Day
10
It could not have
happened to a better team. The
Campbells not only need to scramble eggs for breakfast, they also need to boil
eggs to make egg salad sandwiches for lunch.
Now not all of the eggs made it over the Horn intact, but we can count
on the Campbells to find a way to get the job done.
Then we’re off
down the Middle Granite Gorge of the Grand Canyon. Here’s Jean setting out in her kayak, looking
like that awesome breakfast was no big deal.
Interesting
geological formations, including a Doll’s House made of polished rock. Here’s Ardis and Tom climbing around.
Bedrock Rapid is
right out of the Flintstones. It
features a giant hunk of granite in the middle and a boulder field is the only
visible route from river right. The
river does flow around the left side of the rock, but all are in agreement to
avoid that route because the guidebooks say it requires a sharp 90° turn. The only way to negotiate a sharp turn like
that in a big raft is to bounce off the rock, a doubly dangerous maneuver that
risks tearing the raft, or wrapping the raft, or both. (A wrap happens when the current upends a
raft and holds it sideways against a rock – hard to unglue without a winch and
particularly unpleasant for anyone trapped between raft and rock.)
Here’s Sandy
taking a picture of his family in Bedrock.
Check out the Campbell
pictures.
Once in the water
we find that although we want to go to the right of the bedrock, the current
has other ideas. We do make the cut,
bounce over to the right, and eddy out below to watch the other rafters.
Now Charlie has
consistently taken a conservative line up to this point and I gotta believe he was
headed around the right of the rock.
But he, Mona and Ardis disappear into the unknown on the left.
A long minute
passes. “They’ll be fine!” we say to one
another.
Still no
sign. Jules, who has parked his kayak on
the Bedrock itself, now starts to climb over it barefoot to see what’s become
of the raft. Just then, Charlie, Mona,
and Ardis come shooting out from around the rock, all smiles.
Will and Chuck
plan to hike out on the Tapeats Creek Trail in the morning. Camping at the mouth of the creek at mile 134
will give us one more festive night together and a chance to hike with them a
bit in the morning. The rapids have
moved us along swiftly and we’re taking a leisurely float of the home stretch.
Jeff is the first
to spot the storm. He minored in
meteorology and plots the course of the thunderhead to intersect with our
proposed campsite. At first glance,
there’s no cause for alarm – the ridge to the left of the Tapeats creek is high
enough to clear the flood plain.
After we pull in
to investigate, however, it becomes clear that there are no decent tent spots
along the ridge – just a steep slope up, a 3’ flat spot next to the cliff, and
another steep slope up. The other side
of the creek is flatter but still low, rock strewn and likely to get very wet
very soon. A Sierra Club backpacking
group has spread out over there too. The
combined wilderness expertise preparing to camp next to a creek fed by a narrow
canyon in a thunderstorm is astonishing.
But we’re doing
it. Jeff, Mona, Ardis and I are
squeezing our tents behind the shelter of a rock outcropping, figuring that any
flashflood would have to hit that rock and bounce off before flowing around,
giving us a few seconds edge.
Jeff has one of
those freestanding dome tents. He’s
tilted it on edge to guide the last tent pole through the nylon hoops when a
sudden gust of wind snatches it. Up,
up, up it goes Wizard of Oz style, spinning, circling, and eventually turning
into a tiny speck that disappears inland over the top of the plateau. Jeff is left holding a broken tent pole and
the rain cuts loose.
Jean and I hang
out in a cave partway up the ridge.
It’s actually a pleasant time chatting looking out over the Colorado
River valley, watching it rain. Jeff comes by, distraught as you might imagine. We’re eight days from civilization, caught in
a rainstorm, and he’s just lost his shelter.
At a break in the
storm, Will and Chuck climb up over the rainbow to locate the tent. Meanwhile, Jeff strings his rain fly across
the mouth of the cave and moves in to his new home. Here’s a snapshot taken later that night.
I take the
opportunity to identify the gear I’d like to have on high ground in the event
of a flood: all of it! Three trips up the
winding trail and I have everything tucked away at the highest visible
cave. Everything except my tent which I
leave in place hoping the weather will mellow out a bit.
It doesn’t. The Wilfleys stick to their posts anyway and
cook a wonderful curry chicken dinner.
It makes me homesick – I’ve never been to India so I associate curry
with California.
The climbers come
back with a tent report: ¼ mile up where
the canyon is too narrow to hike, the tent is stuck in a chimney, 200’ up or
100’ down depending on how you look at it.
Best chance of getting the tent is from above. That will require a treacherous climb that
won’t happen in the gathering darkness and recurring storm.
After dinner
conversation is grim. We are where we
are. Taking to the boats in darkness and
rain would be a greater danger with no assurances of finding a better
site. Advice is given to bring a knife
and PFD into the tent to use in the event of a flood. I’m not going anywhere near my tent if I’ll
need to cut my way out of it! I just
don’t see that happening while a wall of water and rock crushes in.
Mona quietly gives
Jeff the emergency radio with instructions to scramble atop the ridge and call
for help if the creek floods.
The rain begins
anew and the group retires for the night.
I find even the high cave confining and take up a spot on Jeff’s
porch. I’ve got a little overhang
offering some protection from the rain but I’m relying heavily on the Gortex
and warm-when-wet side of my wardrobe.
The ground is far from level, but I’m reclining in a Crazy Creek chair
with my PFD for a headrest. All in all,
it’s about as comfortable as flying coach across the Atlantic.
Nature puts on
quite a show. Lightning cracks the
sky. Down the valley at first, then
close enough to illuminate the Sierra Club camp across the way. It alternates between striking first the
plateau in front of me then the plateau behind. We’re in the center of the storm now.