They slowly drifted down the river away from the launch ramp at Lee’s Ferry – drifting sideways, mostly; Nanci explained that much of the trip would be done that way, to be able to move back and forth across the river to stay in the fastest current. She’d go through the rapids facing them, which meant stern first, and would only be rowing in the normal position if they were bucking a strong upstream wind.

Sarah sat on top of the gear pile next to one of the customers, just taking everything in. This wasn’t even a warm-up to what she knew was to come, but everything was new to her anyway. She listened to Nanci talking about the trace of the old road to the ferry crossing over on the far side of the river, and a little bit of the story behind it, but mostly her eyes were swiveling around looking at the already-wild scenery.

They weren’t even out of sight of the launch ramp yet, where she could see Crystal and Dan standing watching them drift out of sight. That had to be hard for them, she knew, but each of them had made many trips down the river, so it was mostly being separated from their loved ones that made it hard. She knew what that felt like – she’d felt very separated from her parents since their last meeting right after the Christmas holidays. As far as she knew they were at their mission station, but there had been no word. She hoped they missed her as much as she missed them, but it had been their decision, not hers.

“We’ve got a little rapids coming up, folks,” Nanci said shortly. “It’s called Paria Riffle, and it’s really not much of a rapids, but it’s a good place to practice getting down and in.”

Sarah joined the other customers in finding seats lower down in the raft. She didn’t have a good view of the oncoming rapids, but she could hear it coming. “All right, here we go,” Nanci said, and a moment later the raft’s nose went down, then bucked back up over a back roller several times before the motion damped down. A few drops of water splashed on board, but nothing much. “We’ll be seeing a lot worse than that before we’re done with the trip,” Nanci told everybody. “But it’s part of what we came here for.”

They drifted onward, then around a bend, and soon the launch and campground were out of sight. Sarah and the others climbed back to their seats higher on the raft, looking to see what was coming next.

Eventually they swept around a bend, and Sarah could see Kevin on the lead raft pulling in to a sandbar along the right-hand shore. “I’ll handle the landing this time,” Nanci said. “But Sarah, watch what I’m doing because you should plan on doing it on whatever raft you’re riding. That goes for the rest of you, too. Your boatman will appreciate it, and we’ll be landing in some spots where your boatman will need the help.” She began to maneuver for a landing, but after a moment she got up, partly uncoiled the bow line, then turned, gave the oars a few strokes to push them toward the shoreline next to Brett’s raft, and got set to jump out. As the bow touched the shore, she scrambled up over the front of the raft, line in hand, and ran the line up to a small tree.

Soon, all five of the rafts were nosed into shore, with lines run up to nearby tamarisk trees to hold them there. “Good place for a break,” Nanci told everyone on her raft. “We usually stop here for lunch. That’s usually enough to let people get a feeling for what’s happening, so you’ll be a little better prepared to understand the stuff you need to know. We’ve come a little less than half of what we’ll probably do today.”

People began to stand up and clamber off the rafts to join the few already on shore. Angie began to untie the tarp on her raft, and a couple of other boatmen went over to help her unload a table, a couple of boxes and a cooler. Sarah went over to see what she could do to help, but Nanci told her to pay attention to Preach right now instead.

“This is probably a good place to explain something,” Preach told them. “This is a desert, and the environment is fragile. If you have to urinate, you might have noticed there aren’t any bathrooms around here, so the Park Service rule is that you do it in the river. The basic rule is easy to remember – men upriver, women down. Just like your pants. There’s a little room to spread out here, but there may not be at some places we stop, so if everybody will just kind of turn their backs and extend a little courtesy, it’ll work out.”

Nanci could see Sarah get a little red in the face at the announcement. She’d been warned, after all, but the warning and the reality were two different things. It was something she’d have to get used to; they were on their way, like it or not.

As Angie and the other boatmen pulled bread and chips and lunchmeat from the food boxes, Preach continued his orientation, including things like the fact that while cooking and wash water came from the river, it was always boiled or filtered before use. He warned people against sunburns since they happened easily and were no fun to live with when out on the river day after day, and told people to keep an eye on each other to see if they were burning.

He also explained that, since the air was very dry, there was a very real danger of dehydration, especially on hot days. “Drink lots,” he said. “We have plenty of water with us, we have lots of sodas, and I know several of you brought some beer. Mostly that stuff rides in the bottom of the raft, but each day we’ll hang some over the side in drag bags to keep it cool. There is no reason to go thirsty, and it’s dangerous if you do.”

