September 7-Middle Two Hundred Twenty Mile

–  These next sections are from There’s This River, Grand Canyon Boat Stories, edited by Christa Sadler, read by Saint.

There are several hundred men and women who presently work, part-time or full time, for the fifteen commercial companies in the Grand Canyon.  There are many who no longer work in the canyon as guides but remain here in their hearts.  I have come to respect these people more than any I’ve ever met.  They are a unique bunch, not given to following or joining, yet despite themselves, they’ve become a community.  They are raunchy, rowdy and kind.  They are some of the most talented people I know.  They can take a thirty-seven foot motor rig through a rocky rapid at low water, or guide a tiny paddleboat through the giant waves of Lava Falls without missing a stroke.  They can cook the best food you’ve ever eaten, bandage a wound, set up a tent during the rain in record time, play the guitar, sing opera, patch a seven-foot rip in the boat while still grinning.  In their other lives these people are teachers, doctors, psychologists, ski instructors, carpenters, artists, moviemakers, technicians, photographers, masseurs, scientists.  Good people to have on your side.

Our stories make us a community.  It’s why we came.  It’s what inspires our writing, our photography, our paintings, our lives.  It’s why we stay.  Not just for the rapids or the hikes.  Boatmen who show up to conquer the rapids don’t usually stay that long.  Only five percent of the river is whitewater, and most of this is pretty straightforward once you learn the entry and the one or two moves you might have to make.  If you’re there for the rapids, you could get bored.  There are long flat stretches of water, when the wind is more than likely going to be blowing upstream.  There is baking heat and water so cold it’s often no even refreshing.  There are sand storms that plaster everything in camp with grit.  There’s the Trip Leader From Hell.

            But in the mornings a golden band of light moves down the cliffs towards the river, and in the afternoon that same band moves back up until it is only a sliver at the top and then it is gone.  The canyon wrens are only the size of golf balls, but their songs echo off the canyon walls as you float by.  Side canyons here lead to trickling waterfalls with maidenhair ferns and columbine.  Raging summer thunderstorms create red-brown waterfalls that plummet eight hundred feet to the river, and turn it brick red in an instant.  The stars at night sparkle shamelessly in an uneven narrow band bounded by the black silhouettes of the canyon walls.  Some of the rapids make your gut curl beforehand, and afterwards you howl as loud as you possibly can, to no one, and to everyone.

            Your friends are here.  You MAKE friends here.  When a group starts out together, many of the passengers think that they are just “going on a river trip.” It doesn’t take long to discover you’ve signed up for a journey;.  You become a family, all of you together, floating through this wild and inaccessible place.  You depend on each other.  As with any family, there are quirks and oddities, good times and bad.  But there is no way you can leave this place without being affected somehow by the experience you’ve just shared.  Some of the best friendships I have began on river trips.

            River trips.  Always there is a river.  She rages, she teases, and she plays.  She keeps all of us on our toes and gives us reason for a life that we find hard to leave.  Even boatman who have left the river can’t stay away.  They come back for private trips, they bring their kids, they do science that keeps them in the canyon, the become National Park Service Rangers.

            These are people worth knowing.  This is a place worth knowing.  Few in our world are lucky enough to find something that they truly love and be able to stick with it long enough to turn it into a life.  These men and women have learned how to do just that, and this book is a tribute to them and the place they call home. 

            We are indebted to some impressive pioneers of the river – people like John Wesley Powell, Robert Stanton, Nathaniel Galloway, Norm Nevills, Dock Marston, Bert Loper, Georgie Clark, and many others.  There has been a great deal of change since those early days.  Companies have been bought and sold, equipment has improved, food has gotten fancier.  Now all the passengers and boatmen wear special shorts and river sandals, where it used to be cut-off jeans and old tennis shoes.  But the river flows on.  In time, other boatmen will stand on our shoulders and these stories will be their legends.  And so it goes.  Welcome to the Grand Canyon and the Colorado River.  Welcome to a way of life.- It changed my life

Things look a little different in the morning light.

Jay made sure the prayer flags had a prime spot in every camp.

Pumpkin Springs

Fun rain or shine

Nature provides a show. She must be special.

And then there was Captain's night

Greg, are you ready for this?

The rest stays on the river.

Jay, accompanied by Kristian:

“Grand Canyon 2010”

with some lyrical modifications from the original sung at mile 220 on September 7, 2010

(to the tune of Sloop John B, by the Beach Boys) 

If you don’t know the tune, check out this link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fdov2UIjUpY

Grand Canyon two thousand ten

Anticipation was building, and then

We launched from Lee’s Ferry and started our journey of dreams

The Colorado is deep

Lava Falls is quite steep, ah shit

This here is the best trip I’ve ever been on.

Chorus:

So hoist up your paddles and oars

The Grand Canyon whispers and roars

We’re heading for Diamond but memories never will end

Thanks seems really trite

For a trip that was oh, so right

She’ll never be conquered; Grand Canyon my friend.

Fourteen strangers soon became friends

At Phantom Ranch we said farewell to Jen

Dan and Sally hiked on down from Bright Angel Trail

Now our group of fifteen

Saw things most only glimpse, on a screen

Such magic and wonders, adventures unveiled

(Chorus)

Now Greg was the group T.L.

