July '96 Newsletter

With the arrival of the warm, longer days of spring, we were eager to wander in our beautiful Southwestern deserts. College breaks during the last few weeks of March and early April caused the backcountry at Grand Canyon to be full. Since we hadn't made reservations four months in advance, we couldn't backpack there. We turned instead to the Superstition Mountains east of Phoenix and the Eagletails on the west side for several short multi-day backpacks which we hoped would tune us up for later group trips. We also spent some time preparing our rafting gear, fully expecting to be doing weekend day runs and a through trip on the Salt River, only to be totally disappointed as you will eventually read.

Susan's niece Heidi visited us on her spring break from Tulane. She had never been to this part of the country before so we took her to Grand Canyon. We exercised our shutter fingers at the West Rim Drive viewpoints to Hermit's Rest, hiked down the Grandview Trail, visited the Cave of the Dome, and climbed on top of the knoll on Horseshoe Mesa. Heidi was impressed with the big ditch and would like to come back sometime. We drove out the East Rim Drive to Cameron, stopping at many of the Indian jewelry stands along the way. Wupatki was uncrowded, so we spent several hours there wandering among the ruins. Later, we drove through Oak Creek Canyon, eventually finding a beautiful creekside campsite. Shopping at Sedona's Tlaquepaque finally wore us out the next day so we continued on to the ruins at Montezuma Well and Montezuma Castle. Heidi got a kick out of picking grapefruit at some friends' house in Phoenix and we sent her home with about 30 pounds of it. She stayed with us for six days but it seemed like two. It was great fun having a 19 year old around.

It is Susan's year for family visitors dropping in. The last week in April her younger brother, Kevin, who lives in Nevada stopped by for a short visit. Unfortunately, the Lone Fire on Four Peaks was raging so it was pointless to take him anywhere for views. This fire eventually burned off the whole top of the mountain ruining the area for future use, all because of a camper's failure to extinguish their campfire. Susan took Kevin for a bike ride and all of us went out for Mexican food. He'd been driving too long and the visit was too short to do much but we enjoyed his company and are hoping to meet him at Lake Mead sometime this fall.

We were fortunate to pick up a call-in permit for a Grand Canyon raft trip. On August 19, we start our third one boat, two person trip. For those of you who aren't aware of how easy it is to get a Grand Canyon permit this is how we made it happen. Susan put her name on the Grand Canyon's list in February of 1995, anyone can do this each February with a $25.00 application fee. Starting in March she phoned in approximately 125 times over a 3 month period; all calls were less than a minute long. That sounds pretty difficult but there were 8 dates available to her during that period. Bob put his name on the list this February and he's allowed one private trip before his name will be removed from the list.

After writing this opening, we realized that things have gone rather smoothly this spring and summer and we've had lots of travel time. We've seriously cut back club activities which cost us a lot of free time and nothing major has gone wrong at the apartments. We had to fix a broken sewer line, had other temporary setbacks and minor repairs, but most of the time we've been out having fun.

1996 Trip Reports:

Superstition Backpacks (3/96):

Neither of us had seen the cliff dwellings in Rogers Canyon, Susan had never been to Reavis Ranch, and Bob hadn't been there for 20 years, so off we went in search of adventure. We hiked to the ruins from the Woodbury Trailhead. It was only a little over 5 miles but the nearly 3000' of elevation change did get our attention. The cliff dwellings were well worth the effort. They are well preserved and seem to have suffered little damage from the many visitors they receive each year. We spent a night near the ruins and the next day left for the Rogers Trough Trailhead, returning via a four wheel road and a short cut cow trail.

Walking back, we concluded that our 2 wheel truck could handle the roads and decided to immediately return to this beautiful area. A week later, we drove to this trailhead and hiked to Reavis Ranch. We happened to be camped at Reavis on one of the best nights for sighting the Hyakutake Comet. In order to leave our view of the heavens unobstructed, we simply laid our tarp over the top of our bed. The comet was near the north star that evening, so its tail spiraled around it during our occasional periods of wakefulness. The temperatures dropped below freezing and in the morning we had a layer of ice on both the inside and outside of our tarp. Unprepared for winter-like camping experience at 4000+ feet elevations, short days and cold temperatures, we quickly decided to pack it in before we got bedsores or frostbite.

