When you reflect on your life, do you pull out your favorite events, or do you let the pieces come together and support each other in a way that builds something even more powerful than a single individual experience? Just before I floated down the Grand Canyon, my friend asked me what I was most looking forward to. He wanted to know if it was the wildlife, crazy intense rapids, or the ancient artifacts; maybe it was the geology?
My answer will always be the same: whether it is one adventure or my entire life story, the pieces create an experience that, when woven together, designs something magical that can’t be broken apart.
I could have written about this river trip in a million ways, but I decided to share random little sections. Like a kaleidoscope, a Grand Canyon River Trip is perfect for the reflection that occurs between all the brightly colored pieces.
My Story
I was dripping wet from rinsing off in the clear water. A little chilled, I headed back towards the Colorado River, winding through a side canyon that held Deer Creek and patches of sunlight. I could still hear the group of women’s excitement for the silt-free water. We had removed our clothing to rinse off in the cold dark pool, some had even climbed up behind a rock to jump into a waterfall.
One image vividly sticks in my mind: Marta leaning her back against the almost warm Zoroaster Granite. She was 79 years old, standing in the sunlight, wearing only a big smile. I don’t know if I will ever forget how radiant and beautiful she was in that moment.
I remember thinking what a gift she is to our world. Her ability to live so openly and honestly as she moves through the world. She is a great example for those of us who get lost in the fears of aging and the imagined imperfections of our bodies and even lives. She seemed fearless, but surely, she is human like the rest of us and has had some trepidations in life.
On this October trip with roughly 30 people ranging in age from 28 to 79, I was reminded of the strength and resilience in our human bodies, and the seduction of being around people who say, “ yes” to life’s adventures.
Marta has lived a great life of river trips and other adventures. She was one of the organizers of this Grand Canyon River Trip. I can’t do justice to the experience because everyone feels, sees, and hears a different story as they float down the river. Whether it’s your first trip or your hundredth trip, there will always be unique and memorable moments that flow together and fit perfectly into your life.
My role as a helper allowed me to pass freely down the river. There were two other assistants on this particular trip. We supported the guides with preparing food, purifying water, and loading and unloading the boats. Basically, we helped keep every campsite clean with no traces of food, trash, or human waste.
Our trip covered roughly 226 miles in 16 days, from Lee’s Ferry to Diamond Creek take-out. The time between sunrise and sunset was free of traffic noise, chirping phones, barking dogs, and other common life sounds. Instead, we had churning water, occasional wind, and sometimes blowing sand.
Other times, we had complete silence.
Almost every day, ravens would watch us from a perch, hoping we would leave behind a piece of food or something shiny. The daily Geology always told a story of creation and evolution. This was explained by the buildup of rock formations, visible collapses, and the promise of continual change. Blue herons shared the energy of patience and grace. Big horn sheep grazed, napped, or frolicked, seemingly unfazed by the boats floating by. The mule deer were more cautious of our human behavior.
The canyon’s colors ranged from white to pink, black, grey, red, yellow, and brown. The river banks offered all the colors of the walls, from crumbling rocks to a mix of green plants, creating a contrast between water and rock.
The river shared her earthy smells, a mixture of plants, water, and decay. If you sat in the front of the boat, silty cold water was strong on your face, tangling your hair and running up your nose, somehow finding its way into the openings between your skin, rain gear, and splash jacket. If you were in the back of the boat, you held on, hoping not to be ejected into the cold water.
Every day, the guides shared educational information sprinkled with wild and funny river trip practices from the past. We learned of lives lost in a rapid, or plane crashing down from the sky. You can still find pieces of the plane mixed in with the desert landscape. We heard stories of miners and their families who made the Grand Canyon their home.
My favorite stories include the history of the native people. Sometimes we were lucky enough to see granaries and other artifacts up close. I love imagining canyon life years ago, before planes, boats, and dams. Where stories were maybe shared orally through generations, and at other times etched into cliff walls to be remembered.
There were six river guides. Our trip leader, Brooks, was totally on top of every detail and organized, but still fun and spontaneous. They had the perfect temperament for rowing the aluminum dory.
We also had a paddle boat captained by Petra, who has an amazing singing voice (seriously). She plays multiple instruments and can guide a group of new boatwomen through a day of big rapids.
There was a bar boat ( mostly non alcoholic beverages) that offered a loungy feeling, rowed by Gavin. On his boat, he had created a couch situation with Poco Pads, and there was always space for the guests to reminisce about past adventures.
