Working Up

by Dwayne Phillips

From June 28th through July 3rd, I had the privilege of being on a raft on the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon. This was part of a family trip “for the guys.” On a trip put together by my father-in-law Allan, his two sons, me (a son in law), my three sons, two other grandsons, one grandson-in-law, and one great grandson spent five days and five nights on the Colorado River. These blog posts are part of the story.

This was a rafting trip, so let’s finally talk about being on the raft.

The Raft as Seen from the Front

These are impressive machines. The foundation is a 40-foot raft. Somehow attached to the rubber (I think neoprene is the proper term, but rubber expresses the idea) raft is a steel floor. In the middle of that floor sits all the camping supplies (cots, chairs, kitchen, duffel bags, ice chests). This pile is covered by white tarps and held in place by straps.

Strapped to the top of the sides of the raft are large rubber tubes. These extra tubes make the raft practically impossible to capsize and sink. These tubes also provide the young and young at heart a place to straddle and ride the rapids like untamed horses.

The first first photo here was taken from the front of the raft looking back (click to enlarge). Prominent in the photo are the white tubes strapped to the tops of the sides of the raft. The people in the center of the photo are sitting on the supplies. In the photo are left to right brother-in-law #1, nephew #1, nephew-in-law, nephew #2, Andy, and Scott.

The second photo shows the Tour West rafts pulled up to the shore for a night of camping. This photo gives a different view of the base raft (light blue) and the large white tubes strapped to the raft.

We spent about six hours a day on the raft. I sat near the rear. Actually, I sat on the porta-potty all day. I liked the seat as I was facing forward. Had I been sitting on one of the large white tubes, I would have had a sore neck from turning to look forward.

The Tour West Rafts

While on the raft, we couldn’t access the majority of our possessions. They were stored in a waterproof duffel bag in the center of the raft. We did each have a bag made of clear but thick plastic. That bag was pretty much water-proof. In it I kept my camera (iPhone), Tylenol, Altoids, bandannas, sun block, aloe vera, and other such sundries. I also kept my water bottle with me. We had one ten-gallon cooler of water and one ten-gallon cooler of lemonade strapped to the front of the raft. That was a great thing to have and kept us from dehydrating.

Most of the rafting was in calm water. The Colorado is a large river – larger than I expected – and that makes for smooth water. The water was clear – another surprise. All the films I had seen of white water in the Colorado is marked with dark red, brown muddy water – the kind we have in Louisiana. The water we experienced was clear – like the water in the Bahamas (I lived in the Bahamas for two years, it was tough ;-).

Then there are the rapids. This is why many people come on this trip. They want the rush and excitement of splashing through the rapids. I won’t say that the rapids are dangerous, although they are perilous and can bring a river runner a lot of grief. It was exciting to splash through a rapid. The water was really cold. My sons and nephews had great fun being soaked by the rapids. They probably wished for more rapids; I wished for fewer rapids. The canyon provided a good balance.

Our rafts had an outboard motor. I was surprised as I expected the motor to be larger. We only went four or five miles an hour faster than the river flowed. The motor allowed for steering of the large raft. It also allowed us to not do any rowing.

No one fell into the river on accident. We all wore life jackets all the time. We did not wear helmets because the river is deep enough that the chance of hitting your head on a rock is near zero. I addressed clothing in another blog post.

Fun? Yes, it was fun to ride a raft all day. I could think of creature comforts to add to the raft, but that would probably ruin much of the experience.

by Dwayne Phillips

From June 28th through July 3rd, I had the privilege of being on a raft on the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon. This was part of a family trip “for the guys.” On a trip put together by my father-in-law Allan, his two sons, me (a son in law), my three sons, two other grandsons, one grandson-in-law, and one great grandson spent five days and five nights on the Colorado River. These blog posts are part of the story.

One of the main activities of rafting through the Grand Canyon is hiking. That didn’t make much sense to me, but that is the reality. We usually took two hikes a day inland off the river.

I wasn’t prepared for this. In my mind, I knew that we were to see streams, waterfalls, rivers, caves, and other canyons leading into the Grand Canyon. I, however, thought that these things would be right there. Step off the raft, step into the side canyon, and viola’ you were there.

I was prepared for this. I run half an hour a day some three or four days a week. I can walk horizontally great distances. I climb eight flights of stairs in the office building where I work two times a day. I can move vertically great distances.

I wasn’t prepared for this. I wore sandals so that my feet could be doused by the river and then dry quickly in the hot dry air. My sandals are some 20 years old. They are good sandals, but the tread is worn and the soles are pealing in several places. My step would slip a bit on sandy rock, and there is a lot of sandy rock in the Grand Canyon.

