Now look carefully at my blue backpack on the ground behind me. Look closer. Closer than I did when I put it down.
Look as closely as I looked when Dean asked if he could have some of my water and I saw a Smirnoff Ice bottle waiting for me when I reached down to grab it for him.
Damnit, Dean. He had surreptitiously switched out the bottles as we were hiking up. We have about two cubic feet worth of storage allotted to each of us on the boats, and Dean used a fourth of his to bring a six pack of Smirnoff Ice. That's true friendship.
For those of you who did not go to college in the early 2000s, icing is when someone hides a bottle of Smirnoff Ice for an unsuspecting friend, who then has to drink the stomach-churning beverage upon its discovery. This was not the first time I was the unsuspecting friend.
But Dean's not the only true friend on this trip. For well over six months, I had been thinking of ways to finally tilt the scales and Ice the Icer. GCW's pre-trip literature (written by Dean, incidentally) discourages bringing glass bottles. So I scoured the liquor stores of Northern Arizona to find Smirnoff Ice in a can. Turns out, it does exist, and I smuggled a few cans on board when we launched. But this round belonged to Dean, fair and square.
We camped that day at a sprawling expanse with early shade. It was just one of several top-notch campsites Ted had picked out for us that week. There's no communication in the Grand Canyon, and campsites can't be reserved. So there's a little bit of luck (and sometimes bartering) involved in getting the right campsite for each group. Some sites have side hikes, some have a lot of space for games, some have good views of wildlife. The guides know them all like the back of their hands, and know which site would be the best fit for each of their groups. It's yet one more reason I'm glad that Aimee and I didn't apply for a private trip permit and try to figure this out ourselves.
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| Photo: Greg Bryan |
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| Photo: Greg Bryan |
We set up camp, ate a dinner that was way better than it needed to be, and spent the evening playing an epic game of frisbeer that lasted well into the night.
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| Photo: Greg Bryan |
One day in, and this is already the trip of a lifetime.
Coffee call was a bit before 6 am the next morning (I think, I didn't bring a watch). After a three course breakfast, we broke camp and got back on the water. This was going to be another epic day.
Who needs coffee?
Our main destination that day was "The Confluence." Although there are several confluence points when various streams and rivers feed into the Colorado River. The entry point of the Little Colorado River is known as The Confluence among river guides. And for good reason.
The warm crystal blue waters are as striking as they are swimable, and every rafting trip since rafting trips took off in the 1960s has stopped there to cool off and play around.
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| Photo: Greg Bryan |
Most of the southern border of the Grand Canyon abuts the Navajo reservation, and the National Park Service regulations against construction and development don't apply there. So a concessions vendor approached the Navajo Council about building a tramway down to the bottom of the Grand Canyon to shuttle tourists back and forth. The proposal was extremely controversial, the money trail was murky, and it would have dramatically altered one of the most unique places on earth.
Thankfully, a group of Navajo families, with the backing of thousands of river enthusiasts, were able to stop the development. It took years of heated public hearings, and a new generation of leadership on the Tribal Council, but it looks like the area is safe for now. It's a good reminder about how lucky we are to have protected natural environments in our country, and how important it is to defend them.
That evening's campsite had a nice little side hike leading off of it. Everyone meandered around at their own pace, and I made sure that Dean's meandering was always in front of my backpack.
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| Photo: Greg Bryan |
Then it was beer, sleep, and coffee before we were back out on the water again.
The first landmark of the day (Tuesday, I'm pretty sure) was a pedestrian bridge linking the two sides of the canyon near Phantom Ranch.
Aimee and I had crossed it nearly seven years earlier when we hiked down to visit our friend Greg Bryan. At the time, Greg was working at Phantom Ranch, where he and a crew of a dozen or so adventurous twenty-somethings ran the entire guest operation, from cooking to cleaning to medevacing out the occasional over-ambitious, under-prepared, or simply unlucky hiker.
Prior to that, Greg worked for years as a professional photojournalist, which is why some of our photos from this trip (and the one seven years ago) are so outstanding. Dean and Jill were also photojournalists, for that matter, and there was a lot of talk on the trip about how lucky we were to have such nice photos to look back on.
Speaking of medevac flights, it looks like the current crew of Phantom Ranchers had their hands full that day.
That helicopter was the first and only aircraft we saw on the entire trip. The FAA protects the airspace above the Grand Canyon for several reasons. The first is obviously because of the serene environment. But the airspace over the canyon is where one of the worst aviation disasters in US history occurred. In 1956, a TWA Super Constellation and a United DC-7 collided over an area not too far from Phantom Ranch. The loss of life was so great, and the body recovery so difficult (Swiss mountain climbers were hired to descend into the particularly treacherous crash site) that the US Government and the aviation industry agreed on several major reforms to our country's air traffic control system. The result was what is now the Federal Aviation Administration, and why mid-air collisions are so exceedingly rare these days.
Our most memorable stop that day was Elves Chasm, an unexpectedly green carve-out into the canyon wall that features a stunning swim-through waterfall.
Of course, you had to keep a sharp eye out for sneaky elves looking to ice you.
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| Photo: Greg Bryan |
Not this time, Dean.
Our camp that night was particularly epic, even by this trip's standards.
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| Photo: Greg Bryan |
While Tyler (our equally skilled and slightly quieter assistant guide) cooked the pork chops, Ted gave that night's orientation talk. To your right is the gallon jug of margarita mix...
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| Photo: Greg Bryan |
To your left is the most scenic commode in the Southwestern United States.
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| Photo: Greg Bryan |
This guy really knows the river.
As you undoubtedly noticed after the initial shock, the river toilet system is actually pretty clever. The "groover" in river guide parlance (for the grooves that the previous generation of toilets would leave on your legs after using one) contains all human waste generated by each trip. The guides set up a clean one each night, and seal them up each morning to later be cleaned out by a sewage facility back in Flagstaff after the trip. It keeps the river clean and the passengers comfortable. And it's typically placed in a quiet location to allow users not named Ted a modicum of privacy while going to the bathroom.
The gallon jug of margarita mix paved the way for a costume party to celebrate Jill's birthday.
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| Photo: Greg Bryan |
Which paved the way for a fire baton show from former college majorette and current mom of two Aimee Stone.
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| Photo: Greg Bryan |
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| Photo: Greg Bryan |
It brought the house down.
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| Photo: Greg Bryan |
Jill loved her surprise birthday present, and somehow Ted managed to go the entire night without lighting his polyester suit on fire. Not a bad evening.
