Day 5 - Lower Saddle Camp to LCR

It is so nice to wake up without an alarm clock. There is something wonderful and decadent and right about it. This is true even if you wake up at 5AM because the moon is too bright. That's how I woke up this morning. Orion was in the sky above and small bats flitted around like confetti. Quite a spectacle. I walked cross camp to the groover without a headlamp and scared a large creature off the bank of the river. The ripples left by his startled departure reflected in the moonlight.

Breakfast was a quick but upscale event with Lox and bagels which we consumed like vultures before zipping out for a morning hike. The whole group ambled into Saddle Canyon. A hike that starts dry and ends in a wet grotto about 20 feet wide. The cliff walls along the way were blanketed with vibrant, emerald green ferns and the banks dotted with tiny red flowers.

Don Takes a Break in Saddle

With the help of a few well-placed hand and footholds, everyone scrambled to the top. On her way, Jane waded through waist deep water with her digital camera securely stowed in the pocket of her shorts. The upside of this gadget's watery demise is that she has resigned herself to 'learn the internet' so she can share in everyone's photos. At the grotto many in the group took the opportunity to rinse off in the clear water - even without out soap it was a momentary respite from the sand and mud film that coats us all from head to toe.

Rinsing Off In Saddle Canyon

Back on the river Eileen tried out the IK and the hardboaters had a day full of rolling wave trains and surfs. At Nankoweap, I actually managed to catch a wave that most everyone else missed. I was so flabbergasted by my secure position on the wave I surfed myself right off of it. Graham also managed attain the wave but had his surf cut short by the seemingly spontaneous mid-shaft breakage of his paddle. He was surprised (to say the least) and spent a moment with his arms over his head, a piece of paddle flapping in each hand. He paddled the rest of the rapid (the longest on the river) OC1 style with half a paddle. I suggested he ought to run the rest of the river that way. An appropriate handicap.

By our lunch stop ,we had passed or gotten passed by three separate groups (some commercial and some private). Despite everyone's wish for the 'best camp' all seem happy to discuss who was going where . Somehow, it all seems to work smoothly despite concerns of making miles in the face of headwind. The Grand Canyon has enough room and magic for everyone.

After lunch, half the gang trudged up the sunny exposed slope to the Nankoweap Graneries. Saying the view was spectacular sounds silly in the Grand Canyon but the view was spectacular. Really. Spectacular. Still, any hike in the mid-day sun is quickly draining and by the time I got back to the beach I was pretty beat and overheated.

Before heading downstream, Rob's spare paddle was put to the task of a replacement for Graham after being blessed by Josh and a stick of burning sage. Looking for every advantage in the ongoing 'King of Surf' competition, Rob asked for a surf blessing as well. Armed with his blessing, Rob surfed like an absolute fiend on Kwagant rapid. Lawn chair style. Camped out. Parked. Jim joined him on the wave. Then Graham. And still Rob was there. There must be a 100 pictures in sequence. Watching Rob it seemed you couldn't possibly miss getting on this wave. I missed. Pam started down the rapid and hit an enormous breaking wave. Crashing through the far side she let out a victory whoop and lifted her paddle over her head in a triumphant wave. This action was followed quickly thereafter by a flip followed by nearly 200 yards of roll attempts. Some were unsuccessful, one was so strong she rolled clear over to the other side. Finally a T-rescue by Jim returned her to an upright position. Premature jubilation = spanking by the River Gods. Lesson learned.



Just below Rob's all-day-glassy-wave I caught a small wave and had my longest and best surf of the trip thus far. Woohoo. An absolute scream. Next we stopped at God's Own Ender Hole (aptly named). Emboldened by my small measure of playing success, I dropped into a small pourover hole downstream and got a flat-spin and an impressive unintendo before being windowshaded and spit out with a jet of canyon water up the nose and a sore left shoulder.

From a geologic perspective we have now traveled through all the layers of Sedimentary Rock in the Canyon including Tapeats Sandstone (which provides fabulous sitting ledges), Muav Limestone, Bright Angel Shale which is the most surreal shades of purples, greens and white and the soaring walls of Redwall Limestone above.

Camp tonight was just above the confluence of the LCR. The official border of Marble Canyon and the Grand. Tomorrow we will officially be 'in it'. The evening passed with a game of full contact hackeysac (we kicked more sand than sac) and a delicious Jambalaya. We heard stories of extinct and endangered fish like the humped-back chubb. Wiped out by the clear, cold, sterile waters of the dam and the addition of non-native species like trout. Apparently as part of a conservation effort, 'fish people' electrocute the fish to stun them, scoop the non-native trout out to make fertilizer and throw the endangered local fish back after tagging. Mass fish stunning. I'd like to see it.

Mike Taking Pictures at LCR Camp

As it turns out, in addition a favored location for fish preservation efforts, our camp is also the near the site of a famous mid-air plane crash that occurred in the Canyon years ago. The collision is a least partially responsible for changes in FAA flight rules which seek to minimize the chances of such collisions. It was eerie to find the occasional piece of metal scattered among the rock and wonder whether it was a piece of one of those planes. Jim spend time scanning the walls of the cliff above looking for signs of impact. I tried my best not to think of it at all. It freaks me out.

Tonight I'm feeling a littly bit grimy but good notwithstanding the twinges in my left shoulder from today's hole misadventure. A few other folks aren't fairing as well. The bane of many river trips, cracked dry skin and foot problems has reared it's ugly head and makeshift remedies of duct taped toes and heels began to appear. In addition, Larry informed me in confidence of a health issue he was suffering with. At the time he told me, nobody else knew (that would change over the course of the trip). Suffice it so say he was uncomfortable and struggling to maintain his good humor. He didn't feel any better after trying to get back to his raft and going down hard on the slick mud of the river bank. I offered him what help I could which was little more than empathy.

The plan for tomorrow (from Larry the king of non-committal, you'll get info on a need-to-know basis) includes a lot of river miles. I'm tired just thinking about it.

Go to Day 6 - LCR to 75 Mile Canyon