Grand Canyon Raft (3/16/00-4/2/00):
When we noticed a couple of suspicious looking slits in one of our front tires at the first stop, it became a nervous ride to Flagstaff, especially since all of the tires were probably overloaded with half a ton or more of river gear. We stopped a couple of times along the way to check the tire but when no bulge appeared, we figured it would last until we returned home. We picked up Paul Lupo, had lunch at Mickey D's, and were off to the Ferry. Near Cameron we passed a load of AZRA boat gear that never arrived at the put-in. They must have been headed for the San Juan. Before making the long return drive to Flagstaff, Paul helped us unload our gear and went through his mental checklist to make sure we hadn't forgotten anything.
From the launch ramp, we had a perfect view of the Spencer Trail that we hunted in vain for before the Paria trip last October. Sorry guys, it appears that we didn't go far enough upriver to find the trailhead. We had a momentary panic when we thought we had forgotten the seat for the potty. We weren't looking forward to grooving the old fashioned way. Luckily the seat appeared before we launched. It was the maiden voyage for our autographed seat that our Beaumont, Texas friends gave us for a gift many years ago. Thanks again guys, it was comfy and gave us something to read each morning.
We woke up in the morning to frost on the inside of our rain fly but were hoping for warmer weather downstream. After an expedient early morning check-in with Ranger Ed Cummins, we finished rigging and were on our way for 17 days of adventure. While rigging, Bob hurled a 4' strap over Susan's head expecting her to catch it since she'd asked for one. Without giving it much thought, she jumped in after it. Big mistake, she eventually recovered the strap with a paddle blade since the water was so cold she couldn't breathe.
There were lots of fishermen at the Ferry and below it as far as Ryder Canyon, which is beside House Rock Rapid. We also noticed many more ducks, mergansers, and sea gulls than we normally see. We had good runs at Badger and House Rock, though we were glad to have our dry suits on just in case. It was gusty, both upstream and down. The wind died after we settled into our first camp at North Canyon and it was a much warmer night than at the Ferry.
Up early and on the river by 9:30 AM, we flashed through the kicky Roaring Twenties with no events. Just below Vasey's, an adult bald eagle monitored our downstream progress from atop a pinnacle on river right. We watched for renowned Grand Canyon hiker Mike Mahaney along river left but saw no one all day. At Upper Buck Farm, we ran into our first rafting group, a private trip from SLC and Grand Junction, hereafter referred to as Tim's group. They were hiking there but moving on, so we pulled into the camp at Lower Buck. We had our first bath before we lost the sun and hiked up Buck as far as the waterfall the following morning. The red buds were just starting to bloom and hadn't leafed out yet. We also found cave primrose blooming among the maidenhair ferns. We passed Tim's group, who were hiking at Nankoweap, and continued on to our planned camp at Carbon. It was hard going after the wind came up but the campsite was well sheltered in tamarisk trees.
The next morning we moved only as far as Lower Rattlesnake camp, just above 75-Mile Rapid. It was windy but we again had a sheltered site. It rained gently but steadily all night and we awoke to find big, soggy snowflakes at river level - something we haven't seen much of recently. While we were lazing in the tent, we heard a small rockfall on our side and a more major fall on the opposite side of the river. It was spooky, waiting for a big one to flatten the tent but it was tough to convince ourselves to leave a warm, dry shelter. The weather finally cleared around 11:00 AM so we packed quickly and were on our way. In this part of the Canyon we saw hikers along the Beamer Trail, tents at Tanner, and both hikers and tents at Hance Rapid. While scouting Hance, we observed more rockfall across the river. Our left-side run was a good one though we sheared off eight inches of the oar tip in the top third of the rapid. We arrived at Cremation camp with just enough sun left to dry our wet gear and take a quick bath. Bathing was tough since it didn't get over 40° that day.
