I blame my desire to shoot the rapids on the mighty Colorado River on my Aunt Bette. As a child, I lived near her in Colorado and whenever she crossed or paralleled a river, Aunt Bette would tease us kids - asking us if we wanted to “shoot the rapids” with her.
We only lived in Colorado for two years, but the thought of rafting a river followed me through the next 40. To fulfill my dream, a friend and I celebrated our 50th birthdays with a guided rafting trip through the Grand Canyon. When I called Aunt Bette to tell her that I was finally going to shoot the rapids, she asked, “Are you crazy?”
The great unknown.
Our trip started in Las Vegas, where we boarded a small plane and flew over the desert to Marble Canyon, Ariz., landing on what looked like an abandoned road. We spent the night at Marble Canyon Lodge, where the 18 trip participants rendezvoused.
The next morning at Lee’s Ferry, below Glen Canyon dam, we piled onto two blue 35-foot motorized pontoon rigs. We loaded the gear on the boats by passing is down a line, just like a bucket brigade. General gear went in a hold beneath the boat and our personal bags piled up in the middle, wrapped in a heavy canvas tarp and roped to the raft. The mound of gear served as our seats. Small dry bags and our day packs held the gear we needed during the day, including cameras.
Every evening, we reversed the process to set up camp.
We headed into “the Great Unknown” as Major John Wesley Powell called it when he and his crew set out in 1869 and became the first people to successfully explore the canyon by river. But there were many differences between our trip and Major Powell’s. Most importantly, our guides knew what was around every bend and what was at the end. We also had much better gear, a satellite phone for emergencies and a boat designed specifically for running the river.
At Lee’s Ferry, the Colorado River ran green, relatively clear and a cool 46 degrees. Navajo bridge marked the beginning of our 84-mile down river trip to Phantom Ranch. Miles are not marked along the river with little green mileposts, but our guidebook - and guides - pointed to every side canyon, rapid, geologic formation and historic site along the way.
Rivers, rocks and canyons
Of the first 60 miles, known as Marble Canyon, Powell wrote, “The limestone of this canyon is so often polished and makes a beautiful marble. The rocks are of many colors - white, gray, pink, and purple, with saffron tints.” It was still as beautiful as he described.
The Grand Canyon proper began around mile 61, at the confluence of the Little Colorado and Colorado rivers. We wore our life jackets like diapers and rode the Little Colorado, thick with silt and mud from recent rains, down a bumpy chute into the Colorado River, which remained brown for the rest of our journey. I had mud in places I dare not mention.
Several of us women formed a screaming chorus through the big rapids, and the men laughed and ribbed us. But soon, the guys also screamed like little girls.
Our worried slipped away as we wound our way through layer upon layer of some of the oldest rock on earth, the oldest layer being 1.8 billion-year-old Vishnu Schist. These layers of mixed sedimentary and metamorphic rock - with naves such as Bright Angel shale, Coconino sandstone, Nankoweap formation, Zoroaster granite and Redwall limestone - formed canyon walls that reached higher and steeper with each mile. Between rapids we discussed every hole, cave, odd geologic formation, rock color and pattern that we observed, while learning about their natural history from our guides.
I liked investigating some of the side canyons, which would sometimes be stream beds that would lead back to a waterfall and pool. My favorites were Clear Creek Canyon, Deer Creek Falls, Havasu Creek, and Elves Chasm. Sometimes, we lingered in these canyons for a soap-free natural shower in warmer, clearer water than the Colorado River.
River rations
Sixteen licensed outfitters run rafts down these rivers, from Salt Lake City. We chose Moki Mac to guide us.
Each day began about 5:30 a.m. with outfitter Connie’s call for “Hot coffee!” After a hearty breakfast, we broke down camp, loaded the boats and got back on the river by 8.
When we pulled ashore each day, the guides quickly set up tables and began slicing, chopping and laying out a sandwich buffet. So began our lunches - courtesy of “Moki Mac-Donalds.’ Rainbow trout swam to the surface near us as we sat along the shore to eat our sandwiches, so that crumbs fell in to the river instead of on the shore, which would attract pesky red ants.
Major Powell’s crew had to stomach spoiling rations, but we were well stocked with fresh food, cold water and ice. The outfitters even brought along boxed wine to add to the ambiance of the days final meal.
