June '07 Newsletter
June '07 Newsletter |
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Greetings from Hell - or at least Susan thinks this must be what it feels like there. After a fairly cool spring, the temperature skyrocketed here. The only things that seem to be enjoying the current "dry heat" is our cacti, which have bloomed their hearts out this year. Everything else is parched and we're expecting a serious fire season again.
Susan's Mom passed away in late March after a month in the hospital. After fargling around with the slow-moving health care industry over what initially appeared to be a major personal health issue, she was able to leave for Minnesota in time for the funeral and spent ten days with her family. Not being able to see her mother before she passed away was and still is very tough on her. On a positive note she was reunited with cousins she hadn't seen since childhood. Her Dad turned 83 while she was staying with him. She is looking forward to our summer visit up there.
Bob assisted her clown group in getting ready for the annual Lions Club White Cane Parade. Any concerns Susan may have had about her clowns dropping out without their leader proved unfounded. They made up banners, decorated a larger trailer, filled water balloons, perfected their outfits and make-up, etc. Big Bertha drove one of her husband's antique tractors. He was easily convinced to don another of Susan's extra costumes and drove another tractor. Our neighbor Ron, not in costume, drove a third antique tractor towing the "Canyon Country Cut-ups" float. They had a great time. Tractors of the Past won second place in the motorized category and the clowns took third in the performing category. High Desert Helpers' (HDH) float, a giant Easter basket, won best of show.
Every Easter HDH hosts a sunrise service followed later by an egg hunt. Susan was home in time to attend both and help hide the eggs. Hide, a term used loosely. They hide them in plain sight for the little ones and a bit more concealed for the older kids. Most of the eggs were filled with candy but some had slips of paper in them that could be redeemed for cash at the registration desk. They also had door prizes, claimed by number on the registration tickets. The kids had a blast.
The library hosted their once a year barbeque and fundraiser at High Desert Park in mid-April. Jubalee, one of Susan's clowns, serves on the library board and was chair of the event. She had asked the clowns to perform and perform they did. They helped with the kids' races, passed out balloon animals, danced, and entertained the diners. Instead of barbeque this year they had Chicken in Molé Sauce with rice, beans, and tortillas. Molé is a Mexican dish made with chocolate, chilies, and peanuts, and is a favorite of ours. Before we knew it, May had arrived and it was time to leave for the Grand Canyon. We've barely been home since then.
We're practically caught up now from all the traveling. It's time to do some reading and trip planning for next year. Our spring of 2008 Baja trip is almost full and we've begun thinking about what we should do next year. In April, we have another 8-person Grand Canyon raft trip. Bob will have to buy or rent a new boat as we sold his old gray Achilles bucket boat the day we got home from the San Juan. A number of friends have expressed interest in a late-May White Rim mountain biking trip. Bob also had a new computer delivered while we were on the San Juan so he is busy configuring that to his satisfaction (he loves those electronic toys). Susan plans to purchase a digital point and shoot camera soon so she can join the digital age.
Grand Canyon Raft (5/7/07-5/28/07):
Three close friends who each had 5-6 years and a guy from the southeastern US who had 7 years on the waiting list, comprised our 2007 group. To further enhance our chances, we requested an 8 rather than 16-person trip and gave the National Park Service (NPS) a lengthy list of dates starting in early May. Almost the first date on our list was granted. As the launch date approached it became evident that due to work commitments, our southeastern couple was not going to be able to make even part of the trip. Fortunately we had enough advance warning that we were easily able to fill their spots.
Back in BCC we proceeded to load the trailer. We had hoped to use just the van and a single axle trailer to get everything to Lees Ferry, but it soon became obvious that the load would be excessive especially when we added two rental raft packages from Canyon River Equipment Outfitters (REO) in Flagstaff. We finished packing the trailer then loaded the coolers and loose items into our Toyota Tundra camper shell, increasing our chances of making it to Lees Ferry without incident.