Salt River Raft (4/10/96-4/16/96):

We planned to organize a trip with friends and Paddlers Club members if we were lucky enough to draw in the first-ever Salt River permit lottery. The good news was Bob got lucky and did draw a permit. The bad news was there was no water on his launch date, or any other date this spring, the river never flowed above 250 cfs. Rather than spend a week pushing the gear 50 miles down a slightly damp river bed, we opted to cancel this trip, reluctantly returning our unused permit to the Tonto National Forest.

Fortunately, we were able to get a last minute permit to backpack down the Bright Angel Trail and out the Hermit Trail at Grand Canyon. We camped at Salt Creek, Monument, Granite, Monument again and then hiked out. It was a great trip and we encountered some very interesting people. A group of three men we met was in the middle of a 28 day hike from Tanner to Havasupai. One had to hike to the Rim to have a tooth fixed the first day, another had to replace his boots at Grand Canyon Village, the third was hoping to make the whole trip without visiting the Rim. They stopped long enough to share coffee and pleasant conversation one morning. Another group of three Canadian broadcasters who was headed to Las Vegas for a convention kept us entertained at Monument Camp.

We were only able to get the permit we got because someone who had reserved earlier had the courtesy to cancel when their plans changed. For the number of permits issued, we ran into relatively few people. Most were in groups of two or three. We were the only hikers camped at Salt Creek and at Granite Rapid. To complete Susan's line from the Little Colorado to Bass Trail, we plan to return this fall and hike from Grandview to the Bright Angel. We were pleasantly surprised by the number of flowers blooming in the Canyon and by the abundance of water sources along the Tonto. With the dry year Arizona has experienced, we expected neither. The Redbud trees were in full bloom and the Beavertail cacti were just getting started.

We enjoyed spending a couple of days beside the Colorado. The river's 40,000 cfs eight day flush had piled new beach sand below Granite Rapid but it was already being cut away by the lapping tail waves. The overall size of both the upper and lower Granite Rapid beaches seemed little changed. We are hoping that sand deposits have been more successful in other areas of the Canyon and that the river doesn't quickly reclaim much of these new deposits by undermining the steeper cut banks. A 4/17/96 Phoenix Republic and Gazette article stated that initial evaluations after the flood flush show some beaches increased in size by up to 30% and that most of the benefit was accomplished in a couple of days, meaning that future flushes could possibly be of shorter duration.

Our hike out on the Hermit Trail took us about five hours. We left Monument early to make sure that we made it up the Cathedral Staircase in the shade. We took frequent rest breaks and stopped for an early lunch at Santa Maria Springs. When we reached Hermit's Rest, one of us planned to stay with our packs while the other caught a ride to the Bright Angel to pick up our truck. We asked a few people with no luck, but then a dentist from Tennessee strolled over and offered to take both of us and our packs. In Scottsdale for a dental seminar, Bob Hastings and his office staff entourage of six gals had rented a fifteen passenger van to take in the Arizona sights over the weekend. They loaded us in and dropped us back at the Bright Angel trailhead. We gave them some tips on what to see next and away they went.

Slickhorn/Grand Gulch Backpack (5/19/96-5/25/96):

After talking to the BLM ranger, we were happy we'd arrived two days early and allowed some time for pre-trip scouting. Other hikers' water reports were grim for the Collins Trailhead area of the Gulch so we radically changed our plans. The access road for Slickhorn was good gravel, as was the road to the drill hole beside Grand Gulch where we now planned to begin on our trek. The dilemma of the day was finding a route which would get us into Water Canyon with minimum obstacles. We struck out with a couple quarts of water and some snacks for what we figured would be a few hours of route checking. We walked the high sandstone domes trying to spot trail, water, and potential canyon accesses. On our first try, we hit a thirty foot drop which wasn't passable without rope and hardware. We headed back to the rim for more wandering and finally found a route down in the next arm. Because of the convoluted mesa top, neither ranger could accurately pinpoint this access on a map. After finding the route, we understood why. We hiked down almost to the main canyon to make sure we could get the group down with packs. Our plan formulated, we headed back to the truck for mass quantities of fluids and a pleasant evening of star-gazing.

