By Steve Childs
Bio
Steve owns and operates both Silverbirch canoes and Tootega SOT kayaks with his business partner, James Dennis, in Norfolk. Steve is involved in every aspect of the day to day business – from production management to product design, research & development, and quality control – ensuring his and Jame’s obsessive attention to detail in design not only spills across into the end product but to the entire ethos of both companies.
The Grand Canyon
Hang around paddling for long enough and you’ll hear hushed stories about the, “Greatest trip in the world,” “always being above Lava,” “boating the big ditch” and a myriad of other clichés – all describing the Grand Canyon of the Colorado River. Its 280 miles of canyon, desert wilderness and white water make up what’s possibly the most famous river trip in the paddlesport world.
I’ve spent more than three months trying to start this article now, which is odd, because I’m never usually short of things to say…
The truth is – I don’t think I can do the place, people, or experience justice and I’m beginning to understand why so many people proclaim to be in love with the canyon, and yet have so little to say about it.
The 278 miles from Lee’s Ferry to Pierce Ferry may contain some of the most fabled rapids in North America, but its true strength is the mind-blowing beauty. A majestic and virtually unspoilt wilderness, which slowly consumes you with its rugged simplicity, shielding you from the outside world until it almost becomes irrelevant.
There are already endless superlatives about the place – that was my best attempt on the 10-hour flight home from Vegas, and progressively since, I’ve found it harder to say little more than, “It was awesome, go do it, it’ll change your life.”
Until I stood at Lee’s Ferry, the get-in for the canyon, I couldn’t have ever begun to understand the magnitude of the place, the sheer mind blowing beauty of the desert, and the sheer logistical siege, which is more than three weeks gear for a trip that could see all four seasons (and would) in the same day! Put simply, everything about the canyon quietly overloads you, you don’t have a trip on the Grand, you become part of one – it’s not about you, it’s about the experience, and in the most simplistic terms, perhaps that explains everything.
For most, the canyon isn’t a trip you just stumble into. A private canyon trip relies on a huge amount of planning, and an even bigger amount of luck. Obtaining a permit is now literally a lottery, and to be honest, one I had given up on attempting to win!
I’ve dreamt of paddling the Grand for as long as I can remember.
entire life
You see, the canyon, indirectly, has dictated my entire life – It all started when my headteacher at school decided to show a video with kayaking in it – the location wasn’t important, but the huge crashing waves between towering cliffs immediately captivated me, and I joined my local canoe club a few days later.
Of course, eventually I realised the location ‘was’ important, where it was, and added it to my ‘trip-list’ But the real urge to paddle it only came when I saw photos of the ‘white water warriors’ trip back in 1993. These guys were only a few years older than me, and there they were paddling an almost 300-mile long section of white water – I had to do it!
Year after year went by. I was adamant I neither wanted to, nor could afford to go on a commercial trip and so blindly carried on applying for permits – after a while the annual cycle of disappointment began to erode the dream, and at some point I stopped entering the lottery.
The dreams never stopped though… The idea of riding massive, glassy surf waves under mile-high cliffs never left my thoughts and so when life threw me a curveball a few years ago, I decided to have one last go at getting a permit – mostly as a distraction from illness. The idea was I would lose again, then finally give in and book a commercial trip as a recovery treat.
Back in 2017, a sudden bout of sepsis led to emergency surgery, a colostomy bag and the abrupt end of life as I had known it. Paddling, the one constant in my life instantly became a banned activity, which courtesy of complications and additional surgery was my new reality for several years.
Of course, unable to paddle I finally won a permit – thankfully for me it was virtually as late into 2019 as was possible giving me the most time humanly possible to recover from the surgery I already had and the reconnection surgery (I hoped) was yet to happen.
Distraction (more than) achieved.
