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Grand Canyon

June 28--July 5 2002	Grand Canyon Expeditions--8 Day raft trip
	Stan's 60th birthday celebration canyon expedition departed Lee's Landing on Friday, June 28, 2002. Twenty-eight somewhat apprehensive rafters boarded the two pontoon boats operated by Grand Canyon Expeditions. Guides Freddy and Butch, assisted by volunteer swampers Joe and Jen, instructed, cajoled, reassured, teased and berated us. Our adventure began. Let's get the hell out of here. Someplace, any place, must be cooler than this place. (One hundred nine degrees the previous day in Las Vegas).
Well, yes indeed. There is a cooler place. With Forty-seven degree water recently released from the bottom of Glen Canyon Dam, the front seats are down right chilly. Seating in the "tea room" otherwise dubbed first-class is at a premium. Dryer and easier to hear the chatter from the guides--and less chatter from the teeth of our compatriots. Nevertheless, the thrill of the rapids proves addictive for some and Connie's screams echo off the canyon walls. It doesn't get any better than this.
	Wildlife. Did we see any? Yes! Several sightings of big-horn sheep along the river banks--lizards, and chuckwallas, one small King snake, ravens, mergansers, swallows, swifts and canyon wrens, bats, a few scorpions and more red fire ants than there are stars in the sky.
The guides and swampers prepared breakfast, lunch and dinner. During the lunch stop the food table claimed the precious shade--when available. Wraps prove popular--easier to keep the avocado slices out of the sand. Cool drinks from the drag bags, cookies, God Bless America calendar-quality scenery in every direction. Does it get any better than this?
	Uh, yeah. It does. Cristi enjoys a shower (no soap) at a canyon near mile 39. We enjoy short hikes to places of "indescribable beauty" and welcome wet relief. The float down the warm, turquoise waters of the Little Colorado proved to be one of the trip's most memorable moments.
We visited an Anazazi-era winter-campsite, spotted granaries on the distant cliffs, and viewed petroglyphs still visible because of the protection provided by the overhang.
	Freddy taught us two mnemonics for remembering the canyon strata: Know The Canyon History; Study Rocks Made By Time. And, Kissing Takes Concentration; Sex Requires More Better Talent. These stand for: Kalibab Formation Toroweap Formation Coconino Sandstone Hermit Shale Supai Group Redwall Limestone Muav Limestone Bright Angel Shale Tapeats Sandstone ...but let us not forget the Vishnu Schist infused with Zoroaster Granite.
The sleeping arrangements. Well, this is a different story. We loved the stars overhead, and only one night did the red-ants refuse to retire (How come the smaller the pest the bigger the bite?) Only one night was cool enough to require any covering other than a wet sheet. The wise scouted out sites close to the river--but not in it, at least two feet from an ant nest, far from heat generating rock walls, and yet close enough to the boats donkeys weren't necessary for schlepping the gear back and forth. The rest of us collapsed wherever we could.
	Our favorite guide was Butch--if they ever make a movie of this laid-back river-man, Gene Hackman will have to play the part. Butch has made 150 or more trips down the canyon and expertly guided us thru the rapids, then let us gently and silently drift and swirl beneath the towering canyon walls. If we asked his advice, he gave us all the information we needed--then let us make our own choices. If we pestered him with questions, he simply told us, "It depends." If we asked a prediction, he answered, "Probably." How much more wisdom can one expect? At the bottom of the canyon the guide is God.
Then again, our other favorite guide was Freddy. Freddy read from Powell's journals, the poem Belle Zabore, and other short stories by David Lee. His passion for the canyon, its history and lore added spice to our experience. His passion for my leopard-skin tank top added spice to our evening entertainment.
