TALES FROM THE CANYON Day 6

TALES FROM THE CANYON

August 17 – 24, 2022

Tuesday, August 23 – Day 6

DUNN: O.G. knows of a Mormon settlement on the Rim of the Canyon

HALL: A settlement on the Rim could take days, a week to get to! The river is the fastest way out, mark my words

(Men On Boats by Jaclyn Backhaus)

Too bad the Powell expedition didn’t have access to a helicopter, cuz that’s how we’re all getting’ out of the canyon tomorrow! Yeah!

One of the primary selling points for me regarding this particular trip was the fact that we get helicoptered out. Depending on the type and length of trip you choose, you either have to hike into the canyon at the beginning or hike out at the end when you’re tired and bedraggled after being on the river for days. So, when Donna informed me after all her research that this trip would include a helicopter ride out, that was it for me. I was sold!

But before I regale you with that fabulousness, we have one last full day on the river to cover.

While Sean and Natalia prepared a breakfast of English muffins, eggs, ham, honeydew melon, and pineapple juice, the rest of us made sandwiches and packed lunches, so we could eat it on the raft. That way we wouldn’t have to stop anywhere because today we would be spending a good chunk of time at Havasu Creek, a favorite spot for river runners between mile 157 and 158.

I sat up front again for most of the morning and had an unobstructed view of more dramatic Lord of the Rings scenery.

My plan was to be in the “bathtub” as much as possible today since this would be our last time on the river. However, I blew it with my timing later in the day when we went through Lava Rapid, the most exciting of all of them. More on that later. . .

Heading down towards Havasu Creek, we ran into several other rafting groups including a bunch of dories, which are small, traditional, beautifully crafted, rigid boats designed to carry four people, plus their guide, and a tremendous amount of gear.

I first learned about them when I read The Emerald Mile by Kevin Fedarko. These are not the cumbersome, heavy wooden boats the Powell expedition used. Had they been in dories, they might have all survived. Maybe.

We made a pit stop a couple of miles before reaching Havasu Creek because Sean told us that he didn’t want anyone attempting to pee anywhere near the trailhead to Havasu Creek. He explained that the water in that spot was dangerous.

“If you fall in, we won’t be seeing you again.” Yikes!

And he wasn’t kidding. The spot where they tied off the raft was basically in the middle of Havasu Rapid, and all of us stared in dumbstruck wonder as Natalia hopped from the raft onto the rocks and secured the rope, while Sean kept the raft as close to the rock wall as possible in the rushing water. They both assisted us in climbing onto the rocks, and we headed up the trail that followed the creek until we reached a pool where we would hang out for a while.

It was another one of those pools that is normally a vivid turquoise color due to the mineral-laden water. This time of year, however, it was more green, but still relatively clean and refreshingly cool.

There was a large rock in the middle of the pool, where a bunch of us gals mingled. Several of us listened with fascination as Jenny and Cheryl answered our questions about women’s health and women’s issues, while others swam or floated down a miniature rapid in the giant inflatable pineapple Natalia carried up from the raft.

Our group had the area all to ourselves for a good half hour, before another party joined us, and Sean and Natalia socialized with the other river guides on a rock ledge for the remainder of the time. As fun and exciting as their job might appear, I’m sure it becomes just another J. O. B. after a while, like anything else. The company of their fellow river guides was probably a welcomed respite away from us “Rim People.” By the time we were getting ready to head back to the raft, more groups had arrived, so our timing was good.

Not so great, however, was my timing for Lava Rapids. (Still kind of kicking myself for that one.) I had read and heard all about Lava Rapids, and I wanted to experience an inkling of the kind of hydraulic ferocity the Powell expedition faced. This rapid has been known to utterly destroy boats and rafts. I knew that on our massive, motorized raft I would be plenty safe, and I wanted to finish the trip with a bang. And while Sean and Natalia had described other big rapids with adjectives like, “Fun” and “Sporty,” Natalia said of this one, “It’s violent. It’s short, but violent.”

Since I had been riding up front most of the day, after Havasu Creek I decided to give someone else a turn and moved to the “Tea Room” to dry out a bit, with the idea that I would again switch just before Lava Rapid. Instead, when I inquired if anyone up front wanted to exchange places, I received a resounding “No.” That’s when sweet Jenny offered to switch her seat with me. (Earlier, while riding shotgun with her in the “bathtub,” she extended an invitation to join her and the others in a game of UNO after dinner. The first time all week that anyone did that. Jenny is a kind, thoughtful person, which probably makes her a great doctor. Her patients are lucky.) I thoroughly appreciated her gesture, but she was on the side of the raft, not even in the “bucket seat” close to the front. And to make matters worse, she was sitting next to “The Problem.” No, thanks! That is not the memory I want to leave this river with. So, I remained in the “Tea Room,” angry at myself for messing up so badly. But do not fret. This story does have a happy ending.

