Why on earth does a Dane go on a rafting trip in USA where they find a floating body, gets lost in the mountains in a rainstorm, flips a raft in the wildest rapid, has to stitch up an injured person,
walk right by rattlesnakes, floats downstream with poisonous scorpions aboard and sleeps with
tarantulas around them?
Learn why when you read this story about 22 days on the Colorado River through Grand Canyon.
A trip not many Danes ever get a chance to experience.
The Danish version of this article was featured in the March issue of M! magazine along with photos not shown here. Better yet, one of our members is a professional videographer and he produced a great tape of our trip. You can buy the video and experience Grand Canyon Rafting yourself.
photos by Martin Wagner & Doug England
by Martin Wagner
The dream started when I flew over The Grand Canyon 2 ½ years ago. Some day I would be rafting all the way through the Canyon. But being a low-lander Dane I had absolutely no idea how to make the dream come through.
2 years later the solution came to me - disguised as an e-mail. "If you want to spend 18 days rafting the Grand Canyon, starting September 22, I would have to have a confirmation from you in the next couple of days.". Those were the word that came across the Atlantic from my friend Butch who is a part time river guide in Washington (Not D.C. - the honest one). Guess what I answered..?
From here it took several months of planning before we all met for the first time. I was the only Dane on the trip, that included 7 experienced river people from Washington and a crazy kayaker from Colorado.
The 'put in' is at Lees Ferry in Arizona, where the desert sun burned and the temperature in the non-existing shade was about 30 C. But before we got into the rafts, our Grand Canyon National Park River Ranger had to check all our equipment. That took app. 45 minutes, which says something about how much gear is required. Among other things is the equipment to carry out all solid human waste, since it not is allowed to take a dump in the river.
The armada consisted of 3 big rafts, 2 kayaks and 1 cataraft - all more than packed. The biggest being an 18' Maravia weighing app. 2000 lbs fully loaded!
After the check-out followed a lecture about River Behavior. We were told that this season so far had taken 17 human lives. The seriousness hit me like a club when I saw pics of boat wrecks and Ed talked about hypothermia as the most frequent cause of death in The Canyon. After spending less that 10 minutes in the freezing cold (5-7 C) water you get so cold that you can't swim or move. Then you inhale The Chocolate Brow Killer and it's Game Over.
After the many preparations we were finally ready. I took a deep breath, pushed the boat out in the current and jumped aboard with the greatest gut feeling I've ever had. My stomach was full of bubbles. Part of them from excitement and the rest from true happiness. Imagine my dream had come true. The adventure was about to begin.
8 miles down the stream comes Badger Creek. A class 8 rapid which is the wildest white water that day. Not the wildest I've ever seen but I do become a little tense and hold on to my rein. (Grand Canyon rapids are classified 1 - 10 depending on the level of difficulty. 10 is the wildest.)
Butch tells me how to read the water and he puts the boat in position. I can feel how the adrenalin starts pumping. The characteristic taste of iron-pipe hits my mouth. Nice and easy we slide towards the roaring, frothing water. And then it happens. The bow dives. My grip on the rein is so firm that my knuckles turn white. The first wave hits us. Wham! It's like a spray of ice. Splash! I've just wiped my eyes then comes the next and then the third and then it's all over. Proud as a (?). I've survived my first Colorado River Rapid! My heart is pounding like a blacksmith from the Wild West. And that's right where we are!
BANG!!! Here come whitewater initiation. After a soft start comes "The roaring 20's" 7 rapids between class 6-8. Technically difficult rapids with big hungry holes.
I'm still in my getting-to-know-the-boat phase so I'm still not the oarsman. Because it takes not only strength and skills to man the oars. It takes an ability to sense the boat as if it was a part of your body.
For some reason it's always Butch and I, who takes big rapids first. It just the 2nd day on the river and we already have the reputation for taking the most challenging route.
The nature here is so beautiful that words can hardly describe it. That's why my most frequently
used word on this trip is WOW! No matter where I look it's just amazing. Especially for a
low-lander-Dane like me.
We stop at South Canyon to see the Anasazi tribes ruins. Doug and I crawl into one of the caves and when we come to the end we look straight down a side canyon. I lean out but the sensation is way intense. If I slip it's a 300' free fall!
