"You cannot see the Grand Canyon in one view, as if it were a changeless
spectacle from which a curtain might be lifted, but to see it you have to toil
from month to month through its labyrinths."
spectacle from which a curtain might be lifted, but to see it you have to toil
from month to month through its labyrinths."
- John Wesley Powell
trusive way). I'm all for 'river time' but being glacially slow in the face of headwinds won't get us to Diamond Creek. Everyone was up and off the beach close to two hours earlier than the day before. This increase in speed and efficiency did did not occur without several spectacular wipe-outs on the muddy slope at the rivers' edge. Rob in particular managed to go down hard and cake his jacket and left butt cheek. He got a 9.6 on the landing from the Russian Judge.North Canyon Camp
The 'brown' water of the river took on another degree of opacity this morning. I called it chocolate milk yesterday. Something clearly flashed overnight and the water now frothed like a chunky chocolate milkshake. Even the white water was no longer white.
A last grab of gear off the beach led to the sighting of the trips first scorpion. Scared the bejesus out of me and probably out of it too. I regained my composure quickly enough to grab a camera to photograph the event. Remember to shake out your boots boys and girls.
Morning Friend
The Roaring Twenties today. One of the fastest continuous whitewater stretches we'll see all trip. Good for making up miles and great for the entertainment of the kayakers. Many of the rapids in the Twenties are named by mile marker. Rapid 24.5 was a dogleg to the left. I found the hole in the center and Jim followed right behind me. Amazing. The water collapsed over my head and the lights went out. Great rapids with giant haystacks. There aren't any pictures because I needed both hands to hold on to the paddle.It seems undignified to call the views as we float through the canyon 'the scenery'. It is spectacular. I don't have any words to describe it's beauty and it's scale. More than that, scenery sounds so passive. The canyon is enveloping.
Downstream Towards Stanton's Cave
We lost Hoppy to a second swim mid-morning and then Pam dumped out of the ducky and required a 4-man assist to regain her seat. It's harder than it looks to climb back into that thing. Jim in this process managed to tweak his formerly broken arm. Nothing that a hefty dose of 'vitamin I' can't fix.
Rob and Graham also continued their 'King of the Surf' competition and there were some truly epic rides on the shoulders of fast, chocolate waves. I have no idea who's winning but it's fun to watch. I particularly enjoy the wave dismounts which are frequently followed by end-over-end unintendos. Worth the price of admission. Even I managed to catch a surf or two.
Who is Surf King?
We had to cruise by Shinumo Wash and Silver Grotto. It was definitely one of the places on my list but not a good option with recent wet weather and slow downstream progress. Oh well, I guess that means I'll have to come back.W
e stopped at South Canyon beach just above Stanton's Cave for a quick hike up to some Anasazi ruins and petroglyphs.
Ancient Man and Water
Mary Lamb and Jane at South Canyon
Josh told us a bit about Hopi legends and their belief that we currently live in the 4'th world. The legend included wisdom of the Spider Grandmother and idea that the Hopi people were shown the way from one world to the next by a hummingbird. I'm sure I'm butchering the details.
After seeing the ruins, part of our intrepid group continued to hike briefly up the hill to a small cave which one could wriggle through about ten feet to a steep opening out the other side. I was content to look. Rob, Graham and Jim immediately began discussing whether the climb down was a possibility. Not today. Places to go. Things to see. Lunch to eat.
We headed to back to the beach for lunch before gathering the group once more for a short walk up to Stanton's Cave. Really a very cool place. As you may be able to surmise
Immediately downriver we pass Vasey's Paradise. It's a spring the flows out of the canyon walls and creates a bed of verdant green vegetation that stands in stark contrast to the desert around it. We took the opportunity to collect buckets of clear water while trying to avoid the abundant poison ivy. Not long after, we rounded the bend above Redwall Cavern. Majestic and silent. The enormous carved out amphitheater was full of the softest sand you can imagine. Great for an impromptu game of barefoot catch.
Redwall Cavern
From Redwall Cavern we continued on to mile 34.8 , Nautiloid Canyon. Just above camp there was a fabulous eddy line with whirlpools like 'Brain Douche' rapid on the Ottawa. Perhaps next trip I'll have the energy to park myself for an hour and swirl myself silly. But today I was beat and more onshore adventures awaited. Nautiloid Canyon. What is a Nautiloid you might ask. Well, I once read a Steven King novel that had creatures called "lobstrocities". Nautiloid fossils look a lot like I imagine a lobstrocity would. A weird combination of giant lobster-plankton creatures. Nautiloids. Yummy. The whole canyon above camp is full of these fossils which could best be seen when the rock was wet. The climb up the cliff to get to the fossils was nearly vertical and mildly hair-raising . A strange combination of polished smooth and exquisitely sharp rock that resulted in some mild bloodshed from Jim's hands on the descent.
It was a full day that ended with an incredible dinner of blackened salmon, veggies and peach cobbler and a moonrise so bright you could barely see the stars. I got a post-dinner massage from Pam (the woman has skills!) with a massage oil that made me smell almost clean. Then we were regaled with stories of the Rolling Saloon and poems pining for the destruction of the Damn Dam. Hell yeah. HAYDUKE LIVES! We lingered on the beach well past dark as the sounds of the river mingled with Mike playing the guitar. It doesn't get much better. Then Jim joined in on the flute and it was.
It was a full day that ended with an incredible dinner of blackened salmon, veggies and peach cobbler and a moonrise so bright you could barely see the stars. I got a post-dinner massage from Pam (the woman has skills!) with a massage oil that made me smell almost clean. Then we were regaled with stories of the Rolling Saloon and poems pining for the destruction of the Damn Dam. Hell yeah. HAYDUKE LIVES! We lingered on the beach well past dark as the sounds of the river mingled with Mike playing the guitar. It doesn't get much better. Then Jim joined in on the flute and it was.
Night and day the river flows. If time is the mind of space, the Colorado is the soul of the desert.
Brave boatmen come, they go, they die, the voyage flows on forever. We are all canyoneers. We
are all passengers on this little living mossy ship, this delicate dory sailing round the sun that
humans call the earth.
Joy, shipmates, joy.
© Edward Abbey
Other Notes:
- Jane took a break from the paddle boat today and climbed aboard an oar raft with Josh. She announced to him that she was going to take a nap so he couldn't talk. He agreed. They proceeded to have an amazing conversation the details of which I don't know, but by report, it meant a lot to them both.
- In the giant eddy at South Canyon Rob found a small, highly polished piece of driftwood. Like a smooth piece of sea glass, all the details of the wood grain were exposed. I thought it was beautiful. Rob insisted it reminded him of a colon. I suppose he's right in that it was smooth and tubular - but that's certainly not the first thing that came to my mind.
Link to Photo Gallery Day 3
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