I was prepared for this. I was prepared for anything and everything. This was, after all, a vacation and I was ready to exert and relax and deal with just about anything.

The first hike was touted as “a mile and a quarter.”  I am a pretty good judge of distance in walking as I once walked 1,100 miles from Reston, Virginia to New Orleans, Louisiana (see the Taking a Walk blog). This hike was at least two miles horizontally and several hundred feet vertically. At the end of the trail was a small waterfall. The sun was hot (at least 100 degrees F), the terrain was rough, the trail was tiny in places, and we had people from age 8 to 75 in the group. I have to commend the Tour West crew for their efforts. They did everything they could to ensure that everyone could make the hike.

I didn’t think the hike was worth the destination. Then again, I am the type of person who anticipates the destination. Other people love the hike as the destination. The trip is the destination. What is at the end of the trip is only one step. To each his own. I learned to enjoy the trip more through the week.

Several of the hikes were described as “rock scrambles.” This meant that you were moving vertically much more than horizontally and the trail was solid rock. I liked rock scrambles. I had to concentrate on each step and the next one. Several times I had to put my left foot forward on the first step because if I put my right foot forward first, I wouldn’t be able to make the second step. The scrambles could be that challenging mentally. I hated the rock scrambles. My sandals were not suitable for the task. I turned back on a couple of the scrambles as I was slipping too much.

My favorite hike was at the Little Colorado River. The water was right there and it was beautiful. That hike had a destination – playing in the relatively warm water. Everything was just to my liking.

We did see some impressive waterfalls on the hikes. I am thankful for that. I am thankful for the experiences on the hikes. Those hikes helped me to understand why we were hiking. You see, I have to have a reason for doing something. We were hiking to get off the boat and burn some time. This was to be a five-day and five-night trip. We could have easily covered the river in four days and ruined it. We also hiked to burn some energy. I liked the hikes for the exercise. I like to exercise and, given the fine meals we were eating, I needed the exercise.

And we hiked to see the Grand Canyon. In addition to loving the river, our guides loved  the canyon. While we drifted down the river, Andy would share with Scott how he had hiked to this spot or that spot that we saw along the way. These guys love to leave the water, scramble up what appears to be an impassable canyon wall, and go inside or above or around a place in the wall that shouldn’t be there. These shouldn’t-be-there places are everywhere in the Grand Canyon. These are the nooks that the canyon has smashed between the “normal” features of the terrain. Yes, we hiked to see these shouldn’t-be-there streams, springs, caverns, and passage ways that make the canyon what is it – a wonder to visit.

by Dwayne Phillips

Life is full of interesting things. All we have to do is notice them. To do so, I have learned to keep my “notice-er” engaged. I have also learned how to keep and use the noticed things.

At a recent public gather, a friend stood to give a five-minute speech. This five-minute speech occurs at every one of these gatherings, and several of us take turns giving the speech. He began with,

Every time I am asked to speak, I find something interesting happening the week before.

I find a simple explanation to this interesting coincidence. The week of his speech, he had turned on his “notice-er.” He had paid attention to his surroundings and noticed things of interest instead of being oblivious to them.

I learned the use of the notice-er from author and consultant Jerry Weinberg a decade ago. I was attending a one-week writing workshop led by Jerry. He would send us out at our lunch break with the assignment: “notice five things.” Everyone in the workshop was able to complete the assignment every day, i.e., we each noticed 25 interesting things during the week.

Since that workshop, I have kept my notice-er turned on most days. This noticing is great when looking for topics to describe. The down side is that it is easy to have your mind over load with interesting things. Jerry supplied a technique to deal with all these interesting noticed things – the fieldstone.

I use 3×5 cards to record fieldstones (since described by Jerry in a book). I have stacks of hundreds of these cards dating back to that week of the writing workshop. I blog about two such fieldstones each week. The trouble is that I notice more than two things each week. Hence, my pile of fieldstones is growing instead of shrinking. Perhaps one day I will have the time and energy to transform these piles into a set of books.

Until then, I will keep noticing with my notice-er, keep collecting the fieldstones, and keep writing. Life is so interesting and writing is so enjoyable.

by Dwayne Phillips

From June 28th through July 3rd, I had the privilege of being on a raft on the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon. This was part of a family trip “for the guys.” On a trip put together by my father-in-law Allan, his two sons, me (a son in law), my three sons, two other grandsons, one grandson-in-law, and one great grandson spent five days and five nights on the Colorado River. These blog posts are part of the story.

I live in the busy Northern Virginia suburbs of Washington D.C. Like most suburbs of major cities, we have lots of lights. For those people who like to look at the stars, this is known as light pollution.

