Below Sockdolager, the Colorado River gets into Upper Granite Gorge, the location of some of the most spectacular scenery the Grand Canyon has to offer. It was not a place to hurry through, so they took their time. Although it was only a little farther, it probably took them twice as long to get to Grapevine Rapids than it had for them to get from Hance to Sockdolager.

Dave and Mary, the Blue Team leaders, had a soft spot for a campsite just above Grapevine, and usually tried to stop there if their schedule would permit. Duane thought they were wrong on that. Grapevine was fine if they could get in there, but if it was filled there weren’t many alternates in the next few miles, and the possibilities were considerably more marginal. As a result, Duane only headed for the camp at Grapevine if he had no other choice.

Still being prudent, the trip pulled in at the campsite to scout the rapids, which was considered to be a little easier yet than Sockdolager, so Duane had little concern about running it. Now, after Hance and Sockdolager, no one else had any concerns, either.

Just to be on the safe side once again, Duane took point with Michelle bringing up the rear. As before, he pulled out below the rapids to watch everyone else run, and there were no problems; Michelle sailed by easily, taking a hand from an oar to give him a quick wave as she passed.

Although there were more rapids to follow that morning, none were difficult enough to cause a stop for scouting, although a couple miles below Grapevine they pulled into a marginal campsite for a potty break and some snack food. While they were there, Duane took the time to tell the story of how, before his time, a boatman had fallen at that campsite while trying to free-climb, and of the desperate journey the trip had to take to get him down to Phantom Ranch, where he was helicoptered out. “According to Al,” he explained, “that taught him a lesson. It was the last trip Canyon Tours launched without a satellite telephone. We have one, but we don’t use it unless it’s a real emergency. Back when I was an assistant trip leader we had one year when various crews had to dig it out four different times for different reasons. No one has had to use one since, and we all want to keep it that way. But we still charge up the batteries before every trip, just in case.”

They were only there ten or fifteen minutes, then got back on the river to float past some of the spectacular rock formations caused by erosion of the river. It was close to two hours before they pulled into the wide rocky beach near the Bright Angel Bridge, one of the few pieces of relative civilization they would see on the trip. From that area, two trails led up to the visitor area on the South Rim. Canyon Tours trips always stopped at the spot even though they couldn’t camp there, since it was the only place crew changes could be made mid-trip, which occasionally happened. There was a mailbox and a telephone up at the ranger station at Phantom Ranch, a short distance up Bright Angel Canyon, so it made a good place to have lunch while the trip leader or assistant hiked up the quarter mile or so to check in with the office in Flagstaff.

Michelle had made the last mailbox run, the fall before, so Duane felt it was his turn. He told Michelle to make a sandwich for him, and headed up the trail. As usual there was nothing for them in the mailbox, but it had become procedure to call the office anyway. Since it was Sunday, the phone at the office automatically forwarded the call to Al at home. “So,” Al said, “how’s it going?”

“Not bad,” Duane reported. “No real incidents to report, or anything. It’s not the best group I’ve had on the river, but it’s far from being the worst one, either.”

“Strikes me you’re a little early,” Al commented.

“Yeah, well, we wound up having to stay at Hance last night, so that got us down here quicker this morning.”

“That’ll do it,” Al agreed. “Hey, it’s not all the way pinned down yet but it looks like I’m going to be sending Andy along on your next run. That’ll give Barbie a trip as an assistant, and Michelle a chance to stand down.”

“She’s not going to be real happy about being off the river,” Duane pointed out.

“Yeah, well, with luck we’ll only have to do it once or twice the whole season,” Al said. “You want unhappy, you gotta think of Crystal. She’s staying off the trip starting tomorrow. You can tell that she’s not a happy camper about it, and neither is Preach, but they’re making the best of it.”

“I can imagine,” Duane smiled. “Michelle is going to be just about as bad though, if not worse.”

“It could be worse,” Al replied. “The thing is, I can send Michelle with Crystal and Preach on their next run. That’s a short trip; they’ll be off the river the day after you, and that puts her back with you the run after. That way she doesn’t lose a trip.”

“Sounds reasonable, I guess,” Duane replied reluctantly. “She’s not going to like it, but we knew it was coming. At least it’ll give her a few days topside to spend with her folks. She hasn’t had that for a while.”

“Yeah, there’s that, too,” Al agreed. “Go ahead and tell Barbie and her about it. Like I said, it’s not a done deal yet, but we’ll know one way or the other when you guys get down to Diamond Creek. I’m not sure I’ll be there for the pickup, but I’ll tell Jeff one way or the other.”