Everyone turned up at the meeting place on time and one of the BLM rangers gave us a talk on ruins, showing us a small site behind their facility. After leaving vehicles at two possible exits from Slickhorn Canyon, we headed for Water Canyon. Our first rest stop turned into lunch when Peter and Marilyn realized that we had forgotten to pass out the goodie bags. Carl and Susie hiked back to the truck to retrieve them while the rest of the group rested in the shade and set up lunch. It was about 90 degrees that day and we were using water at a ferocious rate. We passed the two tricky spots with a minimum of difficulty and pack passing, then found a clean shaded pool to refill our canteens. Our only casualty was the loss of one of Ken's leather gloves at one of the boulder field bypasses. We reached camp by 2:00 PM but it felt like 6:00. Funny how heat and dehydration will do that. We lazed around, showered with our water bags and played some cards.

The second morning, most of the group dayhiked upstream to view a large pictograph panel in the main canyon, while Susie guarded the food from raven thieves. We moved our camp downstream, stopping along the way at Grand Arch. This massive arch was a popular Anasazi site and its walls are covered with pictographs and petroglyphs. There was a trail going into the Rincon across from the arch, so we checked it out in search of more ruins. We found only a few rough petroglyphs and on the way back out Susie sprained her ankle badly. We were still several miles from camp, so she laced her boot as tight as possible and trudged on. Carl, always the gentleman, reached camp ahead of the group and came back to carry her pack. Even after a soak in the creek, her ankle doubled in size. Nurse Bob wrapped it with an Ace bandage and she orchestrated dinner from a mostly prone position.

Carl and Bob made it out on top from this side canyon the next morning while Amy and Gary explored a rudimentary ruin. Most of the group was content to laze in the shade with their books, while waiting for the adventurers to return for what would be one of our most rigorous days. Towards the river, the canyon gets quite a bit harder to negotiate. Large boulder fields choke the streambed and high bypasses take a lot of energy. One driftwood field that we hit was reminiscent of seacoast backpacking. On our way down we met a commercially guided party of six or eight people who were hiking out from a rafting trip and also a family rafting group of three who were camping at the mouth. Carl, again went ahead and came back to help get Susie's pack through some of the more difficult bypasses. It was a happy group that finally reached the San Juan. When Susie straggled in, she could hear them down splashing and playing, bathing and laundering.

Our neighbors brought over a twelve pack of beer to share with us that night and generously agreed to take out our garbage. The ranger had told us horror stories about having to hike high above the river carrying 6 quarts of water each all of the way to Slickhorn and we wanted to start as early and lightly as possible the next morning. Carl scouted the route and we found that we were able to stay close to the river all of the way. There was one narrow ledge where a gear passing mishap forced us to sacrifice the Laskowski Memorial Hiking Stick to the river gods, but we made it to Slickhorn quickly and without incident. Susie was able to carry her own pack into camp that day and for the rest of the trip.

Slickhorn was inundated by raft groups. We arrived early in the day and chose one site to have a bathing party. By lunch time, most of the river traffic had showed up to claim their camps, so we moved up canyon to find a home of our own. Some members of our group had notions of trying to keep the rafters from swimming in our drinking water. They soon realized that it would be impossible and we all joined in frolicking in the biggest pool. We camped on the limestone benches just above where most of the rafters turn around. This year Slickhorn's pools aren't as numerous or as deep as they normally would be but they were more than adequate.

Hiking up Slickhorn to our next camp wasn't difficult. It was in this stretch that we saw the biggest variety of wildflowers on the trip. We searched for fabled petroglyphs but were disappointed by what we found. Some of the reed thrashes through the streambed were jungle-like but we finally broke out into the open and found a horse camp that we could call home at the mouth of Access 6. Clouds had started moving in that morning and our weather was cooling. We set up our tarp and were spattered with rain ever so briefly while we cooked dinner. We awoke to clouds and cooler weather but no rain. We found the best set of cliff dwellings in Access 6: a perfect granary with door slab intact, a kiva ladder with the rungs on the floor below it, and excellent examples of the waddle and dab building technique. Not to mention corn cobs and a variety of styles of pottery shards.