On May 7, Bob's birthday, we left early in the morning and leisurely drove to the put-in. Temperatures were moderate for us desert rats, so rigging went quickly. Ranger Peggy checked out our gear and scheduled our orientation for the next morning. Bob had some concerns about having two groups camping in the single non-commercial campsite but the beaver have greatly enlarged shoreline-parking in the past few years. Our group left lots of room for the 16-person group launching the next day. This was a group New Zealand "Kiwis", who were utilizing a totally outfitted Professional River Outfitters (PRO) "painless private" trip. They seemed like nice folks, remarkably quiet, letting everyone get a well-deserved and necessary night's rest.
We pulled his raft over onto the right bank, quickly accessing the situation. The boatman was way upstream in the shallows trying with the aid of our kayaker to reach the shoreline. His passenger was close to where we had arrested the raft and was okay but for a possible broken nose where an oar had clubbed him. Bob had seen one nicely counterweighted Sawyer oar going down river with only the blade above the water. Since it was on the far left side of the river, we watched helplessly as it floated downstream. We later determined that one of the oar safeties had ripped in half and replaced all of them with our new webbing. While aiding our swimmers to reach the raft by walking down the boulder-strewn bank, we rescued 12-packs and even a 24-pack of pop that conveniently floated down to us. It was time for the marines to turn up to halt the carnage and they did. A 2-raft ARR trip supplied us with all the people power we needed to quickly right the raft. Remarkably, little but the oar was lost. Our book box was open but the plastic bag inside saved the books even though the whole thing was hanging in the river upside down. The freezer had stayed tight and the dry ice lasted for 7 more days. Some of the rocket boxes leaked, but plastic bags protected the food. What a first day! We were glad to be in camp by 3:00 or so.
Our boatman/phase II permittee was struggling and the next day promised to be busy with Houserock and the Roaring 20's. Bob decided two guys would share the -rowing rather than take another flip or kill an out of shape novice boatman. This system worked well and we made it downriver to South Canyon without any problems. Silver Grotto was taken by a commercial group, as was the big dune camp just upstream. We knew South was also taken but with a small group, we successfully camped on the upstream beach.
Our camp at Buckfarm Canyon was in full sun when we arrived. Many of us sought solace and cool shade in the narrow canyon until late afternoon. The redbuds had just finished blooming and their purple blossoms littered the trail underfoot. Columbine and Helleborine Orchids peeked out of the ferns. We actually felt a bit chilled reclining on the rock benches after a dip in the pools. Back at camp it had cooled off. One of our eight crew members had come down with a nasty cold and was having a tough time shaking it. It ran through three people before the bug died off, which made our cook teams pretty skinny at times. We still managed a nice birthday party for Debbie one of our permittees, whose husband gifted her with a ridiculous gold lamé bikini.
Leaving late from camp, we missed the crowd at the Little Colorado. Lines of boats on the beach were just departing as we arrived. New NPS regulations no longer allow watercraft to pull into the mouth, so we beached just upstream and walked around the corner. The sky blue waters are always warmer than those of the Colorado but still seemed a bit chilly to us that day. Many of our party trekked to Beamer's cabin, while others enjoyed playing in the milky water. As we were passing the sacred Hopi salt area, an NPS group informed us that the archaeology team at Crash Canyon was inviting river runners to see an excavation in progress. It was toasty out there but they were doing a great presentation for every group who was willing to make the short walk. Both the Carbon and Lava Creek campsites were open but it was still early and there was no wind, so we opted to make more miles. Cardenas Camp was full with a non-commercial group that must have launched a day before us. We continued downstream to a shady low water beach on the right just above Unkar Rapid. The dory group arrived later and camped across from us on the sunny side.