“Good enough,” Duane told him. They talked for a couple more minutes about nothing in particular, then Duane said he had to be getting back to the boats.

He thought about the possibility of Michelle staying topside as he walked back down to the beach. No, she wouldn’t like it, and he wouldn’t either. This would be the first time since the two of them had been together that they would not be on a trip together. Barbie was fine, was a nice person, and a good teammate and raft rower – but she wasn’t Michelle. It would definitely take some of the fun out of the trip for him.

At any rate there was no point in bottling up the bad news. Lunch was dying down as he got back to the beach, and Michelle handed him a sandwich. He led her away from the group a little, and passed along the news from Al.

“I sorta expected that,” she said in a disappointed tone, but sounding a little less bummed over the news than he’d thought she would. “I got to looking at the schedule a while back. It struck me that if someone is going to be off the trip, do a run with another crew, then come back to their own crew, it about has to be when the crew behind them is scheduled for a short trip. That only happens to us twice, the next trip we do and then one in July. It could be worse.”

“Yeah, I guess I hadn’t worked it out that way,” Duane replied thoughtfully. “I guess I’m not totally clear on the schedule for the season, but I’d say you’re probably right. I’m going to miss you, though.”

“Hell, I’m going to miss you. I suppose I can survive a week and a half on the White Team. Thank God that one’s not a church trip, though.”

“I guess there’s a bright side to everything,” Duane agreed. “You have to take what you can get.”

“It could be worse,” she sighed. “I might have had to sit out a whole trip. It’s going to be hard enough to be without you for two and a half weeks as it is.”

It was getting along in the afternoon now. Since they couldn’t camp where they were for the night, they had to get back on the river and find a place downstream. Considering the day, Duane would have been tempted to stop at Horn Creek, just above the next major rapids, but given a choice he didn’t want the group to run another major rapids the first thing in the morning two days in a row. Therefore, the stop at Horn Creek a couple miles downstream was for a quick scout of the intimidating rapids, the fourth major one of the day.

Horn Creek was, in its way, the scariest drop of the day. It was rated about as bad as Hance, but it came at the boatmen pretty much in one big, steep drop. Still, once it was over with, it was done, and once again no one had any problems.

They pulled themselves together and drifted on downstream. There were several smallish sites they often used in the next few miles, and given a choice Duane would have stopped at any of them – he really preferred a site on the small side, where the party would not tend to get quite as spread out. However, each of the sites they came to was filled by one group or another, so there was no choice but to press on.

The next decent place to camp they came to was just above Granite Rapids. It was a familiar site, since most Canyon Tours trip leaders liked the place and tried to stop there if they could. It was also a big site, where there was room to spread out, not that there was anything wrong with that except for Duane’s preferences. The problem was that it was once again just above a major rapids, so it would be just like that morning at Hance – they’d have no more than gotten on the water when they’d have to take a top-ten-difficulty rapids head on. Duane was on point when they got there, and with the campsite empty and the afternoon getting on, there was no real choice but to stop. He pulled in resigned to it, and the rest of the rafts followed.

“Looks like this is home for the night,” Duane said after he pulled his raft up on shore, then helped the others make their landings. “We’ve got plenty of room here, so let’s spread out some.” He designated the locations for the rocket box and the kitchen. “We’ve got some time for a hike up Monument Creek, and it’s a pretty good one, so let’s not rush around making dinner. But let’s get the duffel lines set up and get stuff unloaded now.”

By now everyone was pretty well practiced with the routine of unloading and setting up for the night, so things went a lot more smoothly than they had gone upriver. They usually took turns leading hikes, and this time the duty went to Brett and Terry; Erika went along with them, mostly because it was apparent that she wanted to be around Terry a little more. Most of the customers went along with the three, although it seemed to Duane that some of them wouldn’t be gone the whole time.

While they were waiting, Duane and Michelle got together with Barbie and explained what Al had told him about the next trip. “Apparently it’s not a done deal yet, but he said it looks pretty solid,” Duane explained. “So to get you started on the right foot, for the rest of the trip after today you’re the acting assistant trip leader, and Michelle will just be a boatman. There’s really not much to it, and we’ll try to get you going on it so things will fall right into place on the next trip.”

“I sort of expected that this was coming,” Barbie replied. “Al told me I’d probably do a trip or two as an assistant sometime over the summer.”