By the time Preach had finished his orientation – he said there would be more when they got into camp – lunch was all laid out and ready to go. The boatmen let the customers have the first crack at the food, but soon everyone had a sandwich and chips, a can of pop, and some cookies, and most were looking for some place to stand or sit and eat. Some people used the river, both upstream and down, and after a while Sarah helped the boatmen reload Angie’s raft. People began to drift back to the rafts for the next part of the journey.

Back on the river, the Canyon walls were higher now, and closer together. As they drifted along Nanci explained that, technically speaking, this was Marble Canyon and the actual Grand Canyon was still several days away; at least according to some, it didn’t start until the Little Colorado, nearly sixty miles ahead. But some of the most awesome sights of the trip would be in that first couple of days, where the Canyon was narrow and vertical, the red walls towering high overhead.

A little later they swept around a bend to see the twin silver arches of Navajo Bridge in the distance downstream. “Except for a little bit down near Phantom Ranch and airplanes flying overhead, that’ll be the last we’ll see of civilization for two weeks,” Nanci smiled. “This is still one of the wild places of the earth, and we try to keep it that way.”

She was silent for a moment before she added, “Actually, I think Preach, Kevin, and I are almost as happy to see planes overhead as we are to not see them. We were on a trip a few years ago when we didn’t see any planes for days, and to be honest we didn’t think about it too much. But then, we found out about 9/11 and the World Trade Center days after it happened. At least seeing planes tells us that nothing too terrible has happened in the outside world, but that’s about all the news we’ll get for the next couple of weeks.”

They drew perceptibly closer to the bridge as the current carried them along, Nanci moving the raft with oar strokes to the side of the river with the strongest current. Before long, the bridge was high overhead. There were actually two bridges, nearly twins; the downstream one was a little wider and much newer; the older bridge a few yards upstream was now just used as a footbridge. They could see a handful of people looking down from the railing, probably some of them wishing they were down in the rafts, heading out for over two weeks of beauty and adventure.

They drifted onward for another hour, usually in moderately fast water, occasionally going through riffles or small rapids. “Badger Rapids isn’t far ahead,” Nanci told her passengers. “We usually stop at one of the camps just below it unless there’s someone already there, and there shouldn’t be today. This is a down and in folks, and get the drag bags in before you get down.”

There was a little confusion getting resituated, but soon everyone was in position. Not far ahead, there was a low rumble. Sarah could look downstream and see the river drop away, with white water rearing up beyond the lip of the drop. There were other rafts ahead of hers, drifting sideways, and one by one she could see the boatman take a couple of big strokes to turn the raft endways before it nosed down and disappeared over the drop, only to rise up on the big standing wave behind it.

Their raft drifted up close to the lip, and like the others, Nanci gave a couple strokes to straighten it out just before it plunged down the drop. The raft slid down a slick tongue of water and dropped into the roar. Waves built in front of them and to the side. They rode smoothly over the first, only to have the next crash over the nose of the raft. Some water washed through, not a lot, nothing to be concerned about, she thought – it’d drain right out of this self-bailing raft. The raft bucked and twisted as it rode over the top of the wave, and on over the next one, not taking as much water. She noticed the other rafts pulling in to a beach ahead, and she began to pull to the side, where there was some flat water.

A couple minutes later the raft was pulled up on shore along with the others. “Well, let’s get unloaded and started on the orientation.” Preach said as he stood in front of the rafts nosed into the bank.

“OK, folks, looks like this is home for the night,” he told them. “There’s a nice hike out of here up that side canyon, it takes us up to a nice overlook of the camp and the river. It’s iffy enough that we want to do it before it gets dark, but we’ll have some time before supper to go take a look. What we’re going to do in the next hour is pretty much how it’ll be handled every night on the trip, so I’m going to take you through it step by step, and cover a few other things along the way. First thing, we’ll get the rafts unloaded. Then we’ll take you through the rest of the orientation about setting up camp, and some of the other stuff. Now, the way we’re going to unload is to start at the first raft, and we’ll all form a line and hand stuff up, hand to hand. We call that a duffel line, and it goes better if everybody pitches in. Each boatman is responsible for unloading his own raft, since some stuff stays on board and much doesn’t. So the boatmen will start getting the tarps off while everybody else gets out and stretches their legs and we get the line set up.”

