Mr. Write's Page

This is part 2 of the journal I kept on my first trip to Grand Canyon in May 1994. Read part 1 first, or you‘ll be sorry.

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Monday 5/30/94, 530pm, first night on the river:

We’re camped on an absolutely beautiful beach. Won’t need tents tonight, as the weather is… perfecto. The day was hot, but all went well, and this trip is starting out to be… perfecto.

With one big exception: my camera, which I spent $100 to overhaul and clean for this trip, has died. Expired. Gone kaput. Why Me? Why now, on the trip of a lifetime?

Chris from Atlanta and his friend Tom from Cleveland said they will make dupes of their photos for me. I gave them my film and will get addresses later.

Last night, we met as a group for orientation. Andrew, the trip leader, gave us a 40-minute talk on what to expect, what to do. The guides are an interesting lot. I had them pictured about right: friendly pirates.

Most of the passengers are in their 30s, some a bit older. Half are men, half are women. They’re the outdoorsy type, of course. The names are a blur. I need to work on that.

The roommate they gave me last night at Marble Canyon was Anthony from Connecticut. He wore a giant wrist chronometer that told us the altitude and got us up at 530am. We all ate breakfast, packed, loaded our gear into the vans, and were down at Lees Ferry by 8am.

Our party consists of four oar-powered rafts and one paddleboat. Motors, I take it, are for sissies.

Each oar boat holds four passengers, two in front, two in back. A guide sits in the middle and does the rowing. The paddle raft holds six paddlers. A guide is perched in the back, acting as the rudder.

My guide today was Hilde. Also on board: a young couple from Reno and a woman from Durango, all veteran river-runners. Renee, the girl from Reno, is a dead ringer for Bo Derek. Clearly, she will be Most Popular Passenger in the days to come.

We ran four or five sizeable (in my estimation) rapids and numerous small ones. The deal is, you go through a rapid, then relax and float to the next rapid. Pandemonium, peace and quiet, pandemonium. I never felt at risk or anything. It was a blast – exhilarating fun.

Tuesday 5/31/94, 6pm, second night on the river:

Up at 430am to thunder and lightning. We dragged our sleeping pads under some rock overhangs – had no tents set up – but never got rain. French toast and sausage for breakfast, then off to twice as many rapids as yesterday. Big boomers, only 10 to 20 minutes apart. Got wet, wet, wet.

I was in Eric’s boat today. He is a firefighter from Sacramento. Also on board: Chris (sells auto parts) and Sue (in the foreign service, just transferred to Ecuador). We’re camped at the mouth of Buck’s Farm Canyon on a wide beach.

The camp kitchen.

The toilet facilities are (duh) primitive – a toilet seat atop an ammo can, placed out of sight in the bushes.

It’s called the Groover. Why? Before they added the toilet seat, the ammo can left grooves in your butt.

The Groover is for Number Two only; we have orders to pee in the river, or at least below the high water line on shore.

Modesty was an early casualty out here. Why bother? We’re all in the “same boat.” The male guides delight in standing on the edge of the raft, back turned to the passengers, and peeing freely thus.

Sleeping gear is a ground tarp, a thick yellow pad (which is your seat on the raft during the day), and a sleeping bag and liner. It was hot last night, so I skipped the sleeping bag. Then at 3am, I pulled it over me like a blanket.

Today wasn’t as hot as yesterday — although being drenched regularly by 45-degree river water might account for that.

Eric said the guides use a little ditty to remember the sequence of the rock layers in the canyon (Kaibab, Toroweap, Coconino, etc.) – “Know The Canyon’s History. Study…” I forget the rest of it.

Wednesday 6/1/94, after supper, third night on the river:

I rode with Andrew today. For the rock layers thing, he says to remember, “Kissing takes concentration; however, sex requires more breathing and timing.”

Great day today. Perfect weather. Did a hike to the top of Eminence Break. As we topped out, Andrew was waiting to take our pulse rates. Renee’s was 70. Mine was 150. In all fairness, it was back to normal 30 seconds later. Must be the altitude. Someone took a group photo on top.

Later, we hiked up to the Anasazi granaries at Nankoweap. We’re now camped on the beach at Nankoweap, and it’s a superb spot. I bathed in the river earlier, looking across at a 3500-foot redwall cliff. From the trail to the granaries, you see the cliff and also a beautiful view up-river. Several rapids were in sight, but mostly small.