Our Unkar runs went well. Our two boatmen continued taking turns on rapids. While scouting Hance, we watched the dories run their traditional right of center run and decided to run our traditional technical left side run. The two of us ran first to demonstrate the run, which would have gone a lot more smoothly had the wind not decided to gust upstream just as we left the scout. Susan pulled the right side and her crew quickly bailed to be ready for anything. With a self-bailer Bob readily pulled the left side eddy and walked back to row our third raft. We were all reunited in Susan's eddy and our boatman alternation program continued down through Sock and Grapevine. The Clear Creek campsite was large enough for the eight of us. It was party night since one of the phase II permittees was being traded out at Phantom for a more skilled boatman. The gals all wore their sarongs with a variety of tops. Our soon to be leaving gal wore her new gold lamé bikini over the top of a better fitting one.
We were up early and headed downstream planning to camp at South Bass with the Ross Wheeler boat. Crystal was at non-threatening level, the water low enough for us to safely make a left side run that made us all happy. We had been experiencing low traffic days but that was soon to end. The Fallons were hoping for a layover at Bass Camp but were aced out by the Kiwis who had pulled in a day ahead for their own layover. We dug in at South Bass and had a relaxing afternoon watching motor rigs search for tiny bits of sand on which to camp their 30 people. No one wanted to bypass Elves Chasm and it was too late in the afternoon for stopping any amount of time there before having to run downstream for camp. Some of our group hiked up to look at the Bass cable crossing, others checked out the Ross Wheeler boat, while others lazed and read. In the late afternoonm a hard of hearing, elderly hiker who had been on an extended hike from Royal Arch passed through our camp on his way out of the Canyon. The next morning another hiker who had camped along the river across from Shinumo Creek turned up. He had just begun his adventure so we couldn't offer him any food or garbage removal service.
Specter Rapid, always worth scouting, ran cleanly along the right wall, although it was a big ride. We continued down to Bedrock, which due to the low flows was a bit thin for the right run, but everyone made the pull. Deubendorff looked horrible with heavy flow to the left leading down to either the alligator jaws or a large hole in the middle of the river. From the left bank scout, we decided we would all take the big ride down the left side and see how it worked out. As Bob entered the rapid, he noticed the flow to the picket fence was very favorable and there was a lot more space than it seemed from the left side scout. He instantly changed his plan, drove his raft to the right, and ran the picket fence even pulling right of the last rock at the end, getting a sweet run missing everything we were so concerned about. Susan instantaneously adjusted and followed his line with equally good results. Robbie and Lou made the planned big run down the left side but with a happy ending. It was lunchtime, so we elected to camp at upper Stone and hike. Many of the group made it far up into the valley, some lounged around the waterfall, and others found a shady spot to read. No other group took the lower beach, which has become pretty sloped and not that great a camp any more.
Wanting to spend some time in Matkatamiba, we timed our leave to be after the commercial motorized trips had left and yet before the two non-commercial trips camped above us. When we reached Matkat, a motorized trip was still in the mouth. It was possible to park the rafts on a ledge just upstream and walk into the mouth, so we checked what was happening and found they planned to leave in 10-15 minutes. We then moved into the mouth and stayed for an hour or so. We found a shady spot on the right side and had lunch before proceeding to Upset Rapid. We scouted it carefully and found the right side run was open but tight as usual. No problems but the rafts were drifting out and hitting the right side of the river center hole. It was tough for us to bypass the unoccupied Ledges Camp, but we pushed on to Last Chance Camp, setting ourselves up for an early arrival into Havasu. Between Back Eddy and Last Chance we sighted a total of 20 healthy looking bighorn. Ten members comprised the largest family group but most were groups of two or three.
The float down to Lava Falls was uneventful. The Fallons were scouting when we arrived. We watched half of their group successfully execute the right side run with several slightly different approaches. We then tucked in behind their second wave. Bob and Susan had big runs. Bob's was a bit more left of the v-wave and hit the big tail waves. Susan was a bit more right and cruised by the death rock. Our third raft got sideways below the v-wave and the boatman was scrambling to get his oars back. Fortunately the river Gods were kind and they emerged upright. It was a bit early for lunch, so we floated downstream to the pictograph panel at Whitmore Wash. A grassy beach with a shade tree became our picnic area. With lots of time left we floated on to a large left side camp at mile 196.
