long couple of days anyway, but it did amaze me how quickly your body readjusts to the natural rhythm of sleeping from sunset to sunrise.
I started the night in the tent we had erected, but awoke sometime in the night. The wind had dropped, and while it was still rather cool, it was very pleasant outside, and I was wide awake. I moved my sleeping bag outside and spent the remainder of the night, and all nights from that point sleeping out under the stars.
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