Because of the heavy snowfall on the Rim, Phantom Ranch was quiet when we crossed over the next morning. We mailed some cards and checked the river flows and forecast while waiting for Tim's group to catch up. They arrived around 2:00 PM but were still planning to camp at Travertine after running Horn, Granite, and Hermit. We waited for them for safety reasons. Horn was big but uneventful, as were Granite and Hermit. They scouted left at Horn while we scouted right with their kayakers. Due to the low water level, the usual left-of-center run wasn't possible. Eventually, we all decided on a right of center run pulling sharply left. At 8000 cfs the current was fairly slow. Rowing we could make about 4 miles an hour downstream but drifting was more like 3 miles an hour. Tim's group seemed to enjoy drifting, so it took quite awhile to get to Granite, the next rapid. At low flows, the only run available at Granite was tight on the right wall. We ran first boat after their three kayakers were positioned downstream. It was a big ride, we took lots of water, but came out the bottom right side up. We bailed our raft out and waited for their boats to run. They all ran cleanly but it was getting pretty late.
We arrived at the Hermit scout at 6:00 PM. Some of their group was reluctant to run since they had difficulties at Hermit on a prior trip. At the low flow, a right-side run looked best to us, even though we hadn't made that run before. Rather than dither while it darkened, their largest boat (16') ran first, followed by our raft. We both had great runs and at the bottom of the rapid, their lead boatman waved us on so we could make it to our planned camp at Crystal before dark. We flashed through Boucher Rapid arriving at camp at dusk, around 7:00 PM. We quickly threw our camp together and cooked dinner by lantern light with the ominous rumble of Crystal in the background.
The NPS had warned us that the water level would be dropped to a continuous 8,000 cfs from 3/25-4/7. We weren't expecting that low to catch up with us until 3/27, nevertheless we seemed to have quite low water at Crystal. We scouted the rapid as soon as we got up, broke down our camp, and read while waiting for Tim's group to arrive. They pulled in around noon. After scouting, we all made the classical right side run, which seems like it gets easier every year. A left side run looked possible but none of us tried it. With their kayaks positioned downstream for safety, we ran first and continued on through the jewels after they got their first big boat down safely. Good runs were enjoyed by all. We got a copy of Tim's itinerary so we could meet up again to run Lava with them. Later that day, we passed a couple of lost looking hikers, a lone man dayhiking at South Bass and a lone woman drying out gear for two people on a small campsite across from Shinumo Creek. Perhaps they descended from the rim under adverse weather conditions and hadn't found the trail to the river at South Bass.
Tim's group was planning to camp at North Bass, so we continued to the lower beach on river right. The weather was great and there was a ton of driftwood on the beach. Around 5:00 PM some type of motorized Indian cultural trip passed by on a 36' rig and a smaller snout rig. We were surprised by the motors as we didn't think running motorized was allowed between mid-October and mid-April. We found out later that it is only in the fall that they aren't allowed on the river. We bathed, baked a gingerbread cake, enjoyed our second campfire, and watched the stars before retiring to our tent. We were certainly well rested since we were sometimes hitting the sack by 7:00 PM and staying in it until 7:00 AM.
Considering a climb up to Royal Arch, we got an early start the next morning. After we decided to save that hike for another time, we pulled into the mouth of Elves Chasm for lunch. We expected to run into a Canadian backpacker, Kelly Koome, who had told us via email that he would be there at noon. Perhaps Pasture Wash Road was closed because of the storms that we weathered above Phantom. In any case, he didn't show up so we continued on to set up camp at Forster Canyon. The campsite there was gorgeous and displayed a lot of evidence of beaver habitation. We hiked back into the canyon for an hour or so. It was pretty and at one ledge obstacle in the streambed there was a 20" circular curtain of water showering down from a spring 20-30' above us. The canyon beyond looked interesting but getting there required a bypass that we were reluctant to try so late in the day. We returned to the expansive beaches, examining the sparse offering of wild flowers along the way. Later at camp, two bighorn rams fed and drank a short distance downstream from us. They stayed an hour or so, passing behind our camp as they serenely made their way up river.