Since we were not taking out at Diamond Creek, we had no reason to get there early. We passed by about 11:00 and most of the parties that took out that day were already gone. The Fallons were hiking in Travertine Canyon, so we pulled in slightly upstream and had lunch on a flat beach with some shade cover. When they left we took our rafts down and tied up to travertine blocks on a surging, rocky beach. Susan and Lynn stayed with the rafts to insure they weren't torn to pieces, while the rest of us scrambled up the ropes and ladders to see the waterfall. Continuing downstream we didn't stop at Travertine Falls because the Fallons were camped in this excellent site. That meant we had to run 232 rapid, Killer Fang Falls.
Up early, a few of us hiked a short ways up the trail at Bridge City. We stopped at Spencer Canyon for lunch and were attacked by real river pirates. Robbie and Lou had brought along makeup, clothing, a parrot, and a peg leg. It was kind of hard to get Robbie out of character that day. The Hualapai and their customers found the antics of Long Shlong Silver and Louie Lafitte wildly entertaining. Brian scored more ice for us by doing Eskimo rolls for them. Campsites were in short supply but Brian found us a low water beach just above Quartermaster Canyon, in the heart of helicopter land. The Hualapai air traffic there is virtually continuous from dawn to dusk. What seems like hundreds of flights a day are going down to the river for short river forays or out to the travertine dome for lunch, dinner, or breakfast. We wondered if their new skywalk, which we could see from the river, was drawing hordes of visitors. But it was Memorial Day weekend and Lake Mead would also prove to be extremely busy.
The river enters a series of scenic vertical uplift areas that reminded some of us of the terrain between Bluff and Mexican Hat along the San Juan River. We felt blessed that the flow was still 3 miles an hour or so. At the mouth of Iceberg Canyon, the river takes a sharp left bend. We soon learned the water and wind dynamics here made the river pretty squirrelly. We set up our large shade platform on the wet beach and prepared to spend the afternoon comfortably cool while sunning occasionally, dipping frequently, and reading the rest of the time. It was not to be. First the big blue jet boats that do pull outs for Grand Canyon commercial companies came by in tandem and created such great waves they flooded us under our sunshade with chairs, cups, sunscreen, sunglasses, and who knows what else being sucked back into the river. Then the winds came. We withstood the first assault but then the big gust came and flipped the whole canopy and rolled it into the river. Without lifevests, two of our party gave chase into the river and eventually stepped off into deep water. The river sucked them fully clothed into a mini-whirlpool and held them there. Those on shore thought they were stuck in the mud when they were actually getting close to drowning. Eventually Brian called out to bring a boat because they were getting tired and swimming wasn't getting them any place. Bob and Lou rushed out with one of our rafts and mounted a rescue. Both swimmers were happy to be in a raft and brought back to shore. Of course the sun canopy had continued down river sinking lower and lower as it went. Hopefully none of the motorized Hualapai or commercial companies will end up with it around their prop one day.
We had cell phone service on the Lake so we phoned our friends in Black Canyon City and told them we were derigged and ready to go. They had originally planned to load us up and head us home at 9:00 AM but graciously agreed to get up even earlier and drive to South Cove arriving at 7:00 AM. Within an hour we had everything on the double axle trailer and escaped the intolerable heat and Memorial Day weekend noise of Lake Mead. We stopped briefly in Flagstaff around noon to unload our rental equipment and continued on to Black Canyon City.
2007 Trip Reports:
May and early June promised to be a bustling rafting season so within a couple of weeks of returning from Baja, Susan bought the non-perishable food for our Grand Canyon trip and we packed it in rocket boxes. The permit was obtained under the waitlist elimination program called phase I and II. In phase II individuals on the waiting list were allowed to pool their waiting time to advance their position, there-by enhancing their chance of drawing a permit. Bob helped some of our friends put together a couple of pools for 8-person trips, this one in 2007 and one in the spring of 2008.