Our guides even baked cakes in celebration of two anniversaries and three birthdays that happened along the way, to which guide Trevor would sing a rollicking chorus of “She’s 21 Today.”
No campfires are allowed along the river, but we still set up folding chairs each night and continued the fireside ritual of singing and telling stories.
Skylights
Although the Colorado was my fifth river to white water raft, it was the first where I actually slept on the riverbanks. Each night we staked a claim to sleeping spots on the sandy beach, put down plastic tarps and laid our sleeping pads and bags on top. I felt unrestrained sleeping under such a huge open sky full of stars and often did not crawl inside my bag until the coolness of early morning crept over me.
I would never have believed the nights could be more awesome than the days. Light played on canyon walls before total darkness set in. Then, what seemed like a billion specks of light appeared, and the show if satellites and falling stars began. Moonlight highlighted the canyon tops, and when the full moon peeked over the canyon, it almost substituted for a reading light.
After the moon’s show, the sun followed suit, casting glorious light on rock layers again.
The bittersweet end
Of the early adventurers that unsuccessfully forged the canyon depths, only traces of their presence remained, but their stories survived. For me, the trip was exciting and exhilarating without ever feeling life threatening.
The closest mishap occurred when Connie maneuvered through Dubendorff Rapid and we ended up stuck on a rock, facing upriver for 45 minutes. After a series of maneuvers, rocking the boat and releasing air from pontoons, we returned on course. We assured Connie we trusted her and had no doubt it would all turn out OK, but she said she saw the fear in our eyes. The next morning, we all lined up to get on the other guide’s boat and left Connie standing alone. Fortunately, she had a good sense of humor and we all had a good laugh.
None of us wanted to get off the river when we reached the end - Diamond Creek. But I emerged from the canyon totally stress free, a result of unbridled screaming through the rapids and many good laughs shared with a group of new friends.
Aunt Bette is gone now, but I think of her whenever I remember my experiences shooting the rapids. The only question that begs answering now is, “What river will I run next?”
The desert environment is very fragile, so we practiced Leave No Trace wilderness ethics, including depositing gray water and soapy water into the river rather than the desert. We carried all human waste and trash out of the canyon.
See the action yourself
A videographer recorded the author’s entire trip. To see his video, click here.
How fast is it?
River rapids in the Grand Canyon are rated on a scale of 1 to 10, with 10 being the most difficult. Before we knew the difference, Guide Connie corrected us for referring to the smaller white water areas as rapids, stating that they were riffles. The 225-mile section of the Colorado River from Lee’s Ferry to Diamond Creek ks made of 75 named and countless unnamed riffles and rapids, but we developed out own, easier scale to establish their severity:
If Connie told us to hold on, we knew it was a rapid and not a riffle.
If she said to hold on tight, it was about a 3 or 4. Example: Nankoweap Rapid, a 25-foot drop.
If she told us to put away anything we didn’t want to get wet, or as the other guide, Matt, would say, “Get out anything you want to get wet!” it must have been around a 5 or 6. Example: Sockdolager Rapid, which dropped 19 feet.
If Connie told us to brace ourselves and hold onto the ropes, we figured is must be about a 7 or 8. Example: Hance Rapid with its 30-foot drop.
“Sit on the floor and hold on!” meant wild and wet. Example: Lava Falls, the granddaddy of all Grand Canyon Rapids.
Contact Moki Mac River Expeditions at (800) 284-7280 or info@mokimac.com
To compare rafting companies or plan a trip, visit the Grand Canyon River Outfitters Web site at www.gcroa.org
Choose your craft
Consider your level of experience, available time, and threshold for adventure before choosing your rig.
J-rig motorized inflatable rafts accommodate large groups and to through the canyon faster.
Motorized, inflatable pontoon boats - ranging from 17 to 35 feet long - are safe, durable and allow more time to explore.
Inflatable oar-powered rafts carry fewer passengers and take longer, but offer a more intimate connection to the river.
Inflatable paddle boats, in which all passengers paddle under the direction of a paddle captain, hold fewer passengers and take longer.
Wooden oar-powered dories are about 18 feet long, carry only three to four passengers, and take the longest time to compete the journey.
Some outfitters take along inflatable kayak for diehard thrill-seekers who wish to maneuver through some rapids.
Some outfitters offer kayak-support trips for those who have their own kayak but need a boat to carry their gear, or themselves, when they don’t want to tackle certain rapids.