An easy hike to Access 4, left us with the afternoon to explore. We set up camp under an overhang and struck out for adventure. We immediately found a low ruin with granaries and a huge tool sharpening rock. We explored a lot of trails but were having difficulty locating more ruins. After we split up into smaller groups, Amy, Gary and Ken hiked out to the top and found four perfect granaries. Carl and John found a set of ruins several hundred feet above the streambed that had a perilous bridge route connecting one ledge to another. Susie and Bob spotted a tower ruin on the rim and were able to get within 100 vertical feet from it but were unwilling to scale an 800 year old log to get up the last Cedar Mesa cliff face. Blue ran into day hikers who reported ruin sites and a perfect kiva on our route out.

Our last night was a cold and windy one. It was tough to keep the stoves going and tougher to keep the cards from the Hearts game under control. By this time, Scott had won most of the Hearts games, establishing himself as the real expert. It became quite obvious that Peter and Bob could refrain from giving him advice. Four of us were camped under the overhang but had to get up during the night and turn sideways to avoid wet feet. Amy slept in a puddle and arrived at breakfast more tired than when she'd left us the night before. She was somewhat consoled by the fact that it wasn't her worst outdoor experience. She had recently spent a long night with a friend in an abandoned refrigerator to keep warm while hiking in the Florida Keys, after a cold tropical storm caught them underdressed in a coastal swamp. When we left camp the next morning, it was overcast but not raining. Half of us stopped to investigate a ruin while the rest trudged on. When the rain started, the ruin investigating came to an abrupt halt. The homing instinct took control and it was a race for the cars. After one false start, we found a precipitous trail out of the canyon bottom and struggled to the rim where we regrouped and split up to find the cars.

The weather cleared momentarily, in time for us to shuttle our vehicles and set up lunch. Craig, who is enjoying his first free summer after retiring from police work, drove us back to our vehicles. We split up, headed for home, and it almost immediately started to hail. Hail and rain turned to snow and by the time we reached Mexican Hat everything was covered with a coat of winter white. We decided that between Susie's injured ankle and the cold weather perhaps it would be best to head for Phoenix rather than backpacking into Keet Seel the next day as we originally planned.

Participants:

Craig Camp, Peter Curia, Susan Groth, John Justice, Bob Marley, Scott McCollough, Ken McGinty, Carl Muller, Amy Patterson, Gary Patterson, Marilyn Sloan, and Blue Stringer.

San Juan Raft (6/10/96-6/16/96):

We met at Sand Island and quickly went to work rigging boats and sorting gear. Linda was the lucky one who was drawn in the February lottery and this time we were lucky with the water as well. A couple of weeks before the trip we were distressed when the water level dropped to 1000 cfs for a week but fortunately the upstream dam had a scheduled 2500 cfs release for 30 days. The Animas River perked up when hotter temperatures followed and we found ourselves at the river with 3300 cfs to play on. After dropping a couple of vehicles with our shuttle driver in Blanding the first afternoon, we munched down a great dinner and settled in to dream of our upcoming adventure. We ran long the first day, stopping at Butler Wash and River House to check out petroglyph and ruin sites. There wasn't much private river traffic and we secured a great campsite at Eight Foot Rapid. When we arrived there were 5-10 Bighorn Sheep happily munching grasses on the hillside by our camp.

They say most river accidents happen in camp and our first night's dinner resulted in the first casualty of the trip. One of the extra hot peaches got loose from the cobbler and jumped onto Jim's finger. The resulting half inch blister was promptly named Gilbert Grape and became a trip-long curiosity. The next incident was an attack on the Avon that night by fire grates which had been attached to its side. The resulting hole had to be patched the next morning when we discovered a flaccid rear tube. Unfortunately, lack of adequate patch drying time meant that we had to redo it that evening. We've been hanging the grates off one of the rafts to soak for years but have decided to attach them to something else from now on.

