Canyonlands by Canoe

Original Trip Description: (June 22-26, 1996)
Huge, southwestern Canyonlands National Park is divided by the Colorado and Green Rivers into three sections: the Island in the Sky, the Maze, and the Needles areas. We will paddle our 17' Grumman canoes 55 miles in five days from Mineral Bottom to Spanish Bottom, a few short miles below the confluence of the Green and Colorado.
Along the way we will explore prehistoric Fremont Indian ruin sites and hike many of the Park's fabulous side canyons while floating through Stillwater Canyon which was named by Major John Wesley Powell, the Colorado Plateau's most famous explorer. There may be time to hike to the Doll House from the jet boat pickup point at Spanish Bottom.
An 18' and a 16' raft will be used to carry our complete river kitchen plus all of the fresh food and supplies necessary to prepare sumptuous western meals. A park concessionaire, Tex's Riverways, will whisk our group, and the rental canoes, fifty miles up the Colorado River on the last day of our trip, returning them to their vehicles in Moab. The trip is rated leisurely to moderate (L/M).
Originates @ Moab, UT.

Doll House View

Mud Warrior

Trip Report:

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 Canyonlands canoe and Cataract raft trips. 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 camp at the 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 to 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 Cataract 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 so we grabbed it.

Canoes started arriving in the late afternoon. The first two canoes came into camp without incident. Their four occupants commented on how the intensity of the water had changed with the addition of the Colorado's volume. On an eddy line a hundred yards above camp, the next canoe capsized. Another canoe attempted rescue and lost one of its paddlers in a daring 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 on shore yelling different instructions. 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.