El Grande - Part 2

Part 1 is here.
[Neil's note: I broke up these two posts, into the two distinctive parts of the trip. We had a personnel change, 7 people hiking out, and 3 people hiking out, and while not one part of the trip was better or worse, they were just different.]

Day eight, (continued). We say our good byes to the 7 people hiking out. And start our wait for the 3 hiking in. It's about noon. I hike up the trail a little, and meet the three coming down. The three are in for an awakening. One gets to find out he is rowing one of the boats, gets to warm up on one small rapid, and then gets to row three 8s, that day! The other two get their introduction to rafting, Grand Canyon style, on one of the biggest white water days in the canyon.

We do our introductions, hop in the boats, and are off. I throw my trust into the new captain. We scout Horn Creek Rapid, our first 8 of the day. After the scout,we head out, three boats make it through, we're fourth. We hit the big wave sideways. The right tubes lift off the water. We both throw our bodies to the high side, and miraculously the raft sits back down, still right side up, and still two men in the boat.

Scouting Horn Creek Rapid

We enter the eddy, to wait for the other two boats. I see the other boats in the eddy start to row like mad to get out, and then I see what they are chasing, David's boat comes through upside down, both of the Davids are hanging on. That is also a first ever flip for Devin's dad, with well over 30 years of experience.

We're in position to watch the last boat come through. Sure enough it is upside down, with one guy already on top of it. Luckily the rapid pushed both the boats into an eddy. We flip em back over, and get on our way. We're running late, and decide to camp at the top of the next 8, instead of running it. We sit the groover up, with a perfect view of the rapid, "cause if that doesn't scare the shit out of you, I don't know what does".

Flipping the boats back over.

Granite Camp (mile 93.8)

Day Nine, because of a shortened day eight, today will be our biggest rapid day yet. We hit Granite Rapid (an 8) first thing in the morning. We were religiously putting on the water around 8, if not a little earlier for the last week. This morning, knowing we were going to get wet out of the gate, there was an unspoken knowledge that we were just going to take our time in the morning. We push off at 9 as the sun hits the boats, after scouting the rapid one last time. We all hit the line perfect, or close to it (Devin and Beth VERY nearly got dumped out of their boat).

Next up is Hermit Rapid, another 8, and also possibly one of the funnest rapids in the canyon. A giant roller coaster wave.Devin and Beth in Hermit Rapid

Shortly thereafter is Crystal Rapid (9). Because of water levels, the only run is on the right, barely skirting the HUGE hole that eats pieces of shit like us for breakfast. We all survive.Scouting Crystal Rapid

I get behind the oars, in the rapids, for the first time. I'm hooked. Why hadn't I learned this earlier?

In total, the day closes out with 15 rapids, most of which were ranked 5 or higher. Fun, fun day.

Day ten

I row from the start of the day. I am really hooked. We have a couple small rapids, and then are going to do a short hike. Some of our boats are pulled over. We head over there.

Turns out there is a backpacker that is asking for our help. His friend sprained his ankle. They are three days over-due, and out of food, and 35 miles from the nearest trailhead. We have a satellite phone, but they don't work so well in the canyon. We scrounge up some food, take some detailed notes, push on. We find out later that night, after finally getting a hold of one of their dads, that they got flown out by helicopter later that day.


We stop for our hike, to Elves Chasm. Ahhh-mazing! Little waterfalls and ferns and pools and frogs and awesomeness. The water is a little cold, but we swim non-the-less. It's still a ton warmer than the river.

Elves Chasm

Back on the boats, and we push on. We hook two boats together, take orders, and make sandwiches while floating. We hit our expected camp, and it sucks, so we keep going. The boats spread out.