One couple arrived on May 4, staying in Phoenix that evening. Another friend of ours picked them up the next day and returned them to Black Canyon City to aid with the packing. On May 6 we began the normal ice and perishable food run at 7:00 AM, dropping off a car in Phoenix for a late arrival to drive up to BCC. Our dry ice supplier was busier than usual loading up the street venders for the Cinco de Mayo holiday weekend. We picked up our 16-passenger van rental from A1 Vans Rentals and Leasing, who we've been using for years. They now have a fleet of 160 15-passenger rental vans. Susan headed north to buy the perishable supplies while Tommy and Bob picked up Lynn, our permit holder, and our lone kayaker, Brian.
We talked to all of the parties launching the next morning and none seemed to be going for the large, deep water campsite at Soap Creek so that became our objective. Why we expected a relatively calm first day with one totally inexperienced boatman is hard to say. He was not aware how badly his oars were set and we made the mistake of not testing out his rig ourselves. Paired with his lack of big water river time, our day eventually slowed down considerably. His oars were set correctly by the time we reached Badger. Already exhausted from trying to keep pace with a badly tuned raft, he ended up sideways over the right of center pour-over and flipped cleanly putting himself and his passenger into the frigid Colorado River.
Most of the group took an early morning hike to the Indian sites and Indiana Jones Cave before we packed up and left the beach. As we readied to leave, a combined dory and GCE motor trip moored their boats to hike up. They wanted the Eminence Break camp that day, so we promised to leave it for them. We continued downstream, made a quick practice pull-in at Vasey's Paradise but didn't land. As we arrived at Red Wall Cavern, the Kiwi group was leaving sans lifevests. Their trip leader hadn't yet left the beach so we had a short discussion with him about the bad press his group was giving private boaters. Susan had mentioned the life vest regulation the first night as they pulled into the boaters' camp without them on. Of course the Ranger also mentioned it in the orientation. It seemed that this group felt personal safety rules were for other people to follow.
Both the Dory trip and the Kiwis were hiking at Saddle when we went by. The Kiwis told our kayaker that they were planning to camp at Nankoweap but so were we. Arriving first, we of course took the most desirable camp. After we had set up camp and had lunch the Kiwi trip leader pulled in with one raft and wanted to double camp the beach rather than take the great camp just below us. Another interesting discussion ensued and he made a big show of counting the number in our group, as if we were by virtue of our small number, required to camp on little bits of sand all of the way down the river. Almost a half hour later, the rest of his party arrived and they took the lower camp. Fortunately this was the last time we had to interface with this group of ego-inflated, professional river guides and their friends. In the late afternoon, most of the group hiked up to the granaries for excellent photos. We enjoyed a spectacular evening beneath the monumental Nankoweap wall.
Bob was first at the boat beach but Robbie had not yet arrived. As the rest of us pulled in, he showed up with the keys and directions to find the rental car. While the rest of us hiked to Phantom to mail cards and spend money, Bob took Debbie down to Pipe Creek to get her started on the trail out. She was sad to go and we were sad to lose her. Not only was she a good sport, she was a big help with camp chores and in the kitchen. Horn Creek looked especially nasty at low water, with no run possible between the horns and big holes downstream stretching from the right bank 2/3 of the way across the river. The Fallons, a 16-person family group who we had met at Phantom was there and ran three of their rafts first. All runs were different but successful. They spotted for us. Susan ran the downstream hole when she couldn't get far enough left after dodging under the center horn. Bob got further left but still ate the hole - sideways no less. The walk-in boatman just pointed it downriver and had a great run through all of the nasty stuff. Another successful day with all rafts bottom down. The Fallons took the camp at Monument and we ran without scouting. It was a big ride as usual with no problems. We had planned on camping at Hermit and were delighted to find in unoccupied. The next morning, a low water run down the middle at Hermit seemed appropriate. We had fun rides with every boat hitting the waves squarely.
