TALES FROM THE CANYON Day 7
- pattyfloresreinhar
- Sep 20, 2022
- 7 min read
Updated: Feb 13
TALES FROM THE CANYON
August 17 – 24, 2022
Wednesday, August 24 – Day 7
DUNN. I think. . . I think we’re here.
POWELL. The Big Canyon. This is it.
SUMNER. Holy shit.
ALL. What a chamber for a resting place is this:
BRADLEY. Hewn from solid rock
OLD SHADY. Heavens for a ceiling
POWELL. Cascade fountains within
SUMNER. A grove in the conservatory
DUNN. Clear lakelets for a refreshing bath
HALL. An outlook through the doorway
HAWKINS. On a raging river
O.G. and SENECA. With cliffs and mountains beyond.
(Men On Boats by Jaclyn Backhaus)

Long before the sun appeared, I saw the lights from Sean and Natalia’s headlamps. The first helicopter would be arriving at 7am sharp, and they had two long days ahead of them. As soon as the last of our group gets airlifted out of the canyon, Sean and Natalia will be heading down river towards Lake Mead. Tonight they will sleep on the raft and still had a lot of work ahead of them once they reached their destination before they made it back home to Flagstaff sometime on Thursday evening.
“I can’t believe I’ll be in a suit on Friday,” Natalia said, referring to her “Rim Life” as an attorney. Sean would have two days off before getting ready to take another motley crew on this river adventure.
“When Natalia isn’t with you, how many other river guides do you work with?” I asked him.
“About three or four,” he replied.
“Do you get along well with all of them?”
Sean gave me a sly smile, but with true diplomacy, didn’t answer my question. He and Natalia shared a knowing glance. See? Every group has someone who is a potential “Problem.”

After a continental breakfast of muffins, fruit, cereal, and juice (the kind of breakfast I was expecting to have all along, not the gourmet feasts they spoiled us with), we finished packing and took some final photos.
It was funny that it wasn't until after an entire week, Donna, Mark, Brian, and I finally shared photos of our families with each other. We had been talking about our loved ones all week long, and it was like one last gesture of camaraderie by putting faces to their names.
After helping to load the raft, we moved our luggage near the staging area below the helipad. Sean explained what would happen once the helicopter arrived.
“You’ll be greeted by a very nice, clean-cut Mormon guy who will give you important instructions,” Sean told us. “Pay very close attention.”
While Sean was talking to us, another rafting group landed on our beach and joined us. They were also heading out today. This group had been on the river for twelve days and unlike us, had actually been rowing.
“Did you guys do Lava Rapid?” one of the tall strapping young lads asked after introduction were made.
“Yes!” I said. “Wasn’t that crazy?”
“Oh, man,” he said, wide-eyed. “I really thought I was gonna die!”
Wow, I thought. If this brawny young dude was that scared, then I’m even more grateful I went through that rapid in the safety of the “Tea Room.” As my hero, Ruth Bader Ginsburg once said, “So often in life, things that you regard as an impediment turn out to be great, good fortune.”
Right on time, we heard the echo of the helicopter as it approached. It looked tiny against the massive rock cliffs, and even after it landed, it was dwarfed by the scenery.




Preston was the name of the nice Mormon lad who came off the helicopter to give us our directions.
“You will each place your luggage on this scale, and then you will get on the scale.” Oh, boy. I was not looking forward to that. “You will be separated into groups of four or five, and when your name is called, you will board the helicopter in that order.”
We quickly bid our farewells to Sean and Natalia, thanking them for everything, making this such a memorable experience.
Donna and I were the last two from our crew to board the helicopter along with the first few members of the other rafting group. And as luck would have it, ‘Lil Sumner and I got to sit up front with the pilot!


Getting lifted out of the canyon so rapidly, and watching our raft grow smaller and smaller as we met the top of the cliffs that had towered over us for the past week felt surreal.

The entire helicopter ride lasted approximately seven minutes to reach Bar 10 Ranch, an oasis run by – Mormons, of course.
So, unlike the ill-fated members of the Powell expedition, ‘Lil Sumner and I made it to a Mormon settlement on the rim, after all!
(Fun side note: Even up until this very last day, I admit I was still clueless. I seem to recall hearing that not only would we get helicoptered out of the canyon, but we would be taken to a bar where we could get a drink to celebrate our week. The only bar was in the name of the ranch – Bar 10 Ranch. There was no place to get a drink because, did I mention? The Mormons. Also, it was barely 8 o’clock in the morning. Like I said, Donna did ALL the research. Thank YOU! I just basically showed up.)


