Rafting the Upper Grand Canyon

Before we begin to describe the indescribable, let us explain a little background to our upper canyon rafting trip. Back in August, Denise, in a burst of inspiration, had realized that a dream of hers had always been to raft down the Colorado River. Something to do having remembered how incredible the canyon and the river seemed in the IMAX movie Grand Canyon: Hidden Secrets when she saw it back in 5th grade. Pelle was immediately on board—what better way to see one of our own country’s most magnificent sights? Fast forward to April, a day before we leave for our road trip. A ‘quick’ trip to REI found us 2 hours later armed with the $600 of overpriced ‘essentials’ we would need for rafting the Upper Grand Canyon in the unpredictable spring season. New waterproof paddle jackets and pants, neoprene socks, woolly fleece pants, sturdy water bottles, and glasses straps would come in handy if/when we had to combat the 50-degree water and the possible rain storms, searing desert heat or blowing snow that could rear up at any minute. Luckily when we arrived at our orientation the night before our trip, the river outfitter, Canyon Explorations Expeditions, had all of this gear for sale for half the price. Back to REI would all of our first round gear go.

The night before our trip began, after a very informative orientation and armed with instructions for how we should be dressed in the morning (ready to get wet!), we dumped half of the clothing we had intended to bring (visions of that 7.5-mile hike burned into our corneas) and packed what remained into our dry bags. Next morning after a 2.5-hour bus ride, we were at the Lee’s Ferry launch site with baby Grand Canyon walls starting to rise up to the west. Woo-hoo! Hardy souls that we were, we volunteered for the paddle boat.

That first day, we paddled, paddled, paddled against an evil head wind. When we weren’t eking out inches forward, we were pushed backward by the yard. We made 10 hard miles that first day, but our spirits were not dampened. We were in the Grand Canyon and it was beautiful. We were on the Colorado River and it was powerful. We were tired but would relax in an oar boat the next day.

The next 5 days flew by in a blaze of white water and stunning views. We rafted about half of each day and hiked the other half. Each breakfast, lunch and dinner was a gourmet affair, courtesy of our multi-talented rafting crew. We learned about the eons of geologic turmoil that created the canyon and the relatively short span of time that man had lived in and around it. We saw barrel cactus, prickly pear and agave in bloom. We climbed steep and fractured cliff walls. We felt the achingly strong water beneath and pouring over top of our boat. Pelle conquered several huge rapids in an inflatable 1-man duckie boat and safely swam a few. We slept out under starry skies, the likes of which we had not seen anywhere before. We met people who were as excited as we were to be there.

Our last day came all too quickly. We were sad to leave the Canyon and all her glories and secrets behind. Our hike out on the Bright Angel Trail was not as hellacious as we thought it would be, but was exhausting nonetheless. Our arrival at the top brought the crude realization that most everyone in the world who sees the Grand Canyon does little but peer over the edge, understanding little of the layer upon layer of the life that creates her. Some do not even see the river at the bottom. We cannot wait for our return – we are definitely taking the full river trip next time!

p.s. If you haven't read it, The Emerald Mile is an epic tale of the Canyon. Read it!