We took a leisurely leave, hoping some of the downstream traffic would clear by the time we got going. We had the mouth of Shinumo all to ourselves and all of us took the short hike to the waterfall. The Fallons were the only party left at Elves Chasm by the time we arrived. They graciously moved over to give us room in the mouth. Some of their party were hiking and climbing to the upper falls, so they were planning a lengthy stay. Our group enjoyed some time in the main pool. Susan and several others climbed up into the cave and cannon balled into the pool. Bighorn sheep are no strangers to this section of the Canyon and we saw several family groups as we continued downstream. With little or no wind, rowing through Stephen and Conquistador aisles to the left side camp just below Fossil was a cakewalk. We had hoped for afternoon shade but had to settle for hunkering down behind a large boulder until the sun sank lower in the sky.
Tapeats Creek has recently been declared a day use only area. We stopped in but couldn't see much change since we camped there two years ago. It takes time to recover a heavily used site. A few of us took a short walk up the trail but most wanted to spend time at Deer so we continued on. We made a brief stop at Christmas Tree Cave. Other than some of the Fallon group who were camped directly opposite the falls, there was no one at Deer Creek when we arrived. We tied up out of the way and most of us headed for the upper valley. Lynn's ankle was still bothering her so she stayed behind and read under our raft mounted shade umbrella. The two of us spent time checking out Anasazi handprints and reading at the Patio. The rest of the group made it up to the Throne Room near upper Deer Creek Falls. After noon it became very busy with motorized trips arriving. We talked to a number of backpackers walking about. We left around 3:00 passing up Pancho's Kitchen in favor of the Back Eddy camp, which was fully in shade. Both Pancho's and the Football Field camps were full and several more groups went by late in the day.
At 8:00 AM, we were first into the mouth of Havasu Creek, except for a couple of early morning hikers who had come down from above. Anchored to the shady side, the two of us read in the shade while the rest went hiking until about noon, by which time the place was a zoo. Three non-commercial trips, including our friends the Fallons, and a dory trip had joined us in the mouth. Plus there were a couple of motorized trips parked downstream in the deeper water. We wanted to run long this day so after mooching some ice from the motor guys, we left and boated until 4:00 or so. Camped at the large Cove Canyon Camp, the Fallons came in later and took upper Cove. We gave them one of our campfire in a cans and the next morning they told us how much they enjoyed having something similar to a fire to stare into. We seemed to be hitting the sack early and didn't get that much use out of ours.
Both of us have made numerous forays with notably bad results hunting for the Book of Worms mentioned in the guidebooks. With the Martin and Whitis guidebook instructions, we gave it another shot. We eventually found the blocks with worm borings but it was not the trip highlight we were expecting. Rowing through numerous slack water pools made for slow progress but we eventually reached Granite Park around lunch time. Everyone spread out in the spacious tree-shaded riverside campsites and took it easy until it cooled off.
we scouted it from the right and it looked difficult to break behind the river center hole and get on the left side of the current line. Everything on the right side of the current line was feeding to the Fangs. Bob suggested a tight left side, take your poison early rather than later run, but was outvoted. He agreed to lead a right to left assault, set up on a lateral that fed the hole and power into the downstream side of it and over the current line to the left side. Some strokes were still needed to avoid slipping off to the right and sure contact with the Fangs. Susan was having a bad day. She missed her entry and rowed like crazy while each wave surfed her further right until she eventually hit the Fang rocks broadside. Fortunately the raft did not wrap on the rock or rip itself to pieces on the sharp one. A clean flip and the raft spun back out to the center of the river, as did the passengers. We all missed the third raft's run but since the results were good it was probably closer to Bob's line than Susan's. Brian, our kayaker helped surf the raft to shore where he set up dual z drags on both ends of the raft to flip it upright. Susan runs a tight ship so there was nothing missing and no damage except to her confidence.