One of the reasons I love to visit my mother in rural southeastern Louisiana is that there are few man-made lights – little light pollution. That allows me to look at all the stars and do one of my favorite yet rarely enjoyed hobbies – viewing satellites. That is kind of odd, the man-made lights are in the way of watching man-made satellites, but that is the nature of the hobby.

The International Space Station is the easiest object to view orbiting the earth. It is so big now that only the moon is easier to see in the night sky. All you have to do is find the right time and direction to watch. This is one web site that provides that information. But that is too easy.

What I really like to do is look for other satellites. That requires almost no man-made light and a lot of patient staring into the night sky. The floor of the Grand Canyon would be a perfect place to be and stare up. But it was not that easy. Several problems:

• a couple of cloudy nights
• one raining night
• eyes worn tired by the sun of the day
• eyes worn really tired by the sun of the day

We reached Friday night, and I had not seen a satellite fly over. We gathered in the camp circle of chairs after dinner while Jake told us what was to happen on the morning that we left the river. I was tired and could barely listen. I leaned back in my chair and stared in numbness up into the night sky. There it was – small and dim, but was moving almost directly overhead from canyon wall to canyon wall.

There, just then, sitting dead tired in that circle of chairs, one of my wishes for the rafting trip was fulfilled. I saw a satellite fly over.

I smiled. In moments I was asleep in the cot.

by Dwayne Phillips

From June 28th through July 3rd, I had the privilege of being on a raft on the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon. This was part of a family trip “for the guys.” On a trip put together by my father-in-law Allan, his two sons, me (a son in law), my three sons, two other grandsons, one grandson-in-law, and one great grandson spent five days and five nights on the Colorado River. These blog posts are part of the story.

The crew from Tour West did a great job with the food on the trip. They cooked via propane tanks and charcoal briquettes. The briquettes were lit using lighter fluid. I don’t like the odor of lighter fluid. Some people probably do, but not me. Years ago we learned how to light the briquettes with a chimney-like device and newspaper – no chemical fuel.

Several mornings the crew used briquettes in the morning. I’m not sure what they cooked with charcoal for breakfast, but I know they used lighter fluid.

Morning is supposed to smell like coffee; morning is supposed to smell like bacon. Morning is not supposed to smell like lighter fluid.

Nevertheless, the morning meals were great.

by Dwayne Phillips

From June 28th through July 3rd, I had the privilege of being on a raft on the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon. This was part of a family trip “for the guys.” On a trip put together by my father-in-law Allan, his two sons, me (a son in law), my three sons, two other grandsons, one grandson-in-law, and one great grandson spent five days and five nights on the Colorado River. These blog posts are part of the story.

On the Sunday night before embarking on the river, our guide Andy told us,

Take only photographs,
Leave only footprints

I thought that was a clever way to say things and I like clever ways to say things – ways that people remember. I didn’t need the clever little saying to remember that we were not to leave anything in the canyon. For a week, we lived by the saying

leave only footprints

We ate three meals a day in our camp. We were told, “If you drop any food crumbs, pick them up and put them in our trash cans.”

We did that. We didn’t leave any potato chip crumbs; we didn’t leave any bread crumbs, and we didn’t leave any pancake or cookie crumbs. We picked up every crumb and put them in the trash.

As an aside, what surprised me was that even after we left a spotless camp, big black birds would swarm onto the beach the minute we pulled away. I hate to disappoint them, but we disappointed them every time.

This leave only footprints was heeded on the river as well. On two occasions, we slowed our raft to retrieve a floating coke bottle from the river. On another occasion we slowed the raft because we saw something that looked like floating trash. It was only a lump of foam in the river naturally.

We camped in places that other groups of rafters camped. We stopped to hike near beaches where other groups of rafters stopped. No trash anywhere. Nothing. No one left anything behind in the canyon except footprints, and I saw a lot of footprints. It takes rain to wash away footprints, and there isn’t much rain in the bottom of the canyon.

This was a surprise. The Grand Canyon is a big place. There are only several thousand people a year who see the canyon from the river. I never thought that trash left behind would be a big issue. For some reason it was a big issue and everyone picked up every little piece of trash.

Now that am I back in civilization, I take my usual walks and runs here and there. I am shocked by seeing any bit of trash on the ground. A week of absolutely nothing on the ground gave me a fresh perspective.

It is possible to leave only footprints. I wish everyone could have that experience.

by Dwayne Phillips

I have learned how to email bad emotions and their accompanying physical ailments away. It is a good technique to master.