The Urinettes! The highlight of the final night's No Talent Talent show was the adjacent lyrics sung by Dotty, Jane and Betsy to the tune of "Down to The River" from the movie "Oh Brother Where Art Thou?"	When I went down to the river to pee Wonderin’ who was looking at me Should I face front, or turn around? Good Lord, carry me down Chorus: Oh Rafters, let's go down Let's go down, come on down Oh Rafters, let's go down Down to the river to pee. Three women went down to the river to pee Depending upon their stability. One went down, then one, two, three Good Lord, carry me down. Dave came down to the boat to get on He took a header, and then was gone. He fell so hard, and splashed too hard He really drew a crowd. Slow and smooth the glassy ride As into the chasm we all glide. We face our death in the waves below Hope it ain't our time to go. Butch and Freddie and Joe and Jen Our extraordinary riverboat men Perhaps, maybe, yes and no, depends Their lack of certainty never ends. Connie’s packing never stops Bird enthusiasts point and squawk Fishing enthusiasts flick their twine But never a fish on the line. Floating down this river sublime Passing rocks as old as time The earth explodes, the lava flows And the river shows us the way. There’s sand in my hair and sand in my face There’s ants crawling all over this place The potty line is ten folks long Dear God, let me be strong. Chorus: Oh Rafters, let's go down Let's go down, come on down Oh Rafters, let's go down Down to the river to pee
Favorite Links:	Grand Canyon Expeditions Laughlin -- London Bridge Jet boat tours (Joe and Jen)
Books:	Canyon Solitude by Patricia C. McCairen Legacy of Shadows by David Lee A Canyon Voyage: Narrative of the Second Powell Expedition Grand Canyon:Time Below the Rim by Childs, Ladd Writing Down the River
Gather ‘round. Want to hear a story? One Day on The River	So, as I’m walking up the riverbank—fresh from my morning meditation I hear last call for groover and have to dive in the river to avoid the stampede toward the room with a view. Safely back in my campsite I do my daily air force exercise routine—rolling up my marble-matt and stuffing it in my sand-lined gray bag. I hear Geoff yell he’s caught a fish Freddy says throw it back and Butch tell him to put it in his ammo can, he’ll cook it on the last day for an hors d’oeuvre (wrapped in a red licorice whip, no doubt) but Jan overhears him and say that’s a big negatory on that one, big boy. Ten-four. Once on the raft we admire Jen’s new outfit which she has pulled out of a film canister and Jane Wagner is giving proper float hand waving lesson. When we stop for a short, hot hike to a destination Butch promises has indescribable beauty nineteen women walk into the water and drop their shorts while eleven men pretend this is business as usual. Meanwhile, Mary puts cold compress on her nose, Bill wraps everything insight in duct tape and Bruce jumps off anything he can find. During lunch there is another stampede for the avocados while Carrie sleeps under a wet sarong. During the afternoon stop—to another IB (indescribable beauty) Freddy walks past and says, ‘How you all doing over here’ I look around and seeing no one else, say just fine yawl and he says Know The Canyon History and I say Sex Requires More Better Talent and he says Study Rocks Made by Time and I say Sex requires Rocks and Leopard Tank-tops. He runs away down the trail, but Kathy comes around the bend with duct-tape on the knee so I know Bill Ratliff must be somewhere in that direction and I’m thinking this hike is too long and hot when Gary walks by wearing a life jacket and I says aren’t you hot and he says yes but I’m not sure why but I’ll diagram it and work up a P&L on it anyway. During dinner Sara tries to sprinkle salt on her own steak but Freddy grabs the shaker from her and says did you wash your hands? You don’t have a license to do that. After dinner Jane Davis pulls out her guitar to sing Old Man River in Stan’s honor but Susan interrupts to ask Butch how high is the sky Butch says I’ve given you the information what you do with it is up to you. Then Joe asks the group if they will ever come back for another Grand Canyon trip and the group asks will you have us back to which Butch says it depends. So Spunky Butt bounces up and says we can all come back because she’s coming out with a new line of Designer River Wear called Spunky Butt Depends and when it hits the market with a big splash there will be three styles; Alice—a petite size decorated with a red-ant motif, Jack—a medium size thong style in a Vishnu schist-shade of black, and Snake—a black and white striped king-size.