Our 2-3 hour hike in Bedrock Canyon turned out to be fantastic with running water, a granite narrows, precipitous redwall limestone headwalls at the canyon end, and spectacular views of the snow covered upper slopes of the Powell Plateau. By the time we returned to the beach, Tim's group had arrived and set up lunch. We ran the tight right side of the rapid and had a little fun getting out of the powerful eddy at the bottom. Since Tim's group was planning to hike at Stone Creek, we continued on. An NPS work group was lying over in the mouth of Tapeats so we bypassed that as well. The date palm at Christmas Tree Cave (a.k.a. Date Rape Cave) is indeed gone. There was no one at Deer Creek but it was getting late so we bypassed it and oared for our planned camp at Fishtail Rapid. There we took a short shady hike up the canyon before dinner. There were a few pools but the streambed looked like it is usually dry except for immediately after rainstorms.
Camping at Fishtail set us up for an early hike into 140-Mile Canyon. Upon inspection, the camp there wasn't bad either. The grunt up 140-Mile was short but tough going over and around sharp, house-sized limestone blocks. We finally got within view of the arch but didn't feel we had time or energy to go up underneath it and it wasn't particularly good lighting for a photo. On the way back to the river, Susan did a face plant, jamming her jaw, smacking her chest, and banging one knee on a rock. She was fortunate not to break anything but felt shocky all afternoon. Just above the Upset scout, a bighorn ewe posed for us on a big rock at river level. Upset looked ugly at the lowest level we'd seen recently but Bob kept far right and had a beautiful run. We planned to camp at Tuckup, leaving the Ledges open for Tim's group. However, the Tuckup Beach was a cobble bar with no benign sandy spot for the raft so we forged on to National, arriving at dusk. Irv Callahan, an off-duty GCE boatman, graciously offered to share the upper beach with us. His group was near the end of a 30-day, three-person, private motorized trip. We pulled in a discreet distance below them and set up camp before accepting their invitation to share a beer and their campfire. We talked for quite awhile and enjoyed swapping lies while munching on Dutch oven spice cake that they'd baked earlier.
Irv gave us a tour of his snout rig in the morning. We were thinking it looked like a pretty attractive option for early season solo trips since one could pretty much avoid getting wet. We were also thinking it looked like a great way to go when we get too old too row, which Susan has just about decided may already be the case. Stiff from the previous day's fall, she was feeling about 90 years old that morning. We hung around camp all day, bathing, reading, laundering our stinky polypro, and absorbing rays along with the Canyon beauty. About 5:30 PM, the NPS work party rowed by. They asked if we minded them taking the lower beach but must have decided upon inspection that it wasn't adequate for them, as they continued on to Fern Glen.
Tim's group floated by around 11:00 AM the next morning as we were rigging to leave. They were hiking Fern Glen when we arrived, so we pulled into the lower beach and read for awhile to give them some space. Susan was still too stiff to walk very far but we took a short jaunt after they left. Later we passed them on our way to the Honga Spring camp; one we've noticed previously but had never camped at. A few of them stopped to chat before heading to their camp about a mile below us. Another beaver visited our camp during the night, leaving fresh-cut, stripped willow branches on the beach. Susan was really disappointed that she missed seeing the elusive little bugger. We stopped in for coffee and a pleasant conversation with Tim's group at their camp across from Vulcan's Anvil. As we chatted, we discovered that we had SLC friends in common. Since they were busily packing up and rigging, we left them to their chores and rowed down to Lava for an extensive look at the rapid.
On the way down, Bob mentioned that one of Tim's boatmen had cracked some ribs in a fall during their Upset scout and was not able to row. Bob had offered Susan to row his boat but they had decided to have one of their boatmen row down and then hike back to row again. At 8,000 CFS, Lava looked as bad as we've seen it in quite a few years, but then when doesn't it look bad? We scouted extensively high and low. A left side run at this level didn't seem to be possible and the laterals off the right wall looked big enough to flip a 16' raft. Bob decided on his run and we walked slowly back to the boat, lining up his markers as we went. When Tim's group pulled in, Bob went back up to scout with them while Susan donned her wet and dry suit and secured safeties on the boat. You can imagine her surprise when he returned and informed her that she was rowing one of their boats. She went back and scouted briefly and got ready to run their 14' self-bailing Avon with two passengers.