We gently move on. Not much whitewater here so I'm at he oars. Butch grins and throw me the map and says. "Well isn't it about time for your first rapid" My stomach crumples, the pulse beats faster and once again I feel the metallic taste of adrenalin. "Well, yes - I guess so" is my brilliant remark. I stand up and try to read the water. I decide to run the rapid on the left side and asks Butch if he agrees. "It's your call!" he grins back at me. I take a deep breath and straighten out the boat. Here we go! My first Grand Canyon rapid.
I'm about as concentrated as a surgeon in the middle of an operation. We hit the first wave. The boat turns. I try to straighten it out, but the next wave hits us hard and washes over Butch. I can hear him through the infernal roaring "You did that on purpose" I wish he was right! But the truth is I lost control for a second. All of a sudden it's over and we're heading for the Eddy. I have to work hard with the oars to get us into the current again. I stand up and yell like a mad cow. I can now call myself OARS (Officially A River Scum).
That evening there's fresh caught trout on the menu. But that's not all for me. I have to go through the Official River Initiation. According to tradition I have to take a manly sized sip of all the others booze. That includes Pirate rum, several kinds of whiskey and tequila. One of these being the infamous Cinnamon Tequila. By some strange reason I was able to walk on my own feet back to the tent. I just had to go down to the river and pee. While I'm unloading I suddenly remember what Ed said at our lecture: "Remember, we find a lot of drowned guys with their dick hanging out". I instantly feel very sober. If I slip now it's all over. But that's the way the river is: One fuck up at the wrong time and you're gone.
We've arrived at Nankoweep, where the Anasazi Indians 1000 years ago build granaries in the cliff wall 600' above the river. We climb the small path to see the caves and enjoy the walk. Doug walks right by a nice yellow bush, but Charles stops a few feet before the bush and yells "RATTLESNAKE!" We all stop immediately. I've never seen a buzzworm before so my curiosity wins over my good sense and I jump forward with my camera ready to shoot. "It's a fucking rattlesnake" I yell, and take a picture of it. Nice pic to prove how close I was to a live one.
The next day starts with Hance Rapid. A nice little class 10 rapid. With usual insanity Butch and I goes first. We decide to go left. Wrong decision! Boom. Right through a 6' standing wave and a big fxxxing hole. Luckily the cataraft is our lifesaver and we don't get pulled down or flip. The raft rides the next standing wave and we loose speed so we are surfing the wave. A totally outrageous experience. We are standing still in the wildest white water, while the water flows beneath us at 20 - 30 knots!
Next is Horn Creek, which is just after the big rock in the middle of the river, making a pour over that forms a horn. We scout the rapid and all agrees that the left side is the right side. So of course we wanna go left. But one of oars is not willing to cooperate so we never get there.
Kawoof, and we were about to hit a 10 feet high chocolate ice-cream with whipped cream standing in front of us. I just have time to send all my creditors in Denmark a nice thought before we hit it. Butch is shouting "This Is Not Where We Wanna Be!!!". Hey - I realized that already, thank you.
We go right through the wave. But the raft is turned so we are now sideways. I can't hear Butch anymore so I turn my head and realize he's gone. Oooops! I turn my head back and see the next major wave right beside us. The raft is thrown in the air and I high-side the best I can. In that second Butch is washed back in the boat. Funny - it was like the river tasted him, but didn't like it and spitted him out again. I've never seen anything like that!
Another nickname for me is now added to the list: Crash Test Dummy. In the evening we celebrate being alive with a shower. A real one with soap (biodegradable) and all that. True luxury!
It's time for a lay over day. We decide to hike into Monument Creek. Yet another superb nature experience with lots of WOW's. We follow the stream and after 5 miles to the spring. There - in the middle of the desert - the freshest spring water emerges from the cliff. We can't control our urges and let the spring spray its crystal clear water all over our heated bodies. It fills our thirsty mouths and refreshes us like nothing we've ever tasted before...
We are camped right next to Granite Rapid - a 600 foot long class 9+. So the day starts with a great adrenalin-buzz. As usual Butch & I run first. We keep up the appearance, so app. 1/3 through the rapid Butch decides to leave the raft. This time an oar jumps in with him. But unlike the oar Butch quite quickly comes back into the boat. I preform my usual don't-flip-now stunt. Apparently we haven't used all our luck, because by the time we are eddying out the oar is popping up and down in the eddy line like it's laughing at us.