One more rapid before the next camp, Fossil Rapid (a 5). I'm still behind the oars. It doesn't look bad, a big s-curve in the river, with the rapid lasting a good half mile. I hit the first wave, the 14' boat gets turned a little (pretty common), a lateral wave coming off the rock hits the boat and turns me a little more. I hit the next wave 'not-exactly straight', or... mostly sideways. Carter gets dumped out, and I follow, with the boat coming over shortly there after. I watch the boat come over, the handle of the oar hitting me squarely in the chest. I feel like a cartoon after getting punched, my body pushed deep into the water, arms and legs trailing it. I start to resurface, it starts to get light, and then darkness. I think the boat is over me, but I don't hit anything, and then just as quick, I get pulled back down, cartwheeling under the water. It starts to get light again. I really would like a breath of air at this point. My head pops up. Yes. I look down stream, the boat is about 30 yards away, Carter is even further to the left. I swim like mad to the right shore (the inside of the next S curve). I ALMOST make it, but don't. Close only counts in horse shoes and bocce ball. I get dragged over the rocks. Keeping your feet downstream is a good idea in theory, its a little hard in reality. I see a boat coming in. I get pulled out, just as my muscles were starting to cramp up from swimming a half a mile in water in the high 40s. My boats on shore. I watch my rain jacket surface, and then float around the corner to the next rapid, never to be seen again.

We pull up onto the beach, next to my boat. I'm a little worked. My upper left chest is super stiff, but all in all, I'm no worse for the wear. Carter pulls up in another boat, his swim to the left shore was a little more successful than mine. (I later find out, after the trip, that I had, in fact, dislocated a rib.)

We right the boat, check out this camp, and it sucks too. We push on a little more. I valiantly get back behind the oars, but give them back to Carter before the last rapid of the day (he was cold still from swimming and didn't want to get wet, I didn't really care, and was maybe just a little shaken up still).

We finally pull into a sweet camp, tie up the boats, drink a beer or three, and I break out my hidden booty in the form of a three pound bag of gummy bears. You know, since I flipped the boat and all, kind of a peace offering. More bocce it played, we break one of the balls in half, and fix it with epoxy and duct tape.

Randy's Rock Camp (mile 127.0)

Day eleven. We wake up, and somehow my boat, that I know was tied up, had come untied, and went from parked dead middle of the six boats, to one of the ends. Turns out the bow line had come undone from the boat, and it floated around the other boats through the night. We're lucky it didn't make it out of the eddy and into the current.

I'm back behind the oars, but pass up the chance to run a 6 out of the gate. P5, I know. I did get a 5 or two, and a couple smaller ones that day. We hit Deubendorff Rapid (an 8, and one of the more technical rapids on the river), I'm riding with Devin, and we hit, and nail the meatiest line. Good times.

Who has two thumbs and loves this trip?
This Guy!

Our boats in the narrows.

We pass the narrowest point of the canyon, 76 feet wide and ~100 feet deep. We hit camp right after that, across from Deer Creek Falls, a 186 foot waterfall coming out of what appears to be cliff, but in fact is a slot canyon.

We ferry across the river, with two of our boats, and go hike up to the top and back into the slot. Amazing views and awesome scenery. We hike to what is known as 'the patio', a large flat rock area, surrounded by cottonwoods and a bustling little creek. We swim in the creek a little, and lounge in the sun on the rocks.

Deer Creek Falls

Looking upriver from the top of Deer Creek Falls.
You can see the narrowest part of the river.
Deer Creek Canyon

The swimming hole in Deer Creek.

Deer Creek

Not a bad patio.

Day twelve, and I get to ride with David. He guided on this river 3-4 times, back in the early 70s. Those trips had motors, and huge boats, and they didn't need to scout the rapids. We hit the ONLY rapid that he can remember from those trips. The hole at Upset Rapid (5-6) as changed a little from back then, but was still way funky, you don't want to hit it.

It's one of the chillier days on the river. But, the clouds eventually burn off. We hike a short slot canyon mid day named Matkatamiba Canyon, or Matkat. A narrow slot with a clear stream running down it.

Matkat Canyon

We camp at Ledges, named for what it looks like, a bunch of Ledges in the rock. It has a sweet trickle waterfall that falls directly into the river. I kinda took a shower in it. I also go in search of what the guide book calls an 'agave roasting pit' somewhere above camp. I don't know what an 'agave roasting pit' is, so needless to say, I don't find it.