Several years ago, I opened some shipping cases to inspect some systems that a contractor had built for us. I was disappointed, then I was upset, then furious. There were a bunch of tangled cables in the shipping cases with the systems. We had spent several million dollars for these systems, and tangled cables were not acceptable to me on that day.

My face turned red, I clenched my teeth, my veins popped out on my forehead. My blood pressure shot through roof. I did what anyone would do – I sat in front of the computer, put my hands on the keyboard, and shot a heated email to the manager of the contractor who had shipped me multi-million dollar systems complete with a set of tangled cables.

Several days later, I spoke to the manager of the contractor. My frustration had subsided as did his. We calmly discussed the tangled cables and how that would never happen again. I told him about my raised blood pressure. He admitted that his blood pressure went through the roof when he read my email. It seems that I had high blood pressure, I sent him an email, and then he had high blood pressure. Aha,

I had emailed him high blood pressure.

I had never emailed something physical to anyone before. Given this experience, I concluded that you can email almost any thing to some else – especially an emotion or a physical response related to an emotion. For example, I can email:

• anger
• love
• hate
• laughter

and going along with these, I can email:

• high blood pressure
• headache
• nausea
• back ache
• bad digestion
• and the opposite of these

Here is a solution to what ails me.

1. Create an email address at one of those free email address places
2. email bad feelings or response to that address
3. all is well

There is, however, a trick to this. I have to email away all the bad feeling. It is not good enough to email some of the bad feeling or to share the bad feeling via email. I have to email away all the bad feeling. I can’t hold onto any of it.

If I were good at this emailing away my troubles, I would learn how to do it without actually sending the email. I could just imagine that I emailed away the troubles. Maybe a few more years of practice and I’ll be able to do that. For now, I’ll use email.

by Dwayne Phillips

From June 28th through July 3rd, I had the privilege of being on a raft on the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon. This was part of a family trip “for the guys.” On a trip put together by my father-in-law Allan, his two sons, me (a son in law), my three sons, two other grandsons, one grandson-in-law, and one great grandson spent five days and five nights on the Colorado River. These blog posts are part of the story.

I was all wrong on clothes for the rafting trip. I was fortunate to have the basic items that would work. I had the impression of camping at the end of the day, bathing in the river, changing into a new set of clothes of the evening, and changing again in the morning into river clothing.

None of that worked.

The biggest killer of my plan was the cold water. I did not take a bath in the river in the evening; the water was too cold. Still, I had to deal with the hot sun in the long day.

Plan B: The water was cold and the sun would burn you. So on day 1 I wore sandals, swim trunks, a hat, a tee shirt, and a windbreaker jacket. This gave me pretty good cover from the sun and enough ventilation in the hot afternoon. The windbreaker, however, was a bit warm.

So on day 2 I switched from a windbreaker jacket to a lightweight long-sleeve shirt over the tee shirt. This was the uniform for the rest of the week: sandals, swim trunks, a hat, tee shirt, and a long-sleeve shirt. Liberal, twice-daily doses of sun block kept the bare parts of my legs, feet, and head from burning. Other members of the raft wore different combinations of the same basic outfit.

After doing this trip once, I have a recommendation. I will live dangerously and extend this recommendation to both males and females.

• swimsuit, quick dry (under everything)
• quick-dry long pants
• quick-dry long-sleeve shirt
• tee-shirt, quick dry
• hat, quick dry
• sun glasses
• sun block on all skin that is not covered

When you come to a nice warm stream, you can remove the outer garments and swim.

Please note, this was the last week of June and first week of July. I understand that some people raft the Grand Canyon in the spring and fall. In those cooler seasons, I would replace the outer shirt and pants with a rain suit for more protection from the cold water.

by Dwayne Phillips

From June 28th through July 3rd, I had the privilege of being on a raft on the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon. This was part of a family trip “for the guys.” On a trip put together by my father-in-law Allan, his two sons, me (a son in law), my three sons, two other grandsons, one grandson-in-law, and one great grandson spent five days and five nights on the Colorado River. These blog posts are part of the story.

Friday July 2nd, the afternoon – it was hot, dry, and windy. It is hot, dry, and windy every afternoon in the floor of the canyon during the summer. The sun heats the rock walls of the canyon all day. By afternoon, the heat from the rock walls rises. Something must replace that rising air, so wind blows into the canyon, usually from down river to up river.

This afternoon was the hottest of the week. That was no surprise as we had traveled some 200 miles down the river during the week. The sun burned extra hot, and the wind blew extra strong (at least 30 miles per hour) and hot. Most days the afternoon “breeze” felt like a blow dryer in your face. This afternoon it felt like a blast furnace, like the heat from the 400 degree F asphalt I worked while in college when I was much younger and far more resistant to such.