In a few minutes, the duffel line was under way. There was a lot of gear to pass up. In addition to everyone’s day bag, which held little items that would be needed during the day, there was the night bag that was stowed under the tarps. That was bigger and held spare clothing and the like. There was a camp bag, bigger yet, that held a sleeping pad and sleeping bag, a ground cloth, and other items. There were four tent bags scattered around the boats, holding four tents each. There was a pile of kitchen gear, some loose, some large items like folding tables, and some in boxes that had been stored under the gear pile. With everybody working together, it didn’t take long for the gear to be piled in scattered heaps along the shore.

“As soon as we’re done here,” Preach explained, “we’ll set up the portable toilet and the hand-wash system somewhere out of sight of the regular camp. Angie, I’m going to ask you to show Sarah how to do it, and that’s going to be one of her responsibilities for the rest of the trip. Folks, I’m sure Sarah will appreciate it if you lend her a hand when she puts it up and takes it down. Now, to most of us a toilet is a toilet, but here on the river we sometimes call the whole arrangement a ‘groover.’ I’m told that when it first became a requirement to carry solid wastes out, people used an old Army ammo box, and it would put two grooves in your butt when you went to use it. We don’t use them anymore but the term has stuck. The container below the seat is called the “rocket box” and don’t ask me why, I don’t know, and no one has never been able to explain it to me.”

Preach went on to explain camping procedures. Usually, people just spread out their sleeping gear where they felt like it, but he pointed out that it usually wasn’t a good idea to be too close to the kitchen or the groover. “Usually, it’s best if you’re not real close to the kitchen since the crew gets up and moving early because they have to wake the birds up. Also you shouldn’t be in view of the rocket box,” he explained. “Some people like to sleep down near the river, some like to be away from it a bit. You should never be real, real close to the river because the level of the river is controlled by the Glen Canyon Dam upstream, and sometimes the amount of water they release isn’t real predictable.”

“It’s your choice if you want to set up a tent or not,” he continued. “Most nights, most of us don’t bother, but if the weather is threatening, it’s probably a good idea. So just on the theory that we’re going to hit a spell of bad weather sooner or later I might as well explain a couple tricks about setting up one of these tents.” Once he’d worked his way through that demonstration, he went on to explain some of the details about setting up the individual camp gear, unrolling the self-inflating sleeping pads, and several other odds and ends.

“So go pick out a place and at least leave your camp bags there,” he said. “Then those who want to go on the hike, it’ll leave in a few minutes. Two or three of the boatmen will go with you. That’s pretty much the orientation for now, but there’s more when we get to dinner, about how we handle dishes and the like. Now folks, I do want to say that many hands make light work, so if you want to hang around camp and help with dinner and the dishes afterward, well, your boatmen will appreciate it.”

The shadows had crept down the Canyon walls by the time dinner was ready, and darkness was gathering. “We usually start meals and the day with a brief prayer, which we try to keep nondenominational,” Preach explained. “Some people appreciate it, and others don’t. If you’re one who doesn’t appreciate it, then ignore the rest of us for thirty seconds or so, if you would, please. Nanci, would you do the honors tonight?”

“Sure, Preach,” she said, then went on. “Let us pray. Dear Father, bless this food to our bodies, and watch over us as we proceed down Your Canyon. Help us keep our eyes open to the wonders You have created here, and bring us a spirit of peace and cooperation to help us on our way. This we asked in Jesus’ name, Amen.” There were several people – not all of them, by any means – who added “Amens” of their own.

Dinner was good, halibut steaks and rice, and there was plenty. Preach explained the wash lines and how the dishes were done, and they quickly went through them; a lot of the guests pitched in on the process.

“We like to have a fire most nights,” he announced. “We can’t gather driftwood, but you’ll notice there’s not much on this beach, anyway. So we’ve brought bundles of wood for each night. It’s not enough for a real big fire, and we have to have it in a fire pan we bring along, but we want a quick one tonight, anyway.”

Soon, there was a small fire blazing in the metal fire pan they’d brought with them – the ashes had to be carried out, and everybody was gathered around. “I’ve sat around a lot of campfires over the years,” Preach said. “I like to at least start things out with a little bit of order, and let the stories build from there. But before we start telling tall tales, I’m sure everyone has a lot of questions, so let’s deal with them, and they may start some stories off, anyway.”

There were three or four routine-sounding questions before someone asked an obvious one. “Preach, how did a Baptist minister wind up leading trips down the Grand Canyon?”

