The Changing Rapids of Grand
Canyon—
Three Rapids That Haven’t Changed
Over the last fifteen years,
our research has shown that about 59 percent of the tributaries in Grand
Canyon have had debris flows in the last century. Naturally, that leaves
41 percent that haven’t had debris flows, and the rapids at the
mouths of these canyons for the most part haven’t changed in the
last century. Here are brief descriptions of three rapids that haven’t
changed in a significant way since river runners first encountered them
in the 19th century.
Dubendorff Rapid (mile 131.8)
It was love at first sight. Julius Stone, a wealthy owner of factories
and businesses in Ohio, became infatuated with the Colorado River and
its canyons, beginning in the 1890s. He had invested in the Hoskininni
Company, a venture promoted by Robert Brewster Stanton to dredge gold
from the channel in Glen Canyon. In 1898, he met Nathaniel Galloway, legendary
boatman of the Colorado River, while visiting his investment (Reilly,
1999). At some point, Stone proposed to hire Galloway to be his guide
on a trip retracing the 1869 journey of John Wesley Powell. In spirit,
if not reality, it was the first commercial river trip.
They launched in September 1909 and wended their way through the canyons
of the upper basin, mostly without incident. Stone and Galloway had their
own boats; the third boatman was Seymour Dubendorff, a friend of Galloway’s
from Vernal, Utah, who carried Stone’s brother-in-law, Raymond Cogswell,
the trip’s photographer. On November 8, 1909, they found themselves
staring at a “bad rapid” in the middle of Grand Canyon. Galloway
had been there before, and the three boatmen chose to run while Cogswell
walked down the left side of the rapid, snapping photographs. Stone and
Galloway had good runs, but Dubendorff flipped in a wave on the far right.
After they pulled him from the water and rescued his boat, Dubendorff
uttered those immortal lines, “I’d like to try that again.
I know I can run it!” (Stone, 1932, p. 95). Thus did Dubendorff
earn its name, although it is frequently misspelled.
Maybe Dubendorff could have successfully run the rapid that now bears
his name, and if he were still alive and in Grand Canyon today, he’d
face essentially the same rocks and waves. Galloway Canyon has not produced
a debris flow since 1890, when the first full photographs of Dubendorff
were taken (Webb, 1996). The same cockscomb of rocks appears at low water
on the right side of the rapid, ending in a rock known affectionately
as “the domer” that various river runners use as a marker
for their cut to the right side. What has changed is the lower left end
of the rapid. Powell expedition photographer Jack Hillers photographed
the view looking out from Stone Creek in 1872; a match of his photograph
shows a high-angle debris flow from the chute above the left side of the
rapid deposited what has become a rock sieve at intermediate water levels
on the left. It is doubtful that this debris flow significantly affected
flow through the rapid, but it does add an additional boating hazard if
one strays too far to the left.
Horn Creek Rapid (mile
90.2)
Horn Creek Rapid has always been nasty. The Stanton expedition wrecked
a boat here in 1890 during an ill-advised ghost run (Smith and Crampton,
1989, p. 177–178). The boat, the Sweet Marie, had been arduously
repaired upstream in the middle of Grapevine Rapid, and the incident precipitated
Harry McDonald’s departure from the trip downstream at Crystal Creek.
The rock that the Sweet Marie smashed upon is a piece of schist with spikes
on its streamside face; we affectionately call this rock “the Mace
Rock,” and it is only exposed at about 5,000 cubic feet per second
(cfs) or lower.
At the end of the 19th century, an adventurer-writer, by the name of George
Wharton James was roaming the Grand Canyon region, promoting visitation.
He took many photographs himself, but he also relied on a photographer
named Frederic H. Maude to provide illustrations for his books. Both men
were frequet guests in the Canyon of W.W. Bass. At some point, Maude poised
himself on an outcrop of Tapeats Sandstone on the Tonto Platform and aimed
his camera downwards and downstream, creating a startling photograph of
Horn Creek Rapid and its sharp waves at low water. Photographs taken at
the rapid (Webb, 1996) show that most of the rocks on the debris fan are
in the same place.
Hance Rapid (mile 76.8)
Big rapids invite speculation as to their origin. The distinctive diabase
dike on the right side of Hance Rapid has led some to speculate that the
rapid owes its existence to bedrock control, not the large tributary entering
the rapid from river left. A short hike up Red Canyon will convince the
casual observer that debris flows indeed enter the Colorado River here,
just not in the last century. Because it drops thirty feet, the largest
single drop in Grand Canyon, and because of the numerous large boulders
that the river churns through, most early explorers lined or portaged
Hance. The Kolb brothers were no exception; they began to portage and
line the rapid on October 15, 1911.
The next morning, Ellsworth ran the lower left part of Hance Rapid, part
in and out of his boat. Those who don’t learn from history are bound
to repeat it, and since that left side hasn’t changed in a century,
beware the rumble run that Ellsworth pioneered.
Bob Webb
References:
James, G.W., 1900, In and around the Grand Canyon: Boston, Little, Brown,
and Company, 346 p.
Kolb, E., 1914, Through the Grand Canyon from Wyoming to Mexico: New York,
MacMillan, 344 p.
Reilly, P.T., 1999, Lee’s Ferry: Logan, Utah State University Press,
542 p.
Smith, D.L., and Crampton, C.G., 1987, The Colorado River Survey: Salt
Lake City, Howe Brothers Books, 305 p.
Stone, J.F., 1932, Canyon Country: New York, G.P. Putnam’s Sons,
442 p.
Webb, R.H., 1996, Grand Canyon, a Century of Change: Tucson, University
of Arizona Press, 290 p.