He put us through so much hell

We had to row 22 miles against upstream wind

But we all agreed

T.L.’s no easy deed

So please stop complaining, he really is kind

(Chorus)

There’s things that I can’t explain

Like the feeling of Nankoweep Rain

Or the maze at Matkatamita and Elve’s Chasm falls

The Grand’s spirit is strong

Would you please come along

You know it, you’ve heard it, the Grand Canyon calls

(Chorus)

Thanks to Cindy and Catie and Greg

For inviting us all on this leg

Such riches we all have shared, good friends we’ve become

And it’s been quite a trip

Not even one single flip

If you’re looking for Louie, he’s safely at home

(Chorus)

We get to camp here!

 Read by Kristian, in honor of Big Water Bob

The Call of the Wild by Robert Service

Have you gazed on naked grandeur where there’s nothing else to gaze on,

Set pieces and drop-curtain scenes galore,

Big mountains heave to heaven which the blinding sunsets blazon, Black canyons

where the rapids rip and roar?

Have you swept the visioned valley with the green stream streaking through it,

            Searched the Vastness for a something you have lost?

Have you strung your soul to silence?  Then, for God’s sake go and do it;

            Hear the challenge, learn the lesson, pay the cost.

Have you wandered in the wilderness the sagebrush desolation,

            The bunchgrass levels where the cattle graze?

Have you whistled bits of ragtime at the end of all creation,

            And learned to know the desert’s little ways?

Have you camped upon the foothills, have you galloped o’er the ranges,

            Have you roamed the arid sun-lands through and through?

Have you chummed up with the mesa?  Do you know its moods and changes?

            Then listen to the wild---it’s calling you.

Have you known the Great White Silence, not a snow-gemmed twig aquiver?

            (Eternal truths that shame our soothing lies.)

Have you broken trail on snowshoes, mushed your huskies up the river,

            Dared the unknown, led the way, and clutched the prize?

Have you marked the map’s void spaces, mingled with the mongrel races,

            Felt the savage strength of brute in every thew?

And though grim as hell the worst is, can you round it off with curses?

            Then, hearken to the Wild---it’s wanting you.

Have you suffered, starved, and triumphed, groveled down, yet grasped at glory,

            Grown bigger in the bigness of the whole?

Have you seen God in His splendors, heard the text that nature renders….

            (You’ll never hear it in the family pew.)

The simple things, the true things, the silent men who do things?

            Then listen to the wild-----it’s calling you.

They have cradled you in custom, the have primed you with their preaching,

            They have soaked you in convention through and through;

They have put you in a showcase; you’re a credit to their teaching.

            But can’t you hear the Wild? ---it’s calling you.

Let us probe the silent places, let us seek what luck betides us;

            Let us journey to a lonely land I know.

There’s a whisper on the night-wind, there’s a star agleam to guide us,

            And, the Wild is calling….calling…..let us go.

(Watched the ram chasing the ewe up and down the hillsides on the other side of the river….happy hour entertainment, including horseshoes on the “peninsula course”. Greg, do you know what you are wearing? What a tribute to Greg as he put this entire group together!   Presented Cindy with a crown for ALL of her planning and organizing with food for this trip, and assisting Greg with the over-all plans. Kristian read Call of the Wild…..memories of so many other river trips with Bob Krautkramer, Harry DeLashmutt, or Dick Randolph sharing it with the group.  I remember the first time we heard it –  in Alaska in 1977.  And, so, traditions continue!  This was a big night for inscribing our names on the guitar, which will be retired after this trip.  Hand-print in blue on Saint’s head.  Don’s special hat returns.  Dan has the luck of the Irish with his all green beard.  We are lucky kids!)

Last day Chicken salad

5 oz can turkey or chicken, drained
2 T craisins
1 chopped orange
1/4 c shredded cheese
3 T miracle whip-no dead eggs
2 T chopped celery
2 T chopped pecans
Mix

Awesome Captain's  night 15 dinner - Pasta with artichokes, wild mushrooms and lemon

Asparagus-Paremsan Gougeres (appetizer- dinner 15)
 1/4 lb asparagus spears
3/4 c milk
5 T butter, cut into pieces
3/4 c flour
1/2 tsp salt
1/4 tsp cayenne pepper
3/4 c grated Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese
1/2 c shredded Gruyere cheese
Preheat oven to 400 degrees.
Snap off tough ends of asparagus spears. Cut remainders on diagonal into 1/4" pieces. Bring saute pan 3/4 full of salted water to boil. Add asparagus and simmer til just tender. Drain immediately and set aside. In heavy saucepan over med-hi heat, combine milk and butter and bring to boil. As soon as it reaches a boil and butter has melted, remove from heat and add flour, salt and cayenne. Using wooden spoon, beat vigorously til mixture thickens and pulls away from sides of the pan. Remove from heat. Add eggs, one at a time, beating well after each. Let cool for 10 min. Line 2 baking sheets with parchment paper and lightly butter. Add asparagus and all cheese to the dough and stir to mix well. Using a teaspoon, scoop rounded spoonfuls of dough and place 1" apart on baking shets. Bake til golden brown, 20-25 min.