A good mile down the river is the next challenge. Hermit. With the biggest standing waves I've ever seen. 12' standing waves are quite an impressive sight. What's even more impressive is that we're going through them!
We got passed by the other group "The Bad Luck Club" at Granite, so we don't think we're gonna
see them at Hermit. But when we're in the middle of Hermit we spot the 18' orange raft upside
down and people sitting all over the cliff side. Something is definitely wrong, Fortunately we took
the right run so we can pull in. I tie the boat and walk up to a girl sitting with a white sock
pressed against her scalp. She turns out to be a Paramedic Nurse. She's been hit with a paddle but
can't judge how badly hurt she is. I remove the sock and see two 2" long gashes in her scalp.
"You need stitching" She looks at me and I realized how absurd this situation must seem. Here I
am with black war paint all over my face, horns in the front of my helmet, speaking with a funny
accent telling her she need stitching 300 miles from the nearest Emergency Room. "We have a
surgeon in our group" I hastily add.
There are 2 rapids on the Colorado-river that even the toughest rafters have quite some respect for: Crystal and Lava. When we scout Crystal it feels like our watches have been replaced with calenders. Cool, calm and collected we enter Crystal. As ususal we have a choice between the easy way and the Butch Way. For us that's an easy choice, The challenges are in The Boneyard, but we're firmly determinated not to take permanent residence at the cemetery so once again we make it through 400' of raving mad water and huge waves.
The days are now more or less alike. But on the 10th day something happens that none of us will ever forget.
Butch & I are floating nice and easy down the river. Butch sees something at the other bank. I'm busy relaxing and enjoying the sun, and turns lazily when he says "It looks like a cow". When I see the look on his face and the thing he's pointing at my heart skips a beat. It's a dead body. I start rowing towards it, but Butch doesn't wanna come near it, so one of the other boat have to tug him along. He's swollen to the size of a cow and is only wearing a hiking boot.
Two hours after we get to camp the National Park Service Helicopter comes and takes out what used to be a man...
The big orange raft in the Bad Luck Club flips for the 2nd time. And this time is quite critical! The Oarsman has been guiding trips down the river for ages, but the raft flips he gets caught under it and is almost drowned. The other in the group gives him CPR for almost 5 minutes before he comes back to life. Dave checks him before we move on down the river. He's all right now, but I guess this is his last trip as a guide.
We arrive at Tapeats Creek and Eric, Doug and I decide to leave the rafts and take a hike down Surprise Valley Trail to Deer Creek Falls. According to Charles (who doesn't go on the hike) it is a very beautiful 2-hour hike past Thunder River. We start the hike at 3 PM so we think we have all the time in the world. This is a very wrong assumption!
We meet 2 other hikers who tells us that the hike takes 5-7 hrs.! "We're fucked" as Doug very nicely put it. We hike faster than a freight train, but have only made it to the rim when dusk arrives. And as if that wasn't bad enough, a rain storm is gathering right above us. Great! All the light we have is from the flashing lightning and our semi worn out camping flashlight.
The good thing abought the lightning is we're almost able to see where we're stepping, but the bad thing is the rain. We're not exactly dressed to go hiking in a rain storm. At the same time the temperature drops to app. 10 C. How great is it to wear shorts and t-shirt in that kind of weather? We have to keep moving to keep us warm.
The lightning is almost over and our flashlight batteries are dead when we discover a huge rock. We decide to seek shelter there and in our moment of exhilaration we shout "There's a big fxxxing rock". Much to our surprise the rock talks back "And there's 2 hikers underneath it". Our chins dropped, but they've also been caught by the rain.
I've now become so cold that my feet and hands almost are numb. I just wanna go to sleep. But a little red alarm light is flashing in the back of my head. What was it Ed said about hypothermia? If I fall asleep - will I ever wake up again? I take off my cold wet T-shirt and ask the two hikers if they by any chance has a dry shirt I can borrow. To my great surprise one of them answers "Yes" and pulls out a fleece top. Imagine a dry shirt can be such a lifesaver!