After we exited the helicopter, we made our way to the check-in spot, where Joseph, another friendly, clean-cut, young Mormon lad, gave Donna and me our luggage tags for the plane ride back to Marble Canyon, while the rest of our group were all going to the Las Vegas Airport. We were so relieved that we had chosen to drive rather than fly to and from Vegas. What a shock to the system that would be after spending a week inside one of the Seven Wonders of the World, only to be accosted by the cacophony of slot machines.
The best part about Bar 10 Ranch? The SHOWERS! Oh, my God – a shower never felt so good. I was human again!
All the people going to the Las Vegas airport left almost an hour before we did, so while they were getting called to board the van that would take them to their plane, Donna and I were in the gift shop looking at souvenirs. All of a sudden, Cheryl appeared, breathless.
“There you are!” she exclaimed. “I was hoping I’d find you guys. I wanted to say goodbye.”
“Aw, that’s so sweet!” I said.
“It was so nice to meet you both.”
"Likewise," we agreed.
We shared our contact data, and she took down the information about where she could purchase my novel, High Water.
"Good luck with everything," she said before scurrying off quickly because those Mormons do not mess around. They ran a tight ship and the van was leaving!
Donna and I were exploring the ranch when it was announced that lunch was being served. Apparently, our helicopter ride included lunch for all the river rafters, and since we were the only ones left from our group, we got to partake. Lucky us! But it was only 10 o’clock in the morning. So we made our sandwiches and packed them in a bag, to have on the road while we drove home. This way we wouldn’t have to stop for food. Cool. It was going to be a long drive, and we were anxious to get home.



Shortly after that, it was our turn to head out to the plane that would take us the rest of the way back to my car at the Marble Canyon Lodge, where hopefully, it hadn’t gotten washed away in a flash flood. Riding in the van with us were the pilot (an older gentleman), and the co-pilot who honestly looked like he’d been plucked right out of the cast from Book of Mormon.
On the plane with us was a group heading to Paige, Utah, with names like – Gabriel, Levi, and Jeremiah.
“Paige has a large Mormon population,” Donna told me. Ah.



You’d think that with my fear of heights, a helicopter ride would be unbearable. Today was the second time in my life riding in a helicopter, and for some reason, it isn’t scary at all. However, flying in a small plane is a whole other story. Turbulence on small aircraft can be both nauseating and frightening. Fortunately, I didn’t experience any of the former and only a little of the latter because the scenery was breathtaking!




(Final view of the Canyon)
We arrived at the tiny airstrip in Marble Canyon. After descending the rickety roll-up staircase, we asked the Book of Mormon co-pilot, “We’re supposed to get picked up by someone from Hatch. Do you know who is picking us up or where we're supposed to meet them?”

“I’m not sure,” the nice co-pilot replied. “But there’s a pick-up spot over there,” he said, pointing to what looked like a bus-stop.
“Okay, thanks!” we said, and walked towards it. Not another soul in sight.
“Oh, there’s the Hatch van,” Donna said, indicating a white van parked next to the bus-stop.
As we approached it, a weathered old man seemed to appear out of nowhere.
“Are you from Hatch?” inquired Donna.
“Yeah.”
“We’re supposed to be getting picked up and taken back to the Cliff Dwellers Lodge,” she explained.
"Are you Donna and Patty?"
"That's us!" I said.
“Alright, hop in.”
“What’s your name?” asked Donna.
“I’m Scary Larry.”
Awesome.
Sean and Natalia had told us about Scary Larry and what a character he is. I found it hilarious that he actually introduced himself by that moniker. And he was quite the character! The entire fifteen-minute drive, he talked non-stop.

While Donna was busy reading her text messages from the gal who cared for her cats all week, I got to hear Scary Larry's whole life story.
We thanked Scary Larry for the ride, retrieved my car, and began our long trek home. Flash floods did not wash away my Subaru, but they did cause problems on the rode through Vegas, where highway 15 was closed, and we were rerouted, which added an hour to our already long twelve-hour drive. We would not be getting home until well after midnight. The scenery was beautiful, however, and we chased the setting sun the entire way, witnessing a brilliant desert light show. We reminisced and laughed all the way home, and it helped us process the incredible events we had encountered.
I was heartened to see the number of solar farms that have cropped up across the desert in recent years. According to Sean, if we continue to damage the climate at the current rate, within five years the Colorado River will not have enough water in it to sustain the type of motorized raft we had just had the privilege of experiencing. The fate of this magnificent marvel rests in our hands.
“Oh, don’t you worry, Major Powell. . . Your story will outlast even those of your own crew. . . Because men will name places after you! A forest, perhaps! Or a man-made lake!
. . . Were they alive? they’ll ask me. They were alive, I’ll say. You were alive. This is your story.”
~ Mr. Asa
(Men On Boats by Jaclyn Backhaus)

The Men On Boats cast, understudy, director, stage manager, and crew
My next escapade: ITALY!
Fun! Fun! read. I started reading about halfway through your posts and waited with anticipation for the next quick episode. Thank you Patty! I loved living this adventure vicariously through your eyes, humor & wit.