“It about has to happen,” Duane said. “What with Crystal having to spend more time topside, I suspect next summer there will be a new Canyon Tours trip leader, at least part-time. In my mind, I think you’re the most qualified candidate in all of the four crews, but we’re going to want to make sure Al thinks so when the time rolls around. We’ll see how the next trip and a half goes, but I may just have you be the de facto assistant the rest of the summer. I think you’re ready for it, and I think you’ll make a good one.”

“By the way,” Michelle giggled, “even though it seems like normal Canyon Tours practice anymore, one of the duties of being an assistant trip leader is not sharing a sleeping bag with the trip leader.”

“I figured that,” Barbie shook her head, but with a grin on her face. “In a way, it’s kind of too bad. But just think about how ready he’s going to be to have the next trip over with.”

For whatever reason the hikers were gone longer than they figured, and the shadows were creeping up the Canyon walls before they returned. After a while, Duane figured that they’d better at least get started on dinner or they were going to be eating after dark. So they turned to setting up the kitchen and getting cooking under way, with the help of three or four of the customers who hadn’t gone on the hike. In the end the timing worked out pretty well; they were just getting ready to serve the meal when the group returned, having apparently had a pretty good time.

They finished up dinner and the dishes just as it was getting dim around the campsite. There was a fire again that night; they’d only missed one evening so far this run. While the group was gathered around the fire, Duane took the opportunity to do a little more orientation about what was to come. “Three big ones to come tomorrow,” he told them. “And as you probably know by now, one of them is right over my shoulder. It’ll be kind of like this morning, we’ll have to be ready for it when we get on the river since it will be first thing. In its way it’s about as difficult as Hance this morning, and we made it through there without problems, so we shouldn’t have any tomorrow morning either. Then, a couple miles downstream we’ll have Hermit, which is about as tough in its way. Then, three miles farther on is Crystal, and that’s one of the ones everyone talks about. Crystal is difficult because it goes on and on and on, but by then we’ll be warmed up for it. We’ll stop and scout all of them, like we did with the big ones this morning. After Crystal, we’ll be through most of the big ones. We’ll hit some good ones, including Lava several days downstream, but there won’t be as many each day. Depending on how the days go, there might be a day when we don’t hit a big one at all.”

“How far are we going tomorrow?” someone asked.

“I don’t know yet,” Duane explained honestly. “If everything goes well and there aren’t many problems, we’ll probably find ourselves in an area where there aren’t a lot of good sites, so it may turn into a case of just finding something available. Like today, we won’t know until we get there. So get a good night’s sleep. Tomorrow could be a long day.”

“I hear Crystal is supposed to be pretty bad,” someone else commented.

“It’s bad, no doubt about that,” Duane said. “On the other hand, it’s nowhere near as bad as it could be. Al, the company owner – you met him back at Lee’s Ferry – likes to tell about running it back in ’83, when the flow was maybe five times what it was today. He was there the day three motor rigs flipped, and they had swimmers all over the place. One of the motor rigs was Georgie White’s G-rig, which was a heck of a bunch bigger than anything you see out here today. Think three motor-rig center sections lashed side by side, running sideways. I’m told that flipping them back over was a hell of a job.”

He paused a little bit for the dramatic effect – again, this was a story that was told on most trips – then continued, “After that, the Park Service made the customers walk around the rapids, and only the boatmen got to run it. Al says that he had a pretty successful run, in that he didn’t flip, anyway. That was back before they had self-bailing rafts, and he got a raft full of water, spun around a couple times, lost an oar, and didn’t get it to shore for half a mile. And he was the most experienced boatman in the company. I think I’d have liked to have seen that, but I don’t think I’d really want to do it.”

“I’ve heard Al tell that story a lot,” Michelle grinned. “I doubt we’ll see it that high again anytime soon, but if it does get that high, I want to try it.”

“You would, Alien,” he laughed. “Of course, if you do it, that means I’d have to do it, or I’d never live it down.”

“Hell, I swam Crystal a couple different times, just for the heck of it. I mean, intentionally – I’ve never had a raft get away from me there, or had a customer get loose. Swimming it is quite a ride. I might just do it again sometime if I get the chance.”

Duane and Michelle told a few more Crystal Rapids stories – there were some good ones that had come out of that piece of water, and with the customers less nervous than they had been the night before there was no reason not to tell them. When the subject started to pall, Michelle pulled out her guitar, as she did about every other night, and sang a few songs. She was known up and down the river for bawdy, rowdy songs, but usually didn’t get into the heavy stuff unless the customers seemed to appreciate it. She’d already figured out that that kind of stuff wasn’t going to go over well with this group, so kept it fairly clean.

