Rafting the Colorado River in the Grand Canyon
Just before you board a raft to float down the Colorado River inside the Grand Canyon, they tell you something important: There is no going back. Once the raft leaves the shore, you will spend six nights on the river with virtually no escape. This is true for everyone starting the journey from the northern entrance. We were ready.
My nephew Casey organized the trip, which he had completed two years prior with his wife. This time, it was a family affair, with me, my two brothers, Randy and David, and Casey’s brother Josh. All five of us piled into the raft, known as a “J-rig”, along with nine other people we’d be stuck with for a week.
Logistics
Western River Expeditions has been operating in the Canyon since the 1960s and specializes in “motored” trips that go faster than the river’s flow. A 30hp motor pushes the J-rigs along at about twice the pace of an “oared boat”. We were part of a two-boat group that included two drivers and two “swampers” who served as tour guides, cooks, and everything in between.
As rafting trips go, ours was quite luxurious. The team provided three meals a day, with breakfast and dinner being hot and usually impressive for river faire. The company provided each of us with a sleeping bag, tarp, cot, and an optional tent for two.
Our schedule tracked the sun, waking at dawn and sleeping just after sunset. The temperatures were in the upper nineties in the day and 80s at night, with a few showers and a major storm. As with most trips, ours included two “groovers,” portable toilets that seal tightly and are carried with us. The term “groover” comes from the practice of sitting on ammo boxes that leave grooves on your legs. Most people pee in the river, which is encouraged.
Most camps are on sandbars at the river’s edge, which change over time as the river floods. The entire experience is very sandy, but the sand is fine, almost like talcum powder.
The J-rigs are impressive boats that have been the same since the 60s. Five pontoons are lashed together and carry metal boxes on metal panels that store everything for the trip. It’s all very analog, aside from the motor. No refrigeration, no electricity, no lights. They keep the food cold with blocks of ice. Beer, which was consumed daily, could be cooled by dragging it in a bag in the 50°F water.
Each boat carries two extra motors in case one fails due to a malfunction or hitting a rock. On the third day, the second boat hit a rock that sounded like a loud metal bang echoing through the canyon. The motor came off the back of the boat and was caught by a safety net.
Over about 45 minutes, they retrieved the broken motor and replaced it. Later, the trip leader gave two motors to another operation that had lost multiple. The guides all look out for one another.
The Experience
The scenery in the Grand Canyon is impossible to capture in words or photos. From the very start, you are surrounded by vertical walls that reach thousands of feet into the sky. Part of the experience is the amazing consistency. A single mile out of the canyon would be a world-class attraction. On the river, the attraction goes for 188 miles. All day, every day, you are surrounded by soaring cliffs and fascinating rock formations. The enormity is nearly unfathomable.
What struck me was the untouched nature of the experience. The Grand Canyon, with a few exceptions, is untouched by man. Even the level of the river has been consistent for thousands of years. On the entire journey, there are only a handful of bridges across the Colorado, in part because the canyon is surrounded by desert. You might hike out and find you’re many miles from civilization or water.
The Grand Canyon is a geologist’s dream. Unlike most large rock formations, the rock layers are in order, with the oldest on the bottom and the newest on the top. There were sections of the trip where we could see rocks over a billion years old, formed at the bottom of an ocean where the canyon is today. I loved seeing the smooth blackness of Vishnu Schist, a “basement rock” among the oldest on earth.
Our swamper, Paco, like all swampers, knows every rapid and historical fact about the river. Most stories were about the first people to navigate the river and attempts to make it a tourist attraction. These stories often ended in death, or hiking ten or more miles out of the canyon.
As with our trip, once these brave souls took on the river, the only way out was through. I can’t imagine what it took to be among the first, never knowing what was around the next bend, all in wooden boats. John Wesley Powell was the first to navigate the canyon on behalf of the US government in 1869.
The canyon is the ancestral home of native Americans, including the Anasazi, Navajo, and Hopi tribes, who consider it sacred. The tribes work with the National Park Service to outline what visitors can access. On short excursions, we saw 1000-year-old pottery and dwellings that existed when the canyon was greener and wetter.
The River
The Colorado River in the Grand Canyon is managed by a dam at Lake Powell, which is currently at 33% of capacity thanks to continued drought conditions in the desert Southwest. If this decline continues, the Colorado could see lower water levels that make rafting trips impossible, and impact electrical infrastructure for a large portion of the American West.
The water of the Colorado flows from the bottom of the dam, where the water is about 50°F, making rafting a refreshing experience. You are encouraged to bring rain suits to help you deal with cold mornings and cold water. Sometimes they helped, but most people just got wet.
The first major tributary, the Little Colorado, was dark red thanks to flash flooding and changed the Colorado to a milky brown thereafter. Unlike most rivers, the Colorado is “losing.” This means that it does not grow as it progresses to the sea. In fact, it no longer reaches the sea at all.
But for our trip, it flowed with power. When water levels fall, the rocks in the river get closer to the surface and create even more treacherous rapids. Thanks to the navigability, flexibility, and size of the J-rigs, we faced each rapid head-on, right through the guts of the largest waves.
There are three locations to be on the boat to experience the river: straddling the pontoons in front, on a front-facing storage box in the middle, and on pads in the back. Being on the pontoons guaranteed being drenched by the rapids. It felt like riding a bull sometimes, with your hands holding ropes on the front and back to prevent you from being bucked into the river.