After negative Grand Canyon swimming experiences, Linda has overcome her boating fears and is really getting into river trips. Sandy brought an inflatable kayak and Linda spent most of the on-river time whooping and hollering as they tandem paddled through the rapids. Dick was the paddle raft captain and as it turned out also the group's birthday boy. For his special day John Henry and Deborah brought candy cane coffee for a treat; 3 fighter jets swooped low over the river as we boated through deep canyons; he got to wear a burger king crown provided by Charlotte at dinner; we had the traditional birthday banner up in the kitchen area; there was a delicious poppyseed cake with candles; and lastly, shadow puppets played on the towering red slickrock wall behind the kitchen at our Slickhorn campsite. Dick also had fun with other private groups' kids, retaliating with his water cannon when attacked with inferior firepower.

Several of the days had light overcast which helped keep the temperatures down. The hiking conditions were so good that most of us made it out on top at the Honaker Trail for great views of Monument Valley at mid-day. The large swimming pool at Slickhorn was substantially smaller and warmer but also less crowded than when we were there a few weeks earlier. Susan coaxed Deborah into two death defying leaps from a high ledge into this pool. Pictures were taken, but apparently the photographer only caught the splash. She's going to have to go back and do it again. Since the downstream run to Grand Gulch was short, we hiked up onto the old mining road at Slickhorn. The overcast skies eventually brought rain somewhere in the high country and we woke up to bright orange water that morning. It was hot at Grand Gulch so we spent most of our time washing up or relaxing in the shade. Bridge was the game of choice on this trip with reading a strong second activity.

This was also our first trip with a virtual trip participant. Well he was actually there, but we did meet him on the Internet. Carl kept us all entertained with his quick wit and interesting gear. When we first saw him he looked like he had been in the outdoors for months, darkly tanned, but he promptly got a sunburn. I guess that high desert sun is brighter than the California beach sunshine. His blue nose coating combined with his umbrella hat to prevent further burning but made for quite a sight on the river. He also introduced us to his rainbow colored Not-A-Chair contraption. After this trip he was on his way to further adventures on rivers in Idaho.

We were meeting the shuttled vehicles at 11:00 AM so we left camp quickly the last morning. Charlotte awoke to find a scorpion in her bedding which helped get her going. We deflated the paddle raft and the inflatable kayak, attached the motor to the Avon and the Avon to the Achilles, and motored after leaving Grand Gulch since there was virtually no current. Brown water and submerged sandbars made the going slow. John Henry and several others took turns checking the depth for us with a paddle to prevent running the motor aground. At the take-out, a woman from another private group came over and bucketed us repeatedly while we were cleaning one of the rafts. Susan waited until she turned to walk away, then like a shark she tackled her from behind, swishing her every which way under the water.

The clean-up went quickly, our shuttle drivers arrived on time, and away we went back to Sand Island for lunch and good-byes. The two of us headed for the cooler country of Devil's Canyon Campground near Monticello for a solar shower and media blitz of newspapers. We did laundry in Moab and then headed up into the La Sals for a few days to keep cool and laze around. The only complication for these two days of wandering was locking five sets of door keys in the truck all at the same time and standing there wondering what to do next. We decided to hike up a mountain to think about it and while up there saw there was someone living a mile or so up the road. Off we went on foot to meet our new neighbor. Fortunately he had bolt cutters which made fast work of the padlock we had on the back of the rental truck.

Participants:

Charlotte Ekback, Dick Elwyn, Carl Gettleman, Susan Groth, Jim Laskowski, Bob Marley, Elizabeth Mason, Linda Newmark, Sandy Newmark, Deborah Smith, John Henry Smith, and Anita Stafford.

Stillwater Canoe (6/22/96-6/26/96):

After finishing up the last minute shopping in Moab, we met up with the six other folks who would be accompanying us for both the canoe trip and rafting Cataract. Ted agreed to drive as back-up for the big truck and away we went. Braving the Mineral Bottom Road in the big Hertz rental truck proved to be the most nerve racking portion of the canoe trip. Some of us walked major sections of it after we started smelling brake linings. It took a few hours to unload all of the gear and rig the boats. We had heard some mosquito horror stories but were pleasantly surprised that they weren't too bad at the put-in and never really bothered us downstream. After a makeshift dinner and catching up on the Texas news, we retired early. Bob and Ted were up and off at 5:30 AM to shuttle the vehicles and meet the rest of our group. Meanwhile, the rest of us slugs had a leisurely breakfast and tried to sort out what was left to load on the two rafts. Tex's Riverways had left us several canoes the day before so we had some loaded and launched before the others arrived. After more loading and a couple of safety talks, we were off in search of adventure. Some of our folks hadn't canoed before, so finding adventure was even easier for them.