Marley rowed a boat where people shared unexpected stories that were often raw and intimate. She’s highly capable both in and out of the water, laughs at herself, and never sweats the small stuff.
Tessa shared lovely and gracious energy as she moved through the water, and over land. She organized the meals and always made people feel welcome regardless of the situation.
Jack loves sharing about the geology and history of the canyon. He would be a serious contender on Survivor because of his love of detail, yet he still maintains a little wild, gregarious, and adventurous nature.
Memorable Experiences
When floating the Grand Canyon, around river mile 157, the turquoise water of the Havasu Creek joins the brownish Colorado River, creating a mesmerizing flow as the two colors mix. Eventually, the blue is swallowed up by the rushing brown water, and the point of contact is easy to get lost in. At this junction, you can hike up the creek and enjoy the fresh water. Eventually, the creek will lead you to Havasupai Falls, where you need a permit to be on the Havasupai Indian Reservation.
The Havasupai Falls is considered sacred, rejuvenating, and a way to connect with nature and ancestral spirits. On the afternoon that we hiked up the creek, it was beautiful for sure, but I couldn’t help imagining what it would feel like to be there alone.
I did find a boulder, away from everyone, where I could feel and just breathe, without the distractions of conversation. I had a notebook, where I wrote everything floating through my mind. It happened to be the New Moon, one of my favorite times to reflect on the trajectory of my life.
Running the rapids in the Grand Canyon is a big part of the trip. As the guides like to remind us, some rapids have more serious consequences than others. There are Hermit, Crystal, Hance, House Rock, and Deubendorff Rapid, just to name a few.
One of the most well-known raids is Lava Falls. Leading up to these rapids, you begin to see black volcanic rock dated roughly 75,000 to 700,000 years old. The Basalt rock has crazy patterns and shapes that seem frozen in time, still sharing the energy of a long-ago volcanic blast.
It is customary to scout some of these rapids before running them. On our trip, the guides put on flashy, sparkly clothes just before Lava Falls Rapids. All the women on the paddle boat took their shirts off, but were basically covered up by the life jackets. Make-up and big false eyelashes were also put on to celebrate the adventure. All of this created huge anticipation of running Lava Rapids; maybe it was an offering to the spirits of the water, asking for a safe run.
Our guides did an amazing job navigating the rapids. We had a few swimmers who were easily pulled to safety, but the energy was off the charts high. There is a campsite on the river right, shortly after the rapids. Tequila was pulled out and passed around when everyone was on shore.
We camped there that night, and the chaotic energy that started earlier in the day still ran through our group. Around 4:00 the next morning, we had an electrical storm with rain, strong gusts of wind, lightning, and thunder. It seemed to envelop our camp for several hours.
The camp kitchen had been blown down, and the general flow of camp was moving at a different pace that morning. I remember feeling so much better, like the storm had blown away all the intense, choppy energy from the day before.
One woman had somehow slept through the entire storm. Her shelter was a Poco Pad and a blue plastic tarp, tucked tightly around her sleeping bag; her head was sheltered deep in her sleeping kit. She was just sitting up as I walked by. One false eyelash was courageously hanging onto a corner of an eye. The other side of her face had bright makeup from the day before, running down her cheek.
I remember this because the energy was so intense the day before. The storm cleared out, leaving the remnants of a celebration where everything was let go. That morning, we picked up the pieces, washed our faces, and met a new day.
Another memory is appreciated for the simplicity and beauty of a moment. All the boats pulled into the Red Wall Cavern. At mile 33, there is a huge overhang of red limestone. There is a high ceiling and a sandy floor, large enough for a big group of people to move about freely.. Petra surprised us when she perched herself up high on a ledge and played her saxophone. The musical notes resonated through the rock and sand and touched my heart.
The day after our return, I went for a long hike by myself and reflected on my journey down the Grand Canyon. Even with the challenge of being an introvert, surrounded by people, I wouldn’t change a thing. I didn’t connect with every person there, but I was inspired by the collective sense of adventure and full-on love of life that was shared, sometimes chaotic and other times, in creative and thoughtful ways.
In closing, if you are seeking an adventure that is almost impossible to wrangle into manageable thoughts, float the Grand Canyon. Your experience will certainly be different from mine, but it will be powerful, exciting, and thought-provoking for sure.
Whether it’s a river trip or something else, may your journey take you down a path that holds all the parts of a great story.
By Polly Wirum