Canyon highlights
Part of the problem with the canyon is the virtually endless points of interest. it’s very hard to know where to start when describing the canyon to anyone. Here are a few of my personal highlights… The archaeology The canyon has a deep history of human travel and inhabitancy. Much of which is easily accessible to river trips. Personal highlights included the Nankoweap Granaries, which look over one of the most impressive canyon vistas I saw. The Deer Creek Patio – the handprints on the rock walls are incredible, as is the geology, and the view… and the desert view watch tower, which looms ominously over the river for what seems like days.
The geology…
It might be an obvious one, but the canyon is a unique opportunity to go on a geological road trip. From some of the newest rocks on the planet to some of the oldest. If the rock itself doesn’t interest you, the changing views, fauna, and flora will! Personal favourites included Vulcan’s Anvil – a huge volcanic boulder which sits mid-river, just above Lava falls, and Redwall Cavern, which no end of pictures will prepare you for!
Food and Logistics
I’ve been fortunate enough to paddle many rivers around the world, but nothing, not even 30 years of waiting, will prepare you for the sheer logistics of a multi-week trip on the Grand.
It’s certainly not fast and light! Everything is super-sized. From the 300-mile+ shuttles, the 18ft oar-rigs, to the tons of food, and the novel concept of taking everything – literally including the kitchen sink(s) with you.
Our set up included 5 x 18ft rafts – necessary to get the 25 days of food and additional winter gear safely down the canyon and 13 people’s waste – back out!
We had a huge amount of help with our food and logistics from Moenkopi Riverworks and Emily was an utter saint as she helped juggle numerous (conflicting) allergies and food dislikes. We got there in the end and for the most part ate like kings! Thanks to the huge coolers we were still eating fresh vegetables, meat, and dairy over three weeks into the trip. For me, the food highlight was eating massive rib-eye steaks under the huge overhang at Panchos Kitchen on my birthday! But honestly, the food was the best I’ve ever had on a paddling trip.
The trip
I spent a week in Las Vegas before heading out to Flagstaff to meet up with others. After a day of driving across the desert, the last thing I expected to see when we arrived in Flagstaff was snow – but there it was, in all its freezing glory! We spent the evening preparing personal gear and charging batteries and suddenly, after years of planning everything felt real!
If it had felt real the night before, the morning was a rude awakening! We drove across town from our motel to Moenkopi Riverworks, where they had almost completed loading up the trucks with our gear. I’m not sure who looked more startled – them or us!
It turns out our ambitious piles of toys, drinks, and warm things had tipped their careful planning over the edge – we were immediately presented with a decision – less beer, less toys, or an extra raft. I’m pretty sure they knew what the answer would be, as they had already started loading a fifth raft before we’d decided!
The long drive from Flagstaff up to Lee’s Ferry was a quiet one – everyone was beginning to absorb the vast landscape. I for one was beginning to wonder about the surprising amount of snow on the plateau – was it going to make things unbearably cold? Was it going to fill the Colorado with sand making it murky? Would we get a spike in river levels if the snowpack suddenly melted?
Lee’s Ferry
Arrival at Lee’s Ferry answered these things fairly quickly, where we were greeted at the launch ramp by Ranger Peggy in a short-sleeved shirt and sunglasses. It must have been 25 degrees (Celsius) and the water was crystal clear, at least for now!
Standing at Lee’s Ferry after almost 30 years of waiting, 30 years of owing almost everything to a section of river I’d never even seen, let alone paddled, I think I was beginning to realise quite how profound the next 26 days would be. I started to worry about my total lack of fitness, my weak core, how easily I got tired and whether I had enough pain relief to see me to the bottom.
Ranger Peggy is very perceptive – she picked up on this almost immediately and simultaneously assessed and reassured me, whilst going through all of our group’s paperwork with me. Before going to the canyon I had heard horror stories about US park rangers – my experience is that they are some of the most helpful, professional, and supportive people I have ever met.