Ahead of us was an evening camped on a sandy beach. We all quickly surmised what that would be like. Strong winds while sitting on a chair in the sand. We were going to be sand blasted. This was one of those occasions when you are right no matter how hard you prayed to be wrong.

We pulled ashore at a camping spot at 6 PM. The lead river runner assured us that the wind would die down. That made sense. As the sun set, the rocks would cool, the heat rising would slow, and the hot winds would slow as well. We all knew too well that sometimes nonsense happens, so we had our doubts.

As usual, we unloaded the rafts, erected our cots, and to break the usual we didn’t unpack anything from our duffel bags. There was no use having our personal belongings coated with the blowing sand. Instead, we sat in the usual circle of chairs, drank water and lemonade, and munched on Chex mix.

The hot wind blew the sand as predicted. We sat there, munching Chex mix, speaking little, and being coated with sand.

This was miserable.

Some of us complained to one another. “Surely there was a better campsite somewhere. Why didn’t we keep going? What was wrong with the river guides? How we were to eat a supper full of sand?”

Fatigue from a week of restless nights and an afternoon of blast furnace winds conquered many in the camp.

I remember talking with brother-in-law #2 at about 7 PM. We knew we were to leave the camp site at 8 AM and would be out of the canyon an hour after that. “All we have to do,” I said in a vain attempt to reassure, “is make 13 more hours. Just 13 hours.”

The longest hour of the rafting trip stretched into two hours – two miserable hours of being covered with sand and praying for relief.

Just as the lead river runner had predicted, at 8 PM the wind subsided. It didn’t quit, but it did lessen. The sand quite blowing as well. Perhaps all the blow-able sand had been blown onto us, and perhaps the wind was no longer strong enough to blow sand. Whatever the reason, we were able to eat dinner without swallowing sand.

A good meal does wonders when you are tired. We were tired, and we had a good meal. The longest two hours were over. We still struggled through a restless night, but by 10 AM the next morning we had taken a shower and were about to fly to Las Vegas.

by Dwayne Phillips

From June 28th through July 3rd, I had the privilege of being on a raft on the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon. This was part of a family trip “for the guys.” On a trip put together by my father-in-law Allan, his two sons, me (a son in law), my three sons, two other grandsons, one grandson-in-law, and one great grandson spent five days and five nights on the Colorado River. These blog posts are part of the story.

One morning the river runners pulled the two rafts next to one another and stopped the engines. Andy, the river runner on our raft, stood and read a poem from a small paperback he had. The poem was about the Bureau of Reclamation, Floyd Dominy its director, and the Glen Canyon Dam.

People who live in the the Four Corner’s region often speak of the Glen Canyon Dam. They speak of the golden age of dam building in America in the 1960s. Some people have little good to say about dams. Some have little good to say about people in Washington D.C. deciding how people in the west should live. Other people have more good to say. Dams have shaped the economy here for the past half dozen decades.

Andy read a long poem about “the bureau boys” and Floyd and their dreams of calm water (lakes behind dams) and house boats. Then the poem turns dark or heroic depending on your point of view. The poem describes those who dream of using TNT to remove Glen Canyon Dam and create Dominy Falls.

The poem is called Floyd’s Void and was written by Vaughn Short. It is found in a book titled Raging River Lonely Trail, Tails Told by the Campfire’s Glow. I doubt you will see this book in a book store. You might see it in an outdoor supply store frequented by hikers or river runners in the Four Corner’s region. I found a copy through a used bookseller online – alibris.com.

Here are a few lines:

There’s a breed of men who sit at their desks
And they like their water tame,
They like to dam the rivers up,
Then give the lakes a name
They do
Then give the lakes a name

So give three cheers for the bureau boys
And a special rah for Floyd.
He built his dam and he built it well

…

But there’s a breed of men both hardy and few
Who lie at night on the lonely bars
And there beneath the glittering stars
They dream of TNT
They do
They dream of TNT.

…

They dream of a mighty boom and a quake.
They dream of a swirl in a vanishing lake.
They dream of a river wild and free,
Freed from its shackles by TNT
Sweet bliss
Freed from its shackles by TNT.

Now! Let’s have three cheers for the boys on the bars
Who dream their dreams ‘neath the glittering stars.
Who dream of a wild and wonderful treat –
A house boat running Dominy Falls at a million second feet
Ah yes
A house boat running Dominy Falls at a million second feet!

These lines are famous in a few circles of people who live in the region. My sons and nephews will never forget the three cheers for the bureau boys line. Perhaps they don’t appreciate the poetry, but they will share the memory.