After a while the relatively small fire burned down to nothing. Only the last holdouts hadn’t gone to bed by then, and along about that time Duane and Michelle decided to hit the hay themselves. Given the spread-out nature of the site, once again they were well away from anyone else, but they kept quiet for good reason anyway. While they were just whispering back and forth afterwards, Duane said, “I can’t help but wonder if you’re thinking about swimming Crystal again if you’re an extra boatman with Crystal and Preach next trip.”

“That was just about the first thing I thought of,” she replied, the grin evident in her voice. “I mean, I ought to have some reward for having to do the next trip like that. I think I’ll pack my wet suit, but I just might decide to try it in a bikini anyway.”

“I have to admit,” he laughed quietly. “That is a sight I’d like to see.”

“You just like seeing me in a bikini under any circumstances,” she laughed back.

“Got that right,” he grinned. “You can do more for two ounces of thin Spandex than any other woman I’ve ever met.”

“You’re telling me you’re ready to go again, aren’t you?”

“Of course I am. You think I’m crazy or something? God, I love you, Alien.”

“I love you too, Icewater, and it’s going to be hell getting through the next trip without you.”

As always, they were up with the rest of the crew getting breakfast going well before dawn the next morning. As the customers started to stir and sip at their strong river coffee, it was pretty evident that no one was anywhere near as nervous as they had been the previous morning – the experience with Hance had made quite a bit of difference.

Breakfast was good – it always was pretty good – and there were more appetites visible than there had been the morning before. That included Michelle; Duane noticed that she had about a normal sized plate for her, and she wasn’t being reluctant about eating it. When he got the chance to be a little more alone with her, he commented, “You’re feeling better this morning, I take it?”

“Yeah, pretty much,” she replied. “My stomach is still a little rocky, so maybe I haven’t quite gotten over this bug yet, whatever it is. I’m hoping eating good will help it settle down.”

“Me, too,” he agreed. “I was a little worried about you yesterday, you know.”

“Oh, there’s no need to be worried,” she smiled. “Whatever it is, it can’t be anything much. I felt pretty good all day yesterday; it was just the little bit when we first got on the river. It can’t be anything to worry about.”

By now the group was a little more efficient about tearing down and packing up. Once again they had the rafts loaded and prepared for rough water right at the beginning, and once again Duane and Michelle inspected everyone’s rafts, including each other’s. No problems were found, and Duane finally said, “Well, I guess there’s nothing left to do but do it. Same thing as yesterday, folks. Hang on and enjoy the ride. Give everyone a little spacing; we don’t want two rafts in the heavy stuff at the same time. Alien, for one reason or other I wound up taking point in all the big ones yesterday. Why don’t we let Barbie take point for this one? You can go second or something.”

“Sure, no problem,” she smiled. “You’re taking sweep, right?”

“Might as well. You ready?”

“Sure, Icewater, let’s do it to it.”

“All right, here you go,” Duane said. He helped Barbie get going, then coiled up Michelle’s bow line, hanked it up, slid it under a strap on the raft, then bent over and gave a mighty heave on the raft, which quickly floated free. Michelle picked up the oars and started to row hard for the place she wanted to be to start her run. She made it with ease, and let the raft drift a bit before making a final adjustment. As Duane stood back and watched, he saw her raft slide over the lip of the rapids, go down the smooth tongue of water, then rear back hard over the first of the standing waves below the drop. For a few moments it was a wild ride that went on as far as he could watch, before going around a slight bend.

As soon as she was out of sight, Duane had Terry’s bow line coiled up and gave him a shove onto the water. In moments he was heading down through the rapids, followed at close intervals by Brett. Then it was his turn to run; once he had the line aboard and tied down, he gave the raft a shove, scrambled to the oars and began to row.

It was one thing to watch others run the rapids, now he had to do it. There was always a moment of anticipation as he started down the tongue of smooth water. He glanced downriver; the other rafts were right side up, hanging around below the rapids, but he had no more time to study things than that since the first of the backrollers was right there and he had to concentrate on keeping the raft straight. “Hang on!” he yelled to the passengers as the raft reared high up over the first of the standing waves.

In moments the worst of it was over with; he pulled the raft out of the strongest of the current and started to work his way over to the general area where the other rafts were waiting. Now, he had a chance to look a little more closely, and couldn’t help but see that Michelle was hanging over the side of her raft, losing her breakfast once again.

To be continued . . .

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