Anthony got my mailing address so he can send me a set of his photos. Tom’s camera got wet today, but that still leaves 2 who are taking pix for me. I seem to be better off without a camera.

Today is Hilde’s birthday. We sang and ate cheesecake. As we pulled up to this beach, an elk with the biggest antlers I’ve ever seen was getting a drink. Right now, a young deer is on the beach about 50 yards away. This morning, we saw a coyote on the north bank. Played a game of horseshoes after supper. My team won.

Thursday 6/2/94 after supper, last night on the river:

We just got the final pep talk about tomorrow. Should be on the trail up to South Rim by 11a.m. or so. Today we ran the largest rapids yet (the biggest are after I’m gone), and we stopped at the Little Colorado River for most of the morning.

At the LC, we swam, we tubed, we tubed holding onto each other in a long chain, etc. The tubing is done by wearing one’s PFD upside down – one’s legs go in the arm holes so the padding protects one’s behind.

Frolicking in the Little C.

I rode in Andy’s boat and rowed for 20 minutes. I was truly exhausted. I got us through a class 3 rapid, which I guess isn’t bad.

Andy is videotaping the entire trip. He’ll make the raw footage available for $35. On his back is a tattoo of a dragon surrounded by Chinese lettering. He said he could tell me what it means, but then he would have to kill me.

Chris invited me to his annual July Xmas party in Atlanta. Jeff, Tom, and Steve will be there. (Note to self: get a t-shirt for Chris at South Rim – XL with canyon map. If no XL, forget it. Also a L or XL w/canyon map for Sue. Prefers aqua, blue is okay.)

Saturday morning 6/4/94, on the bus to Flagstaff:

Jeez Louise, what a day Friday was! Biggest rapids of all in the morning. On our trip, nine people were full-trippers, and the other nine (me among them) hiked out the Bright Angel Trail back to the South Rim.

So we made sandwiches and said our goodbyes at the boat beach and at about 11am, headed uphill. And I do mean UP.

The midpoint on the 10-mile trail is Indian Garden. Had a chance to talk to all of the group there – Anthony, the four from Boston, the three girls (Sue, Brenda, Rebecca), and Rocky makes 9. Drank two quarts of water on the lower leg, another quart at Indian Garden, and another two on the remaining upper stretch.

When I set out on the upper leg of the trail, the temp was 105 and the sun was brutal. As I passed the ranger station, The Man stepped onto the porch and flagged me down.

He pointed to the sun, then to the advancing shade. He said if I would sit and rest for 20 minutes, the shade would catch up, and I wouldn’t be walking in the broiling sun. So I sat. Thanks, officer.

It was the toughest hike I ever did, or close to it. A vertical mile, no level ground, just a steady, relentless grade. But eventually, I topped out, and 5 minutes later felt fine.

Met Anthony for supper at the Bright Angel restaurant, then crashed.

Up at 530AM and on the bus back to Flag. Eric and Tony gave me the names of some boatmen bars and eateries in Flagstaff. Also told me about a good jewelry store called Puchteca.

Random thoughts…

Ravens are everywhere in the canyon. Once when we were lunching on shore, we noticed two of them searching the boat for booty.

Never saw a bighorn, in spite of looking constantly.

It’s illegal to remove anything from the canyon, but I collected a few pebbles – one each from Navajo Bridge, Lees Ferry, confluence with the Little Colorado, Nankoweap Mesa, foot of the Silver Bridge, and both ends of the Bright Angel Trail. I am such a slug.

The last day, I rode in Andrew’s boat with Brenda, Becky, & Shirley. Andrew took us head first into the hole at Grapevine on purpose. We were 2/3 full of water.

That night, the guides broke out t-shirts for everybody, and we passed around a bottle of peppermint schnapps. The Three Musketeers (Tom, Jeff, Chris) had a supply of bourbon and got knee-walking drunk.

Hours later, Tom got lost in the dark. The girls found him in the brambles near the river and led him back to camp. That night, the sound of Tom’s heaving and retching echoed through the canyon. Jeff snored most of the night.

When I checked into the Bright Angel Lodge I ran into Anthony. I went and got a hot bath, then met him in the bar for a beer, then supper in the restaurant.

This morning, I had time to assess my condition, and I have bruises everywhere, some of them alarming.

River rats.