Grand Canyon Journals - Part 16: Alive Below Lava Falls!

April 20, 2000

When I awoke, the camp was still silent, so I sat in my sleeping bag watching the sky lighten and turn all shades of red, pink and yellow. I would have taken a picture if I could have reached my camera without getting out of the comfort of the sleeping bag. But the colors faded with the rising sun and the cooks got up to start the water and so I left the comfort of my bag for the harsh desert here in the bottom of the canyon. Everyone was up early, probably due to nervousness about Lava, so after a breakfast of cherry French toast and strawberry yogurt, we shoved off.

For twenty-one miles we floated mostly calm water and small riffles and I couldn't help but imagine that Powell felt he was almost home free at this point. We stopped only once at National Canyon for a short hike and a pasta salad lunch before we eddied out above the dread Lava Falls. I scurried down to look at the rapids with everyone else and as soon as I laid my eyes upon the fury, every single one of my internal organs had this falling feeling and ended up down somewhere in the vicinity of my small toe.

(Author's Note: The italicized portion below is taken from one of my blogs in its infancy.)

The twenty-foot waves churned, crashed, sucked, boiled and ground past me from one drop to another as I stood on shore watching. The roar was deafening. My stomach was the size and consistency of a peach pit and was so far down inside me quivering in fear that I thought it might squirt out from underneath my toenail. This was the biggest rapid on the Colorado River. This was the famous Lava Falls.

My oars person for the day was Ote, a very petite lady in her later 60's, who was the “muscle” of the sixteen-foot fragile feeling wooden dory that myself and three other passengers about to throw ourselves into Lava's fury. Probably one hundred pounds fully dressed and dripping wet, I was trying to imagine her maneuvering a half ton of boat, passengers and gear and couldn't. There just wasn't any way.

So here I was looking at the white froth they were calling a rapid, thinking it looked more like a killer, and silently contemplating how quick death would come to me and whether it would come by drowning or being smashed into the boulders. The only thing that I was certain about was that my death was imminent.

Finally I couldn't stand it anymore and decided to walk back to where the boats were tied up river where I wouldn't have to contemplate my death. I met the trip leader Bronco heading back the way I had come and he asked if I was ready to go down. I put on a big smile and lied, “I can't wait!” Bronco replied, “Great, because your boat is going down first.” I think my stomach actually did squirt out from my toenail at that point.

Sitting in the front of the dory boat along with a heavyset guy from Germany, we silently drifted downstream towards the lip of Lava Falls. Beyond the lip all that I could see was leaping white froth that seemed to be waving us towards our doom like sailors to a siren. My hands were locked onto the gunnel railing and for a second, I looked at it fascinated by the how white and insignificant it looked. The boat started picking up speed as we edged over the lip and slip down the tongue towards the first wave that towered above us sickeningly. The boat climbed half way up the wave before the weight of the German and myself combined drove it into the interior of the wave.

The icy cold water took my breath away and the loud roar was abruptly dampened as I hung on and waited for the boat to punch out the backside of the wave. The water continued tossing me around like I was inside a washing machine but I continued to hang on for what seemed like an eternity. I was just about to let go and swim for freedom, certain that we had flipped over when we suddenly emerged into daylight. I gasped for breath as the boat with another half ton of water added to its weight, groaned and slid down the backside of the wave into a water trough so deep that the gates of Hades had to be nearby.

With all the additional weight, the boat didn't even pretend to go over the second and much bigger wave and just dove into the immense face. Again I hung on and contemplated life inside a washing machine while wondering if we had tipped over. But again we punched out into daylight and slid down into the trough heading for yet a third wave. Once more into the wash cycle and once more we lurched into daylight.

The wave train ahead started getting smaller and the boat full of water, passengers, gear and all was now able to lurch over them like a drunk. We were through! I wasn't going to die after all! I had survived the mother of all rapids! Wait. Through my euphoria-laced brain, I heard this scream piercing into my mind that sounded almost primeval and not of this world. I looked around searching for the source when I realized that it was coming from the German. No wait, it was also coming from the couple in back. Wait, I was yelling too! Then it hit me, we were all yelling in euphoria at having cheated death.

“Bail!” screamed a voice that trumped my own primeval screaming. I once again started searching for a source to this new sound and saw Ote straining at the oars trying to eddy us out as the boat still lurched sickeningly about full of water over waves still over six feet tall. It took a few seconds to understand that it wasn't over yet before I grabbed the bailer and started bailing the water like a man who didn't know how to swim and on a sinking ship. The other passengers quickly caught on, helped with the bailing and soon we were pulling the ashore.

Ote told us to get out while she oared back ready to help if any of the three other dories and two rafts behind us flipped over. I grabbed my camera and scrambled upstream stumbling over the sharp lava rocks, which cut my legs like razors in an attempt to get some pictures of the remaining boats coming through the rapids. One by one they safely escaped the clutches of Lava Falls and joined Ote in the pool below.

As I walked back downstream to the beach where everyone was gathering, the euphoria started to wear off and I finally noticed the blood dripping down from a half dozen wounds on my legs. I still had enough euphoria not to care so I took an offered beer, popped the top and held it up as we toasted our survival. We were ABL, alive below Lava.

When the celebrations died down, we floated on down the river to mile 185-1/2 where we made camp for the night on a huge sand bar. After the initial flurry of setting up camp or tossing my gear in a pile as was my case, we all kept talking about Lava and the nine people who would be leaving us tomorrow. Because of my journal writing, I was designated group address noter, so I walked around getting everyone's personal information so that I could send it out after everyone went back to their regular lives.

The crew mixed up some cocktails and an avocado dip to munch on while we waited for the preparation of a beef and chicken enchilada dinner complete with rice and a cake to celebrate Jorge's birthday. After supper, the traditional Lava Follies, or skit show put on by crew and clients alike, began around a roaring fire. There were poems, songs, jokes and stories told by all. Ote read a speech given by Chief Seattle that was absolutely beautiful and since everyone was curious about what I wrote in my journals, I read today's excerpt about Lava. The crew then handed out awards (chucks of lava rock), commemorating the identifiable trait of each client. I received the Harvey Butchart award for hiking every mile of every hike and then some.

After the follies, I stayed up late into the night with some of the crew swapping jokes and reveling in the day. Clouds started moving in but we were all full of sunny cheer at having cheated the river one more time and more importantly, surviving to tell about it.

(Author's Note: It's hard to take pictures that can do justice to the scale of a rapid. Because I was on the first boat through the rapids, all of my pictures are from a distance below it and you can't see much. So I surfed the Internet and came up with this picture that someone else took of a 26+ feet raft entering the first wave of Lava Falls.

Raft In Lava Falls