The top of the Grand Canyon can be hard to see because it's far from the river downstream. Hikers who joined the rafting group along the way had to walk a long distance to the meeting point at Phantom Ranch. (Courtesy of Kari Smolen)
About a year ago, when my friend Nina told me she had obtained her non-commercial rafting permit in the Grand Canyon, I never imagined how lucky she was, or how lucky I would be after she invited me on a Colorado River expedition.
The National Park Service awards these non-commercial rafting permits using a weighted lottery system every February, but last year there were just 495 available. (Of course, there are also park-approved 1- to 18-day commercial rafting trips available as part of Grand Canyon National Park.) Neenah's permit was for a group of 16 people at a time (more on this later) to traverse the 225 miles from Lee's Ferry to Diamond Creek in 16 days.
Our rafting group from across the country met in snowy Flagstaff just before St. Patrick's Day, packed up with our outfitter, Moenkopi Riverworks, and headed to Lee's Ferry. It was amazing how much food and gear we could fit into four 18-foot inflatable rafts and one 15-foot raft. We even brought propane-fired fire pits. Each raft had an experienced captain, four of whom had rafted the Grand Canyon multiple times.
We quickly fell into a rhythm, starting each morning with coffee and breakfast before packing up and paddling 10 to 20 miles downstream to our next destination. The atmosphere felt like adult summer camp, with a bit of wilderness exploration mixed with vacation, complete with DIY meal kits to cook in the sturdy outdoor kitchen.
With no internet or cell service tethering us to outside life, friendships were quick to form and new discoveries awaited around every bend in the river. We rode along the Roaring Twenties, a series of splashy rapids that were like a natural rollercoaster ride. At Nautiloid Creek, we took a quick detour to see nautilus fossils embedded in the rocks. At Nankoweap, we took a side trip to a Native American granary.
A little after mile 61, we passed the flooded Little Colorado River where it joins the Colorado River. The water was the color of milk chocolate, and fine sediment mixed into a vital water source for large swaths of the western United States.
The first few days flew by, and by the fifth day we reached Phantom Ranch (89 miles) and replaced four members of our group with four friends who had hiked up to meet us. There we experienced the closest thing to civilization at the bottom of the Grand Canyon, with outdoor restrooms and a gift shop selling ice-cold lemonade and postcards that could be sent by mule from the canyon.
Then we let the current carry us downriver. The raftsmen took turns rowing, sitting forward or backward on the oar, depending on their preference. It took me a frustrating few days of practice, but once I got the hang of it, pulling and pushing the boat along the river felt quite meditative. We even managed to paddle through a few small rapids, which was quite thrilling.
As we traveled deeper into the canyon, new rock layers emerged: gray-and-yellowish Mu'ab limestone, greenish Bright Angel shale, and the 500-million-year-old pancake-like walls of Tapeats sandstone. The Grand Canyon's 1.7-billion-year-old “basement” Vishnu Schist showed the pink streaks of Zoroastrian granite.
Around mile 117 we reached Elf Chasm, a gorgeous canyon oasis with a swimming hole and waterfalls. As the day was starting to warm up it was the perfect place to cool off.
At Blacktail Camp, we passed a canyon with a small cave where a few friends were giving impromptu ukulele and guitar performances. Just behind them, at eye level, we could see the Great Unconformity, a horizontal crack in the rock where about a billion years of geological time have disappeared. Time is imprinted in the rock throughout the canyon, but here there is nothing. Singing along to the Noah Kahan and Kamp tunes the group was playing felt sacred and a little eerie in this ancient canyon where a billion years have vanished without a trace.
And so the journey continued. We stopped to explore Dolls House (mile 131), a maze of river-scrubbed schist ridges that welcome exploration. (This was also a scouting point for one of the most dangerous rapids we faced, a Class 7 rock face; rapids in the Grand Canyon are classified on a scale of 1 to 10, rather than the more standard 1 to 6 scale.)
A few miles downriver, we camped near Tapeats Creek and hiked up a trail to Deer Creek. It was one of the best-maintained trails, and much of our outing felt like rock climbing in unmarked terrain.
One of the highlights of the trip was a stop at Havasu Canyon, where the water suddenly turned turquoise. We waded through chest-high water. The canyon opened up into a little paradise with lush greenery, cool shade, and the bluest water I've ever seen.
It was a moment of calm as we prepared for the last big rapid of the trip – the Lava River, the largest and most dangerous.
Our fears about these Class 9 rapids had been building for days. The Grand Canyon inspires a certain reverence and superstition for river gods, so just to be safe, we performed a silly collective ritual to thank the river and honor its powers. It seemed like a particularly good idea when, moments later, the landscape suddenly changed and water began swirling around canyon walls dotted with black basalt chunks and remnants of volcanic ejecta, catapulting our raft safely through.
Afterwards we enjoyed a traditional river pastime of visiting Tequila Beach, whose nickname has nothing to do with drinking copious amounts of celebratory booze.
Two days later, on Easter Sunday, we woke up to find Easter eggs hidden around the campsite, each containing a challenge. The mayhem began.
Soon we reached Diamond Creek and the takeout point, our first exposure to the road, albeit a bumpy dirt road, since the journey began 225 miles earlier.
After unloading and dismantling the boat, we drove out to Route 66, where we had a cathartic encounter at an A&W. After days without electricity, I couldn't have been more excited to experience flushing toilets and milkshakes. But what I gained from the trip — new friends, new arm muscles (sort of), new skills, and whitewater lingo — was unforgettable.
If you go
Whitewater rafting in Grand Canyon National Park, whether on a guided commercial trip or a private tour, usually requires advance planning. For more information, see https://www.nps.gov/grca/planyourvisit/whitewater-rafting.htm. The park also partners with operators to offer full- and half-day rafting trips from Page, Arizona: nps.gov/grca/planyourvisit/one-day-river-trip.htm.