To save time, we ate a floating lunch the first day. We had lashed the Avon and Achilles together for tandem rowing against the wind. With 3-4 canoes on either side, we had quite the flotilla. After lunch, the rafts motored off to secure the campsite at Tent Bottom while the canoeists checked out Outlaw Cabin at Fort Bottom. It was late enough and hot enough that no one hiked to the hilltop ruin. Unfortunately, when the canoeists got back on the water, one of them misplaced her camera. Upon arriving in camp, she realized that it was gone and she and Bob canoed back across the river to look for it. They didn't find the camera and Bob was a attacked by a sharpened, burned pongee stick. The silver dollar sized hole in his leg bled for several days and was full of charcoal. We were concerned about blood poisoning and infection but luckily that didn't happen. The Tent Bottom Camp was a large one and featured one of our most spectacular groover sites: On a hill overlooking camp, or was camp over looking it? We had a couple of honeymooners along. We hummed "Here Comes the Bride" and threw birdseed over them when they arrived for dinner that night.

While the canoeists checked out the excellent petroglyph panel at Anderson Bottom, we motored off to secure the only large group sized camp at Turk's Head. There were a number of single women on this trip so we invited two cute young men we had met at the put-in to join us for dinner that night. Most everyone hiked up to see the ruins. They found more granaries and walls than we had ever found there before. With the high temperatures, we were using about 20 gallons of water a day, so our petro- engineer, Joe, began making water in earnest. Since we had reached a point in the canyon where large campsites are at a premium, we again motored off to secure the camp at Jasper by noon, leaving the canoeists to explore. This was perhaps our hottest day, and it was evident by the number of people collapsed in the shade at camp, reading and snoozing. George and Susie selected and constructed an excellent groover spot. George may have found his calling here. John Nicklos canceled from the trip at the last minute, but we had a birthday party for him anyway. While the cake was baking, we enjoyed a rousing game of butt darts. By not wearing lycra, Susie did much better this time around but found that the competition in this group was pretty stiff. Dinner precluded a championship round but there is always a next time.

Armed with a trail lunch, the canoes headed for Water Canyon to do some hiking. We had planned to motor down to the sign-in board at the Confluence and schedule all the rest of our camps but our gas situation was dismal so we rowed down in tandem, mostly against stiff winds. We were the first to arrive at the board that day and were able to secure great camps for the rest of the trip. While trying to land our 34' barge at the board, Bob dumped Susie off onto a steep bank of what felt like concrete. She couldn't scramble up or dig in and was eventually dragged down river behind the boats for 20 feet to a better landing spot. With the high water the Upper camp at Spanish Bottom was the best available site and we grabbed it.

Canoes started arriving in the late afternoon. Two canoes with four people came in without incident, commenting on how the character of the water had changed with the addition of the Colorado's volume. On an eddy line a hundred yards above camp one of the canoes capsized. Another canoe attempted rescue and lost one of its occupants in a daring paddle rescue. So here they were in the eddy, one canoe towing a second upside down, with three people swimming different directions, and six of us yelling different instructions from the shore. The Marx brothers would have been proud. It was confusing but finally everything was under control. Luckily the overturned canoe had been rigged securely. Our only losses were a hat and the dousing of a camera. The names have been omitted to save embarrassment to them or their rescuers.

Participants:

Carolyn Balliet, George Bartunek, Mary & Ted Bruning, Dan Courtney, Susan Groth, Joe Johnson, Bob Marley, Wanda Mattarocci, Shari McClure, Donna & Jerry Nordberg, Sue Purtill, Jan Schneider, Michelle Seberson, and Marilyn Sloan.

Cataract Canyon Raft (6/26/96-6/30/96):

In the morning, most of us hiked up to the Dollhouse. The NPS has done a lot of trail work and restrictive signing. Many of the areas in the Maze are now closed to all types of use and the stay-on-the-trail government office-worker mentality seems to be prevailing. Both of us were disappointed to see that the rise in traffic has resulted in the NPS taking this position. Bob is expecting handrails along the solitary, short trail the next time we visit. While up top, we talked to a commercial boatman who had been getting radio information on the water levels. He warned us that Cataract was running 34,800 cfs; we had been hoping for 16-20,000 cfs.