Each day saw 2-3 rapids that were big enough to soak nearly everyone.
There is no paddling on this trip; you just hang on. No one on our trip required rescue. J-rigs have flipped in the past, but it is very rare.
Some of the most memorable sections of the trip involved hikes into slot canyons, caves, and waterfalls that form oases deep in the canyon walls. One of the most impressive was Red Wall Cavern, a huge cave carved by the river. The enormity cannot be captured in photos.
Other places, like Deer Park Falls, feel almost surreal, as if they were made up in a Hollywood studio.
The Canyon has multiple slot canyons that snake back into the valleys.
Havasu is another, but our visit was thwarted by flash flooding. It felt ironic that parts of the trip were impacted by too much rain… in the desert.
On the river and through the excursions, you are reminded that people are often injured on these trips. Broken arms and legs are most common, along with cardiac, allergic, or nutritional issues. A person in another tour group required a helicopter medevac near us.
There are hikes along narrow cliff edges where a slip could lead to certain death. For our group, everything felt safe and well-managed. No one had any medical issues.
My Experience
This was a top-three trip for me. It vastly exceeded my expectations in terms of natural beauty and the overall experience. Despite being a luxurious version of the trip, it had plenty of adventure and a lifestyle that felt a bit challenging at times.
My nephews and I decided to forgo the tents and sleep all six nights under the stars. This comes with the risk that storms will appear overnight, and this happened twice. In both cases, we put our clothes and supplies in a big dry bag and individually covered ourselves with a tarp. I’ll never forget feeling warm and dry under the tarp as rain beat on its exterior less than an inch from my face. This approach has some drawbacks. Eventually, water condenses inside the tarp, and rain gets in from the sides, especially if the wind blows. Both nights, I felt cold rainwater flowing into my sleeping bag and reaching my feet and neck.
The issue, of course, is having a wet sleeping bag thereafter. It feels disconcerting to stuff the damp bag into the dry bag for transport. Thankfully, camps include rocks that bake in the sun each afternoon and dry anything you need in minutes. Again, rain in the desert. Who knew?
Even on clear, moonlit nights, I went to bed thinking about how different these nights were compared to home. With no covers, I lay on the cot as sweat pooled on my neck and moistened my shirt collar. Wiping it away reminded me that my skin was constantly covered in sunscreen and fine sand. We bathed often in the river, but the water was dark and left a residue on everything. Yet, I still slept quite well.
We were told to bring a small duffel (24″ long) that weighs less than twenty pounds. They recommended inflatable pillows, and I found two in our backpacking supplies at home. Both of my pillows developed leaks by the second night. So, I added mine and Casey’s puffy jackets to a grocery bag and wrapped them in my long underwear, which served as my pillow for most of the trip.
Despite the pillow, sand, sunscreen, and rain, I woke each day feeling rested and ready to go. It’s funny how easily we can adapt for short periods.
This trip represents the longest I’ve ever been completely unavailable and off the internet since it was invented: 6 days. I didn’t miss it. The impossibility of connection kept my mind from wandering. Part of the experience is checking out and not looking back. We joked about the possibility of returning to a new world, with new leaders.
As it turned out, we had an internet connection all along. The guides recently added Starlink, partly because guests had started bringing their own on the trips. On the final day, the lead guide announced that he would make an internet connection available for an hour so people could FaceTime family from the Grand Canyon. My family decided, as a group, not to engage. We wanted the offline feel to remain.
The guides did not always welcome the presence of Starlink. It’s handy and a great resource for safety, but it changes the dynamic. As a small indication, the password for the Starlink seemed to send a message. It was “worseworld” as if a new world of wifi was worse than the existing one. I concurred.
Guides
I’m always fascinated by the people guiding trips like ours. They often have a deep passion for the place and a dedication to show it to others. Our trip leader was Wiley, the most experienced of the group. This was his 300th down the Grand Canyon and 12th trip this summer. I can’t imagine spending 12 one-week trips, back-to-back, with only a day in between. He loves it and says he’ll be back next summer.
The rest of the crew were “all stars” who came out to do this trip. The other driver was Lindsey, with two kids at home and a wealth of experience and knowledge. I enjoyed walking with her through the hiking trails and having her describe the flora and fauna.
Our swamper was Paco, a young guide who currently lives in Idaho. This was her 40th trip. A mix of knowledge and charisma made it fun to have Paco with us, always ready to laugh.
The second swamper was Makia (I’m not sure about the spelling; it’s not Hawaiian). Makai was quieter than the others, but had experience as a member of the park’s search and rescue team. He’s spent his life doing death-defying extreme sports and has stories to tell.
Every guide on the trip was constantly working. If they weren’t guiding, they were setting up a meal or breaking it down. Each day, Paco carried the groovers, full of material, from some far-flung location to the boat. I know it becomes a lifestyle after a while, but I couldn’t imagine doing it for long periods in the desert heat.
The Exit
At the end of our trip, the only way out was via a seven-minute helicopter to a nearby cattle ranch called Bar Ten. The ranch covers 250,000 acres and has an airstrip for catching a plane back to civilization. The guides described the ranchers as “real world cowboys,” which was true.
Overall
This is a bucket-list trip that truly delivers. To be able to do it with my family made it even more special.
I write books and run a company called Common Craft. I recently moved from Seattle to a rural island. Here, I write about online business, book publishing, modern home construction, and occasionally, dumb jokes. 