With the low lake levels, high banks limit the number of camps in this area. Bob was interested in visiting Columbine Falls so when we reached there about lunchtime he was watching carefully for a landing or even a possible camp. The latter was not to be found but at the furthest upstream location he noticed evidence of boats landing. Getting off he found a great, heavily used trail that avoided much of the brush and cliff banks by following the upstream wall to the base of the falls. An additional benefit was some shade for the rafts. First we ate lunch and then hiked about a half mile to the falls. The falls were delightful with large yellow Columbine flowers scattered profusely on both sides. Afterwards we continued downstream between towering sediment cliffs without beaches. From our Diamond down trip of a year ago Bob remembered a reasonable camp at the new Pearce Rapid. Just upstream of that we found another, which proved superior. We had left the Grand Canyon behind at the Grand Wash Cliffs and were now in Lake Mead Recreation Area.
Everyone decided it might be best to avoid another derig and rerig day by traveling to the take-out and camping there our last evening. Because of the continuing decline of Lake Mead's water level, the downstream flow continued through all of Iceberg Canyon. In several places there were small sand waves but all of a sudden where the river met the lake, we had 2-3' ones and even a rapid around an island. The current roiled turbidly towards a far wall and within a couple of boat lengths to the side was absolutely blue green clear lake water. Then a mixing zone was reached where the swirling turbid water could be seen layered below and through the clear lake water. Spectacular patterns were formed and reformed. After this treat there was nothing to do except row the flat lake for 3-4 miles to the take-out. Fortunately there was no wind, but it still seemed to take forever and was real grunt work. Later the winds came up again, creating 2' chop on the Lake so all of us felt happy to be sitting on shore in the broiling sun that afternoon. We leisurely derigged during the afternoon. Work a bit, get wet a bit, sit a bit, and broil in the sun a bit. I think we were all happy to see the sun sink into the big western sky around 7:00 PM.
| Participants: | Lynn Aldrich, Brian Aubin, Deb Campbell, Rob Daigle, Tom Jensen, Bob & Susan Marley, Lou & Debbie Martin. |
| Participants: | Mike Coltrin, Peter Curia, Ernie & Sandy Hildner, Dave Kehs, Joanne & John Manning, Bob & Susan Marley, Scott Marley, Scott McCollough, Helen Sprague, Blue Stringer, Char Taylor, Kay Threlkeld, & Cheri Vansant. |
| Our page URL: http://www.kwagunt.net/ |
Updated on Thursday, June 21, 2007 @ 10:30 MST © 1995-2007 by Robert R. Marley |
Email address: themarleys@kwagunt.net |
That went well and we were on the road by 3:00 PM. The initial plan had been to take all the coolers high and camp in the pines near Flagstaff. But with such a good start our early arrival in Flag prompted a spontaneous decision by our trip leader to make a pit stop and continue on. Arriving in Kayenta around dark thirty, we refueled our vehicles and tanked up on food at the Burger King. It was getting tired out and folks were wondering where we were going to camp. Some jokingly suggested that we use the Kayenta Holiday Inn. Nixing that idea, an autocratic decision was made to press on to the put-in. "Only another 100 miles or so and we can sleep in". Everyone crashed as soon as we found a campsite there.
Another Ranger told us the shuttle would take four hours and it did. The incredibly dusty, bone-jarring, narrow 12 mile unpaved section of the Clay Hills road eats up much of that time. Twenty miles an hour is top speed and even that not for long. Unfortunately, there was a miscommunication about filling John's vehicle with gas. His gas gauge was broken and Ernie got the impression from him that the tank was full. Bob should have known better because he had been caravanning with John on the way up. The end result was John's truck ended up at the take-out with an undefined amount of gas.
