Grand Canyon Journals - Camp Life

 Camp was always made on a big sandbar formed by the river and usually located near the mouth of a side canyon. One of the things that most amazed me was how clean the surrounds were. No trash, cigarette butts, discarded soda cans, etc., the typical stuff one finds these days when visiting a national park or 'drive-up' scenic setting. Much is this to do with the river guides who take people through the canyon. All of them love their jobs and want to preserve the beauty of the canyon. They make sure every piece of scrap, theirs or from previous groups, is picked up and hauled off. It's amazing at how I have become so accustomed to seeing litter everywhere that it is immediately noticeable when there isn't any around.

When the boats pulled into camp, there was a mad rush as the guests raced into the rocks and tamarisk to stake claim to their site with a few of their belongings. Most wanted to be near camp and wanted a place to set up a tent. I on the other hand, preferred to spend my night hours away from the sounds (snores, farts, belches, etc.) of camp and had no competition for a spot away from camp and thus was in no hurry. There were no mosquitoes in the Grand Canyon so sleeping outside was not a problem. I had rented a tent for the trip but never even set it up though I did have to take it down once. (It got set up during a rain storm while I was out hiking one afternoon so I took it down and slept outside under clearing skies when I got back.) Because I never set up a tent, I had more choices of spots. On the cooler nights, I would find patches of sand between two rocks still radiating with heat from the day. On nights where it looked like rain, I would find a patch of sand with an overhang. Due to scorpions, I left my sleeping bag rolled up until just before I hopped into it. The scorpions can sense human presence and normally stay away but when you aren't around, a sleeping bag can be very inviting.

So while everyone was racing for their camp spot, I stayed behind and helped the outfitters with unloading the boats and setting up general camp gear like the kitchen area etc. I started a fad and by the end of the trip, there would be a line of people helping to offload the boats just as soon as they had marked their turf. Once camp was established, people were free to do their own things. If there was time, there would be a short hike for anyone interested to go see a nearby sight. Sometimes the hikes were divided into several options with each option continuing on further and people not choosing that option could stay where they were or go back to camp. I loved to hike, so I went the full distance every time, which won me the Harvey Butchart award given to me by the guides near the end of the trip. Mr. Butchart was a man well known for his countless hikes and discoveries in and around the Grand Canyon. On evenings where there wasn't enough time or wasn't a prepared hike, I would seek permission of the trip leader and wander off on my own for a while searching nor nothing but peace. A lot of my most interesting stories have occurred on these wanderings by myself.

Close to Camp

When I wasn't out wandering around, I spent the evening writing in my journal, taking pictures or maintaining personal hygiene. Because of the Colorado's extremely cold temperature (46 degrees Fahrenheit), most people weren't too inclined to bathe but once every two or three days. Some of the most modest people, never bathed the entire trip but I opted for about every three days. After meals, we had campfires where wood was available. Being down in the bottom of a largely treeless canyon, wood is scarce. When we came across logjams along the river, we would collect some in a tarp and build a fire in a fireman (large metal saucer) so not to scar the rocks or sand underneath. Every evening, fire or not, there would always be discussions going on but mostly it was the guides and myself. The older age of the rest of the clients meant that they hit the sack shortly after supper was done. Any ashy remains would be tossed into the river to be flushed away along with any scotch or beer that had filtered through our systems.

Speaking of flushing, all persons were told to urinate in the river, preferably downstream of camp. Due to the arid climate and only a select number of campsites, this is the only way to avoid having all the camps smell like a litter box. For solid matter, a large metal ammo box with a toilet seat attached was furnished out of visual sight of camp (if possible) and with a nice scenic view of the river or surrounding scenery. A bowl was also provided to those who had to release both liquid and solid matter or were too modest to urinate in the river. The bowl was dumped in the river the next morning and the solid waste packed up and taken out of the canyon.

Meals were extraordinary. This is largely due to two large heavily insulated coolers filled with ice and placed on the bottom of the rafts next to the cold river water. During the entire trip, I feasted on steaks, chops, chickens, shrimp, lobster, fish, cakes, breads, vegetables, fruits, crackers, chocolates, or just about anything you could desire in a restaurant. I would have gained ten pounds that month had it not been for all the extra hiking that I did in the evenings. The two camp cooks whipped up supper while the rest of us were off doing our own thing and when finished, each person washed their own utensils in a wash line. I often helped with the pots too but it wasn't required of me.

Far From Camp

I was usually awake before or with the dawn and had some time for myself that I used for reflections or writing in my journals. The guides would wake and begin preparing the boats for the day, the cooks would start cooking and the guests would take down their tents and pile their belongings on shore near the baggage rafts. Once breakfast was out of the way, the guests would immediately start jockeying for position on the boat they wanted to ride for the day. I instead, helped the guides load up the rafts and normally just took any leftover available spot. The guides mandated that you couldn't ride the same boat two days in a row, which ensured that everyone got to rotate around and meet everyone. Since most of the guests were with a spouse or a friend, they were paired up and in even numbers meaning that the few odd people out had to pair up. There was one retired bachelor and two Germans (father and son) who preferred to ride in separate boats so I spent most of my time paired with one or the other of the Germans.

Once the boats were loaded, everyone hopped in and we shoved off for the days run. We always stopped for lunch on some small sand bar and had cold lunches of sandwiches, pasta salads, watermelons, or leftovers from the night before. On some days we stopped early to spend a half-day hiking, on others we went the entire day boating and on a few, we didn't go boating at all. Rapids were exciting and quick leaving lots of time for drifting in the current and discussing everything under the sun with the rest of your boat mates and guide for the day. But occasionally silence would rule and I would drift along watching the canyon unfold and dreaming about what was around the next bend.