Ledges Camp (mile 152.1)

However, I am walking along, and hear this sound. At first, I think it is one of them wily desert big horn sheep things. I hear the same sound from multiple places, Oh geez... I'm getting ambushed. BUT... from the direction of the sound, there is nowhere for them to hide, without me seeing them. In my best stalking walk that my flip flops will allow, I creep closer, with my water-proof camera case hanging at the end of a sling, that if need be, can be fashioned into some sort of whipping weapon. I round a corner and 5 frogs, one of which is albino, jumps into a small pool of water, and the sound stops. I make my way back to camp, and notice everyone looking around for what the sound was. They think sheep, but don't believe me one bit that they are frogs. I get a half of an acknowledgment when the sound continues into the night, long after the sheep's bedtime.

Returning from the hike at Ledges.

Day thirteen and we get an early start so we can hike Havasu. I've always wanted to hike this canyon with it's magically blue waters and huge waterfalls juxtaposed against the desert backdrop. This is the hike I was looking forward to the most. The sky was a little threatening at the beginning of the day, not what you really want when going into a canyon known for flash flooding, especially when you can only see a small sliver of sky.

We hiked up, in, through, and around the creek for about 3 hours till we hit Beaver Falls. We didn't make it to the huge falls, but this pool would do. We sessioned a little 10-15 foot cliff jump into the pool of blue water, and then it was time to hike back to the boats, and on for the day.

The confluence of Havasu and the Colorado.

Beaver Falls

Clay's form.

My form.

Boom.

Day fourteen and all that anyone really is thinking about is Lava Falls Rapid, the most difficult, biggest, baddest rapid in the canyon. You can hear this rapid from about half a mile up canyon, where a big volcanic plug called Vulcan's Anvil towers 50 something feet out of the middle of the river. Everyone is pretty quiet or trying to hide their nervousness to hit Lava. We pull up to scout and there is another group there scouting too. When I see the rapid, I am pretty determined that there is no f-ing way anybody can make it through. Then the Canadians go, their boats are bigger than ours, and all their passengers walk around the rapid. They all make it.

Vulcan's Anvil

Scouting Lava Falls Rapid

Then, the first three of our boats decide to go. I'm in the third boat, pretty determined I am going to end up swimming at least part of this rapid. I pull an extra inch to inch and a half out of every strap on my life jacket, and make sure everything else is tied down. The first two boats, our biggest boats, disappear around the corner, I hear a yell of encouragement, but think to myself that there should be more yells if they made it. Carter and I finally push off. He's on the oars and I'm helping to get us lined up. I don't find the fate of our first boats till we are dropping in and see them right side up at the bottom in the eddy... We stand a chance. We hit the first wave, and somehow get straight for the second and get drilled. I do a glance back and don't see Carter, then take a longer look back and see that he was knocked onto the floor of the boat. He finds the oars just in time to straighten us out for the next wave. There is a large wave at the bottom that just builds and builds and then surges and then crashes down, total luck of the draw if it crashes on you. We hit the top of one wave, and I watch the surging wave crash in front of us, sighing relief that it won't crash on us. We made it. Amazingly.

Devin hitting the first lateral in Lava.
Yeah, there's someone on the front of that boat.

David takes a very technical left route and nails it. Clay gets washed out of the 5th boat, but finishes out the rapid hanging onto the front of the boat. The last boat goes, somehow stands on one side-tube without going over, it rights itself, and no one is in the boat. It hits the next wave and somehow someones back into the boat, with the other hanging off the front. They make it the rest of the way through, without one of their oars. Everyone's on Cloud 9 or 10... Hell, we turn it up to 11... everyone's on Cloud 11!

We float on down to our next camp at Whitmore Wash (mile 188.4). It's the hottest day on the river. A couple of us hike over to some petroglyphs and maybe a pictograph or two. Bathing in the cold river water, even in the heat of the day, is a little painful.

Flowering cacti.

Petroglyphs/pictographs at Whitmore Wash.

El scorpion.