“That’s sort of a long story, and parts of it are a little personal,” he explained. “The short version is that several years ago I came out here to visit an old friend, Crystal, who was up at Lee’s Ferry with us when we put in. I liked the place and liked her, and decided to stay. She’s pretty tied to this place since her father owns Canyon Tours, so there was no question about her leaving. We were married later that year, and we have a little boy, seven months old. I’m still technically an unpaid associate pastor at Glen Hill Road Baptist, but I keep thinking I ought to send in a formal resignation since there’s no chance I’ll ever be back there to stay again. I still consider myself a minister in a way, it’s just that this Canyon is now my chapel.”

“That’s an interesting way to put it,” someone said.

“You’ll hear me talk about it a little every now and then,” Preach smiled. “I usually try to hold down on the religious angle, since some people don’t appreciate it very much, but I think it’s safe to tell you that I really enjoy telling people about the wonders God created down in this place. You will see evidence of His handiwork every time you open your eyes, and it affects most people in some way or another. Al Buck, the owner of Canyon Tours and my father-in-law, calls it “Canyon magic,” and I’m sure you will experience some of it in some way or another if you’re at all open to it. The grandeur of the place has something to do with that, I’m sure. It has affected all of us on the crew in one way or another, or I think it’s safe to say that none of us would be here.”

“I don’t know,” the original questioner shook his head. “I still think it’s a little strange to have a minister leading this trip.”

“Well,” Preach chuckled, “I’m not the only one on this crew.”

“What?”

“Nanci over there is the associate pastor of the Hillside Methodist Church in Flagstaff,” Preach laughed. “I happen to be ordained, and she’s normally a divinity student at Hickory Run Methodist Seminary in Kentucky, working on her ordination.”

“You’re kidding!”

“It gets worse,” Preach went on. “Sarah is also a divinity student at Hickory Run, and Kevin is an assistant lay leader at Hillside Methodist. Angie and her husband go to the Flagstaff John Wesley Fellowship, where Nanci and I fill in as a supply pastor sometimes. Sarah has done it, as well. I think Brett goes to church sometimes, too.”

“Yup,” Brett agreed laconically.

“I don’t think we’re ever going to hear Brett giving a sermon, though.”

“Nope.”

“How did all of you wind up on the same crew?” someone else asked. “Was that intentional?”

“To quote Brett,” Preach grinned, “Yup.”

“If you looked in the Canyon Tours brochure and schedule,” Nanci put in, “you’ll remember that Canyon Tours offers two Christian-oriented trips each year. This is the crew that leads those trips. Most of us are pretty serious about our religion, although we know to not be pests about it. If you want to talk religion with us in small groups or one-on-one, I’m sure that all of us are willing to do it, even Brett, although he probably won’t say much.”

“Nope.”

“So,” she went on, “if you don’t want to talk about it or hear about it, we won’t push it on you. That’s fine with me. If you do want to talk about it, let’s do it in a way where we don’t press ourselves on people who aren’t willing to hear. I realize some people think that Christians are narrow-minded and opposed to enjoying themselves, but one of the things I find important as a minister is showing others the freedom they can have and still live a Christian life.”

The fire soon burned down, and people started heading off to their sleeping bags. Nanci and Sarah settled down not far from the kitchen. “So,” Nanci asked, “how did you like your first day on the river?”

“It was pretty good. That last rapids wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. It was actually kind of fun. We’re going to see worse, aren’t we?”

“There will be some that will make Badger seem a little on the tame side,” Nanci replied. “But we’ll do all right.”

“I didn’t mind setting up the toilet,” Sarah went on. “I don’t know how much I’m going to enjoy taking it down in the morning. That’ll be kind of gross.”

“Did anyone explain to you one of the duties of a junior swamper or junior boatman?” Nanci snickered.

“Is there something you didn’t mention?”

“I guess I didn’t but maybe I didn’t want to scare you off, either. The junior swamper, or junior boatman if there’s no swamper, has to dump the rocket boxes and clean them out when we get off the trip.”

“You’re kidding!”

“No, I’m not. I had to do it my first summer on the river, and some the second year, but every boatman on the crew has done it. Angie did it the last trip. Even though she’s pretty experienced, she’s still the junior boatman. There’s a gas mask up at the office that some people use, but mostly they just grit their teeth and put up with the smell. At least there’s a shower in the shop. It’s cold, but when you get done cleaning the rocket boxes you don’t care about that.”

“You know, maybe it’s just as well that you never got around to telling me that.” Sarah sighed. “But then, considering that the alternative is Abraham Bowman, I guess I don’t mind that much.”

This work is licensed under a
Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.