part six

Well as always, morning comes and with it the gloriously warm sun. Funny how the day seems to wash away the importance of a cruel night.  I drink rainwater from the puddles in the rocks. We are all anxious for nine o-clock to roll around. That is what time we expect the other river trips to start passing by. Shana and Matt shimmy along the cliff that runs alongside the Colorado, upstream to a large eddy.  For there is no eddy at the mouth of the Havasu anymore, not even a tiny one, just a monstrous current intersection. Even after six hours the water continues to thump, the creek swollen with violent velocity.  I watch as propane tanks, debris and thirty foot trees quiver and shake at the intersection before they are swallowed up by the muddy Colorado. The Colorado has also risen noticeably. There must have been other canyons that flashed last night.  But, what kind of flash flood lasts this long?.... I guess it's raining pretty hard somewhere up there on the giant plateau that drains into this watershed, Dead Horse I think its called.  Ruby stands on the hill,  higher and around the bend to flag any oncoming boats in. They all have whistles.

     Suddenly we hear an engine. It is a helicopter, the whopping sound echos of the canyons walls overpowering the sound of the river.  They buzz by us and we tap our heads in the universal OK sign. They seem to be counting us. Too bad we are on cliffs. I can't imagine them landing here. They fly off and Ruby spots a commercial raft trip on its way down. YEAH! Matt jumps off the cliff into the waiting raft.

     They give him a PFD (personal flotation device) and send him back with a backpack full of gorp and water. He ties it off using his flip line and I haul it up to some very grateful hands. Matt relays the news from the commercial rafts. Someone reported our guideless boats to the Parks service around eight o-clock last night, each trip is supplied with a satellite phone .... too bad ours is AWAL with our runaway boats. They think the boats have been corralled by another helpful group. These guys have five extra PFDs and are willing to take that many of us down river with them. They are sure other trips will follow and we will all soon be on our way downstream.  Cool, I am ready to go.  I was not looking forward to hiking back up this crazy canyon ten miles to the Havasupai village, and then another eight and a half up to the rim. My feet are twice the size they should be and my shoes are too tight, even with the adjustable straps!  Ouch.