Day fifteen, started a little later than usual, we got to sleep in a little, which was Awe-some. I didn't touch the oars once. It was mainly flat water. We spotted a can bobbing in an eddy, the river gave us a PBR this time. Graced with no head winds, we pushed all the way to camp by lunch. There were some old jars you could hike to, the Barton Jars , they sucked, one literally had a piece of shit in it, and the other had a fish skull. However, I did finally find my Native American agave roasting pit, well, it was a different one, but one non-the-less.

Indian Canyon Camp (mile 207.0)

F-in star gazing club.

Day sixteen and our last full day on the river. I get my own boat today, for the most part. I row Devin's boat, while he kayaks. We hit a couple 5s, and find a cool spot to cliff jump, way high. 32-34 feet, or something. We test the water with one of our spare oars, and didn't touch anything. Devin goes first, and claims he barely touched. I am a little sketched, but just run and jump, I hit at a slight angle and didn't touch anything. Cool.

I think I had my nose plugged for at least 5 seconds before I hit the water.

We pull into camp early again, and snag THE BEST bocce ball/whiffle ball campsite EVER (Upper 120 Mile camp). We also break out all the snacks and food that we haven't touched yet. PARADISE.

We play a game of Over/Under whiffle ball. You hit the ball, and then run as many circles around your own team as possible, while the other team fields the ball, runs to the pitchers area, lines up, and passes the ball first over head, and then between the legs through the line, once it gets to the end of the line, the batter is out, and gets as many points as he made complete circles around his own team. Pretty fun.

After what ended as a tie game, we started our grand finale bocce ball tournament, complete with brackets drawn in the sand and candy mascots. Matches to 7, Double elimination. We played till it was dark, with the championship game pushed into the next morning.

We grill the largest steaks you have seen, make blueberry and peach cobbler, and attempt to make a grease bomb. I also found out that the only way peeps are somewhat edible is if you roast them over the campfire, and then eat them... DELICIOUS. We opted not to burn our "burnables", deciding we can carry that much to the take out. We sit around the fire and talk about our highs and lows of the trip, its hard to remove yourself and think back about the last 17 days and pick a particular moment.

It's one of the nicest nights of the trip, with no wind, so everyone sleeps out on a giant mega tarp.

Last day/day seventeen. We float the six miles down to Diamond Creek, our pull out. We make it there and have our boats de-rigged and ready to go by 11. We are greeted with some of the greatest tourists ever. We wait till noon for the shuttle drivers to bring the trucks down, meanwhile eating more leftover snacks.

The second half group shot.

The second tourist we saw after the take out.
The first one was even better.

We drive the hour up the dirt road to the town of Peach Springs, and say good bye to the Utah Contingent. The Colorado Crew head east, some of us stop in Moab for the night, while the others push all the way home.

That first shower was nothing short of amazing.

I've been back for a little over a week now. I just did the laundry from the trip yesterday, I had to wash it twice to get the sand out. My feet are still dry as shit, but healing, my rib is pretty much back into place, and now the goal is to land a job for Alaska (I leave in 3 weeks!).

It is still tough to look back on a high and a low for the trip. I mean, I could have done without flipping a boat, but at the same time, it was a highly comedic situation that we laughed about A LOT! There were too many great moments to pick one out as a high, and it is a little hokey to say the whole trip was the high, but it was.

It was awesome to watch the moon go through almost a complete phase, just a sliver at the beginning, all the way to a full moon at the end. The Big Dipper and Orion danced around in the sky, and it was fun to see where they were each night. You get disoriented only going down the river, and think the right side of the river is north, and the left side south, only to look at a map or the stars and see that that river goes every which way it wants.

We had awesome weather. Mostly sunny for 17 days, with 2 chilly overcast days. The high temps ranged from about low sixties, to 87 at the takeout. The lows at night never got that cold, maybe mid forties. The river was cold, but because of Glen Canyon Dam(n), that doesn't really change. Our timing was IDEAL, as you can't put a motor in the canyon till April 1st, the day after we took out, so there were no commercial trips. Good times all around.

If you EVER need a tall lanky red head to join you for your trip down the Grand, I'm in. Seriously. I would drop everything to go, hell, I already did once, why not do it again!