Being up early and on the river by 9:00 Utah time is pretty unusual for an Arizonan that likes to sleep in. This group of people seemed to like to get into camp early in the afternoon so they could diddle around doing personal things for awhile before Happy Hour and cook team. Entry into the canyon caused by the uplift was sudden, the walls rapidly mounting up. Passing over some minor riffles, we eventually arrived at 8-foot Rapid. There was a large group on the beach and knowing the right side was the place to be on entry, Bob just ran it. All of the rafts had no problem but Sandy got stuck in a hole behind a rock. Low in the water, Ernie couldn't see her until he went over the rock himself, knocked her paddle out of her hands and ended upside down. Fortunately we had rafts below to corral all of the gear and get Ernie out of the river. Sandy fought her way out of the hole using her hands like paddles and Dave, our other inflatable kayaker had a great run. With upstream winds starting to blow hard, Bob opted for a noon hour end to our river adventuring at Fossil campsite. This proved to be a tight, wind-blown, mildly unsatisfactory camp with most of our dissatisfaction weather related. It did have the advantage of having a historic road that led both upstream and down. Many of our party hiked down to Lime Creek to see what the campsite there was like. They returned convinced our camp was the better choice.
It was a lazy float in the afternoon, since the upstream wind was calming. We floated under the Mexican Hat Bridge while folks on the road snapped our pictures. Eventually we reached Mendenhall Loop, where a short trail goes to a cabin up on the bench and continues down the other side. One has to travel a couple of miles on the river to make the same distance downstream. Most of our group went up and over while the rest brought the rafts around to pick them up. Continuing downstream, we ultimately stopped at a wonderful camp below the Goosenecks Overlook.
Virtually everyone went hiking in Slickhorn with another hikers' lunch. Five of our group had been here on foot on a previous backpack trip we organized so there were lots of stories going back and forth about where we camped and the hardships, supposed or real, that we had overcome. Several of the more adventurous were cliff diving at the large pool. John sought to stretch the envelope by climbing almost twice as high as the obvious jumping ledge. After looking down, realizing he wouldn't have a running start to get out far enough to clear that lower ledge, he exercised the wisdom of advancing years and retreated to a lower level to continue his plunges. Too soon it was time to leave.
Later a commercial group came in and asked if we would mind if they double camped back in the mouth on the 8-foot ledge. We saw no reason to deny them. As dusk neared and dinner was complete the river ranger, his wife, and a companion cruised up on one raft. We fed them our excess lasagna - folks weren't eating at normal levels so there was a lot left. The River Ranger went down to talk to the commercial folks about their unauthorized camp and then they departed for some undefined ledge downstream. That night the sing-a-long bug struck as Susan lay moaning on her bed of pain. Just about every show tune that Bob could remember from the '40's through '60's got sung. The group mind seemed to know all of the words, even though individuals would frequently flub on the later verses. It was quite a production and must have kept our commercial friends upstream awake for quite some time. When they ran out of show tunes John, who is a great tenor, started into his Irish ditties and regaled everyone with his Ballad of the Tatshenshini. There was a lot of life in these folks yet.
To make a long story shorter, the trip back to the put-in with Ernie was uneventful. We took some time unloading, sorting, and reloading but it happened pretty quickly and the folks going north were off to see the bright lights of Moab. Scott headed off for Albuquerque to see his wife, Tennille. After a quick cleanup in the river we went into burning miles mode and headed for Black Canyon City. With a brief stop in Kayenta for burgers and a refuel in Flagstaff we were home by 9:00 PM Arizona time. Peter straggled in an hour later and John an hour after that with a story of shredded tire changing on a busy freeway in the dark. It had been an adventure but everyone was home safely and except for being ill, we all had a great time.
We must receive your deposit and a completed Q/AR form, for you to be considered for inclusion on one of our trips. If a trip is popular enough to require a waitlist, we will use four criteria to determine who joins the trip. Initial preference will be given to those who have paid the required trip deposit and promptly returned the necessary Q/AR. If this isn't sufficient, we then compare trip deposit dates and lastly Q/AR postmark dates.