Bob ran first and had a great entry. Later, he and his passenger confided that they were close to an endo in the biggest tail wave at the bottom of the rapid. Though he hit it absolutely square, the boat stalled for a split second before punching through. Susan's run was much more exciting but not in a good way. For whatever reason, she was terribly out of position and though she missed the nasty ledge hole, she flipped on the first right wall lateral. Fortunately, they had rigged for flip and no gear was lost or damaged. One of her passengers was atop the raft by the time Bob pulled it to the right side just above Son of Lava Rapid. The other passenger flushed out on the right. It was a nasty swim and though everyone seemed okay at the time, we are hoping that her two passengers didn't discover injuries after the fact. Susan was under the boat for some period of time and emerged with a pulled chest muscle and a swollen leg. We didn't realize until the following morning that she had a shiner. She was lucky that the biggest injury she sustained was to her pride. This was her first flip in the Grand Canyon and though she is still not pleased about it, she's leaving the humiliation behind. Her recent resolution is not to take herself or life too seriously. The rest of Tim's group made beautiful runs and all arrived to help flip the boat back over. They invited us to lunch and then to camp with them for their "Alive Below Lava" party. Lunch was great but we declined the party thinking we might hike at Whitmore.
It was raining in the morning at Whitmore so we decided not to hike after all and continued downstream. One of the kayakers from Tim's group loaned us his copy of Dayhikes from the River by Flagstaff boater, Tom Martin. We used it to find some interesting hikes on the lower end of the Canyon. For how many times we've camped at Mile 202 (Engagement Beach), we'd never taken the short hike up the canyon. It is pretty and with the help of Tom's book, we found the pictographs easily. Along with some vague smears, there are 4-5 discernable images that Susan liked well enough to photograph. We stayed at 202 and when the afternoon wind hit us we were glad that we had erected our tent in a sheltered area. We encountered heavy downstream as well as upstream winds on this trip and chose to have only 4 evening campfires, which severely limited the Dutch oven delights we'd planned.
Since we were taking a short river day to Granite Park camp, we stopped to hike up Spring Canyon. It was a pretty hike along a brushy streambed. There were a lot of flowers in bloom on the lower end of the Canyon and Susan found a small patch of giant helleborine orchids along the stream. We arrived at Granite Park in time for lunch and watched four gigantic golden eagles soar above us while we ate. We had considered running longer but the upstream wind had started by noon and we vowed to start earlier the next morning to make our miles downstream. We took a nice hike up the canyon in the afternoon and saw a wider variety of flowers than we had seen on any other short hike. The rock layers were pretty and the ocotillos were just starting to bloom. The wind died down enough for us to have a fire and we celebrated with Dutch oven biscuits.
Up early, we were relieved to start off with a downstream wind. We pulled in at 220 Mile Canyon for a late lunch and set up camp before taking a hike back into the canyon for a couple of hours. We hiked up the canyon floor but returned high above it on what appeared to be an old burro trail. It was our warmest day, about 80 degrees, so we laid the solar shower out on the sand before we left for our hike and returned for our first truly warm shower of the trip. To save time in the morning, we packed up the kitchen before retiring for the night. We planned to have breakfast and coffee while waiting for our shuttle driver at Diamond but we arrived at 8:30 AM to find John Lupo already waiting for us. He helped us load up the truck while filling us in on current events.
The ride back to Flagstaff was pleasantly uneventful. It was great to have the time to talk to John. We dropped him at his Flagstaff home and continued on our way. Not too far out of Flagstaff, it became apparent that we were having some sort of tire problem. The truck was vibrating and shaking and the problem seemed to be one of the rear tires. After changing a deformed and close to failing tire in Camp Verde, the rest of the trip was a lot smoother and less anxious. The steel belt had partially failed even though there was a lot of tread left on the tire.
All in all, we had a great trip. It was perhaps a little early in the season for two fair-weather, swimsuit and T-shirt boaters, but what can we say? We're fluff, next time we'll try mid-April.