With all the rapids, you can see what you’re heading into as you get closer, and the size of the swell at the beginning is usually a good indicator that you’re in for a wild ride. Over the past six days, at no time did Natalia tighten all the straps on the equipment before heading into a rapid, so when she did this before Lava, I knew these guys weren’t messing around with their warnings.

Even before we reached the swell, or the “tongue” as it is often referred to, the size of the waves were unlike any of the rapids we’d seen before, and the last thing I heard Sean say was, “Hold on TIGHT!”

(This is not Lava Rapid, just an example of the "Tongue")

There are really no words to describe the sensation of going through Lava Rapid. Coming into contact with the force of that water was a truly humbling experience because you realize how tiny we are in the grand scheme of Mother Nature. How arrogant of us humans to think we could ever conquer her. Donna was sitting on the side towards the back of the raft, and somehow managed to take a video of the second half of the rapid. But even a video cannot capture the intensity of the event. The waves were so huge, that the “Tea Room,” which is normally the most stable and driest part of the raft, received a good soaking. From my vantage inside the “Tea Room,” at one point, the front of the raft appeared completely vertical! How on earth did any of those explorers survive this river?

(Ignore the time stamp. Donna couldn't figure out how to adjust it to the correct date.)

Once through, we all cheered for Sean, our fearless leader, and captain. Even with all his experience, that couldn’t have been easy to navigate. What a tremendous responsibility, keeping us all safe and alive! Thank you, Sean. You’re the best!

Soon afterwards, we motored to the nearest beach for a pit stop, a celebration with chocolates, and instructions from Sean about what to expect during our final evening in preparation for the helicopter pickup at 7am the following morning. I was still smarting from my failure to experience that final big rapid from the front of the raft when Mark gifted me with some much-needed perspective. He had been sitting close to the front and also took a video, and said that all you could see on his video was, big wave/raft/sky/wall of mud/rock cliff/raft, and then the sound of everyone cheering.

“No one will ever be able to tell what it’s a video of,” he laughed.

“Actually, that’s perfect,” I laughed with him. “You’ll definitely have to keep that video because you’ll know, and it completely captures how crazy it felt.”

That’s when I realized that experiencing Lava Rapid from the “Tea Room” had a huge benefit because I was sitting up high enough to have an unhindered view of the entire ride. Also, when you’re in the “bathtub” getting walloped, most of the time you have to close your eyes and keep your head down. Thus, you miss seeing a lot of what is happening. From the “Tea Room” I SAW THE WHOLE THING. So I ended up in the best spot after all! Ta-dah!

I’m happy to report that I was back in the “bathtub” for the final stretch before arriving at our camp at mile 187, location of the Whitmore Helipad. All day we had the kind of heat I had been fearing for the entire trip, and the last eight miles provided enough splashes to cool me off.

While we set up camp, Natalia and Sean readied the raft for their journey without us tomorrow morning by deflating the pontoons.

When we head home, they will be traveling 90 more miles downstream before they get off the river.

Despite all their preparations, they still managed one last gourmet meal – Caesar salad, broccoli & cauliflower mix, and chicken pesto with tortellini. More chocolate bars for dessert. Donna and I felt very special when Sean and Natalia came to sit next to us during dinner. Usually they would sit off by themselves or on the raft, so having them with us was a treat.

Mark and Brian also came over to our side of the circle. “I’m gonna miss you most of all, Scarecrow,” I told them.

They both laughed and asked me what I meant.

“That’s what Dorothy says just before she gets into that hot air balloon. You guys are my scarecrow,” I explained.

“Awww,” was their reaction, or something akin to that. I sincerely meant it. They are nice guys, and I will remember them fondly.

We had the pleasure of a beautiful sunset, which was also a special treat because the canyon is so deep, we usually could not see the sunrise or the sunset.

We also witnessed Brian’s final performance of “can smashing.” On our first day, Sean asked us to thoroughly smash our aluminum cans before placing them in the recycling bag, and challenged us to see who could smash their cans the flattest. Since Donna and I were usually barefoot around camp, we would ask someone with shoes on to please smash our beer cans. Brian always had the best form.

It was a hot night, and I didn’t sleep well at all. I got up several times to wet my sarong using the cold water from the large water cooler, and spread it out on top of me to no avail. It would dry in a matter of minutes.

As much fun as this week had been, I was looking forward to finally sleeping in my bed. Seven days was the perfect amount of time. I was ready to go home.