Once we had finished rigging our rafts, we made the short float to the Lee’s Ferry camping area, where we pitched up camp for the evening and dealt with minor issues like forgotten gear (FRENCHIE FORGOT HIS DRYSUIT, FRENCHIE FORGOT HIS DRYSUIT, FRENCHIE FORGOT HIS DRYSUIT:-).
The morning dawned cold! There was a hard frost on all our tents and it definitely wasn’t tee-shirt weather. We loaded up camp and awaited the arrival of Peggy to go through our river orientation. Before we knew it we were breaking out into the Colorado and heading towards Lake Mead and after just a few miles we had been swept under the Navajo bridges with the rapidly rising walls of marble canyon all around us.
I’ll never forget the feeling I got as I passed under the bridges – it was the first moment it felt like we were truly in the canyon, and as if on cue, two condors took to flight, cruising over the river above us like a welcoming party. We knew bad weather was on the way, but for now the sky was deep blue, the afternoon sunshine was warm and everyone was relaxing into this very special place.
The rapids
Weirdly, the white water takes a backseat to the experience (I never thought I’d say that), there are still some pretty special rapids and features though! Highlights for me: Hermit and its super fun wave train, plugging the big hole in crystal (and not flipping the raft) and the last day of rapids (below Diamond Creek), which seemed to have more fun waves than the rest of the river put together.
Duties
That evening we made camp at Soap Creek. We split into three groups and set up a schedule to alternate between groover and campfire duty, kitchen duty, washing up duty and a day off!
It took about a week to get used to the daily routine of unloading all the gear from the rafts, pitching tents, setting up kitchen, and doing our daily chores – but it worked well, and I think it’s testament to the awesome group of people I went with that it went without many issues or drama!
By the time we reached Phantom Ranch on the 30th December, most of us had got used to the isolation – we’d only seen a handful of people since launch. We’d all been looking forward to stepping back into the ‘real-world’ but the reality (for me at least) was slightly overwhelming. Dozens of people milling about, a small shop and the opportunity to send postcards to friends and family were welcome, but I was glad to get back to the river and leave the crowds behind once again.
Phantom Ranch also marked an important point for me personally – it was my contingency point in terms of my health. The place I would walk out if the reality of paddling the canyon was too much. It probably would have been too, apart from the incredible people I went with – everyone on the trip had helped bridge the gap left by my lack of strength and stamina by this point, but especially Jerrod who led the lion share of the organisation, and Sam who had piloted the raft we shared through almost every rapid up to this point. Their support gave me the confidence to carry on, to realise a life-long dream and the opportunity to remember why I love boating so much.
A blur
The next 14 days are a bit of a blur to be honest, they seemed to pass by quicker than the first week did. We settled into a steady routine, learned to just go with the flow, and to absorb the incredible views, wildlife, and rapids!
Before we knew it we were at Tequila Beach, below Lava! With the bulk of the big rapids behind us every last wave counted – we played our way to Diamond Creek and just beyond this had our last unique canyon challenge – a night float to Pierce Ferry.
The night float was a surreal experience – sub-zero temps, fog and mist, and constantly crumbling sand cliffs kept you on your toes and made sleep hard. The threat of beaching on sandbars and the thought of missing the take out and getting swept into the Pierce Ferry Rapid added to this and ensured most stayed awake for a good portion of the night, which thankfully allowed us to see an incredible view of the Starlink satellites over the canyon. Of course, not knowing what they were made it way more interesting!
By Dawn we were derigging at the boat ramp, and it didn’t seem like long before we were back on the road to Flagstaff – back to the hustle and bustle of the real world, utter sensory overload, and the harsh reality that those alien spaceship thingies we saw, were actually broadband satellites, meaning the next time many of us step foot in the canyon, it’ll be with wifi…
The wildlife…
You are definitely not on your own! From the ever-present canyon mice, to the bighorn sheep, ringtailed cats, mule deer, condors, eagles, and herons. For me the first day Condor viewing was a standout, but the whole experience was incredible nature-wise.