I'm soon to make another discovery. When it rains in the desert it's not only humans that seek
shelter. Rattlesnakes and scorpions don't care much for getting wet either. I remember an advice
someone told once "Play dead when a scorpion crawls on you, then they won't sting" So easy to say and so hard to do. Fortunately I'm stiff from cold, so it's not hard to play dead. But in the middle of the night I'm awoken by Doug who has a 8-legged intruder in his shorts. "Fuck it bit me" he yells while trying to brush it away. "Let's hope it's not a poisonous one" is Eric's cool
comment..
When sun rises at last after what might be the longest night in my life we hurry down to the kayaks and paddle downstream to our anxiously waiting friends. Of course I have to try and flip my inflatable kayak in the first available rapid. I've probably never been more happy to see a camp than this misty morning.
After 15 days on the river we reach the absolutely most challenging rapid: LAVA Rapid. 600 feet of raging water with a 37' drop. I look at it and I've never seen anything like it. All the others seem so silent. Butch looks at me and says he almost thinks it's too wild, so he won't mind waiting. Well, if he thinks it too wild, I don't really know what to think...
But the only way out is the way through. The right side has a 6-9 feet V-shaped wave that ends in a gigantic hole. At the end of the rapid on the right is a rock of the size of a house. But the real problem is, that there's only one way to run it. If you miss it you will flip (at least once).
Doug goes first in his kayak. Butch and I are (as usual) the first raft. We head for the rapid and Butch navigates the raft perfect. I've never before had this much adrenalin running in my veins. We are heading into an inferno of white water in the smallest vessel I've ever dared to defy such wild water in.
We hit the rapid perfect! It's like being in a giant roller coaster. The ride takes about 12 seconds. But it's the longest 12 sec. in my life. It's over and we're alive. We scream and shout like madmen to celebrate the gift of life.
Next raft is Dave & Diane. Dave think he must go further right than us and takes the raft directly into the roaring hole. "Dave, what the fuck are you doing" Butch yells. We just sit in our raft 600 feet away and can't do anything. For a half eternity (app. 30 seconds) they surf the hole. Powerless. While 500 tons of water each second runs across them. The accident is inevitable. And the raft flips and the rigid frame snaps like a piece of wood.
Dave & Diane are sucked down are get tumbled around for almost a minute. We spot Diane's flourescent pink helmet. Doug is already on his way to her rescue. He gets her and paddles towards us. But Diane won't let go of the kayak, so she holds both the kayak and the raft, but we manage to get her aboard. In the meantime Charles is getting Dave aboard in his raft.
All their equipment and the broken raft is going downstream, so we gotta row the best we can to catch as much as we can. It's a fight against time and current. But we manage to get almost everything back.
That evening is everybody dead-tired. We drink a lot of tequila, and I end up falling asleep while eating my dinner. At the end of such an eventful day the body will shut down when the limit is reached (well assisted by lots of tequila). The others claim that I can't walk to bed so instead I crawl across the sand like some old Navy Seal. It's probably true, because I have sand all over when I wake up next morning.
The adventure is almost over. 21 days and nights, 280 miles, 99 rapids and 1000's of impressions are behind us when we get ourselves ready for the last exertion. We have to cross the 2 miles wide Lake Mead. We get to the lake at 2 AM where the wind is blowing so hard that we don't move an inch even though we row the best we can. So we dock for the night and try to get some sleep on the rafts. Everyone is asleep when I wake up with an urge to go to the toilet. And it gotta be right now because you don't argue with a man with diarrhoea! Butch is sleeping right next to the Groover. I almost rips the lid off and tells Butch that if he don't wake up and give me the toilet paper, I'll shit on his sleeping bag. Well, when you've been so close to each other for so long time there really aren't any barriers left.
The next battle starts at sunup. The wind is still blowing hard right against us. We double team the oars and Doug is on our raft. So when I'm not rowing I'm on the Groover. After 4 hours of nightmare, we finally reach the beach, where our shuttle is waiting for us.
It's time to let the air out of the rafts. Quite a sad feeling after such an adventure. But one thing is certain. It's not my last trip on the Colorado River. As Arnold would have said: "I'll Be Back!!!"