Tex's Riverways left us a can of gas at Spanish Bottom that morning. After toting it a mile back to camp, having lunch, and rigging for flip, we couldn't think of any excuses not to go; so we suited up and headed for Mile Long and the Big Drops. Occasional showers and dark clouds added to the ominous roar of the rapids. We made a scouting stop at the head of Mile Long. It ran pretty clean, but it was easy to see how boats had flipped there recently. A commercial flipped a 27' j-rig in the Button Hole the week before, so we were cautious. Ted instituted overboard drills to prepare everyone for the possibility and several people added crotch straps to their life vests to make sure they stayed in place if they became swimmers.

It was BIG water and it was happening so fast, we lost track of where we were, exited Mile Long, and ran the Big Drops without scouting. We didn't know it was over until we checked the map. Bob's far left run of Satan's Gut filled the Avon. The Tomato paddle raft ran it also but escaped unscathed. We were relieved to be done, right side up, and close to camp. It was tired out in camp that night, actually it took several days to recover from the massive adrenaline surges which occurred in less than 10-20 minutes.

The river rapidly lost current after our Imperial Canyon campsite so we lashed all four rafts together the next day and cranked up the motor. After a quick lunch, followed by hiking in Clearwater, we pushed on to Dark Canyon for our camp. We had planned to hike Bowdie but the high Lake levels made it tough to get into. As we entered the mouth of Dark, we noticed a herd of Bighorn heading for higher, safer country. The Lake is now so high that our camp was quite a ways back in the canyon. Some of us hiked Dark that afternoon. It was pretty as always but storms in the high country muddied the water. The moonlight on the towering Canyon walls was spectacular that evening. Four large groups camped in Dark and one of the commercials confided that they had flipped a 22' oared boat in the Gut that day. Around dark, a private group of hearty partyers pulled in. Fortunately, they retired fairly early. We had to chuckle the next morning when they motored deeper into Dark thinking they were headed for the Lake. Apparently they were a little disoriented when they pulled in. Kay belted out "Mariah" for our morning group of hikers on their way back to camp in the paddle raft. We left Dark after lunch with no idea of where our last night's camp would be.

A stretch and a swim at Mille Crag Bend revived us for more motoring and we found a beautiful camp just after entering Lake Powell. Shade was a scarce commodity and many people occupied themselves rigging cabanas, while others filtered water, fished, and swam. Dinner was deluxe. Charlotte made her famous garlic sauce for the steaks and Joe prepared gourmet Cepes mushrooms in wine sauce. The moon was full and some couldn't resist Bob's moonlight hike up into the water pockets. Others lazed around the kitchen shooting the breeze and digesting. It was a great last night.

Participants:

Mary & Ted Bruning, Dan Courtney, Ron Dilks, Charlotte Ekback, Linda Gober, Susan Groth, Joe Johnson, Bob Marley, Wanda Mattarocci, Marge Padgett, Gary & Trudy Patterson, Jan Schneider, Anne Seebold-Dilks, and Kay Threlkeld.

Future Trips:

We plan to use e-mail more and would eventually like to send most information electronically. If you want to be the first to know what's going on next year, send us your e-mail address. We'll continue to communicate unique travel opportunities by 'special mailings' to those who travel with us frequently and who have a mailing application on file (for those of you who haven't returned the '96 application, we've included another so you can help us bring our computer records up to date and insure your future mailings).

We've had a great response to the trips we've done so far this year and especially want to thank the participants who made the trips so enjoyable. If we haven't seen you this year, we hope that you may join us yet. There is space left on the Green River raft trip, Anasazi van trip, and the Navajo Mountain backpack. We've also added a Copper Canyon backpack in Mexico. If you can't join us this year, we look forward to traveling with you at some future time.

Best of luck in your adventures, work, and personal life.

Susan & Bob

Updated on Friday, May 30, 2008 @ 3:30 MST © 1995-2008 by Robert R. Marley