Leading his second commercial
trip through Grand Canyon in 1940, Norm Nevills not only guided Barry
Goldwater, future Arizona senator and presidential candidate, but he also
took his wife, Doris, to help with logistics and meals. After a midday
rest and shower at Deer Creek on August 15, the trip returned to the boats
for an afternoon float toward Kanab. About a mile downstream, at 137.5-Mile
Rapid, Norm’s boat got stuck in a hole and nearly flipped. Though
the boat stayed upright, Doris and the other passenger were thrown into
the water. Norm quickly pulled his wife back into the boat, and her name
became synonymous with the energetic rapid (Crumbo, 1981). According to
Goldwater’s (1970) published account of the trip, “this small
rapid was not even indicated on the map, and surprised us greatly.”
Curiously, Norm ran the rapid two years earlier, taking botanists Elzada
Clover and Lois Jotter on the first commercial trip through Grand Canyon
(Cook, 1987). Even if neglected by the maps, surely Norm, a boatman known
for his conservative approach to river running, would have remembered
the violent little rapid below Deer Creek Falls. It turns out that Norm’s
memory was not failing; instead, he became an important part of one of
the more interesting stories of changing rapids we have yet deciphered
in Grand Canyon.
Using repeat photography, we have tracked where debris flows have or have
not occurred in 147 Grand Canyon tributaries from 1890 through 1990. To
identify changes to the river, a photograph of the tributary is required
before any changes caused by debris flows occur. Fortunately, people occasionally
take photographs of Grand Canyon. In fact, shutters are pushed so often
in some locales, Earle Spamer (1997) predicted a widespread shortage of
Grand Canyon photons due to their removal in the bodies of cameras. Deer
Creek falls is just such a place. Starting with Hillers in 1872, most
travelers packing silver halide pointed their lenses toward this lovely
waterfall. These travelers then typically put the cameras away, leaving
the next rapid, Doris, obscure and far out of the limelight. Indeed, the
reach of river below Deer Creek is flush with plentiful virgin photons.
Even Robert Brewster Stanton, the engineer who systematically photographed
the entire river corridor, ignored the rapid in favor of the upstream
and downstream views of the canyon walls. Climbing high on the debris
fan on river right, Stanton chose a composition for his downstream view
that looked beyond the tailwaves of the rapid (Webb, 1996). He did, however,
record in his diary that the rapid offered “high waves and a drop
of eight to ten feet” (Smith and Crampton, 1987). By 1923, when
the Birdseye Expedition came through surveying water surface, the rapid
at mile 137.5 was gone. Not only does the Birdseye map show an almost
negligible drop, his diaries catalogue a meager one-foot fall. Stanton’s
high waves had vanished. But our story is not yet finished.
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After we constructed a new water-surface
profile from lidar data collected in 2000, Doris Rapid, now named for
one of its first swimmers, reappeared with a respectable five to six foot
drop (Figure 1). When juxtaposed, the two water-surface profiles from
1923 and 2000 show the steep aggradation at the rapid. Perhaps the rapid
was simply washed out in 1923. Though higher stage can sometimes wash
out rapids, the discharge was not exceptionally large for the Birdseye
Expedition (around 25,000 cfs). In addition, Doris has a reputation for
getting feisty at high water (Crumbo, 1981).
As we discovered at many other locations within Grand Canyon, debris flows
can enhance or create new rapids. Comparing the water-surface profiles
in Figure 1, we see that at least one debris flow constricted Doris Rapid
between 1923 and 2000, creating the drop we see today. In addition, the
eyewitness accounts by the Nevills trips of navigational difficulty at
Doris further constrain the date of this enhancing debris flow. Hence,
we can conclude, with some certainty, that Doris Rapid aggraded between
1938 and 1940.
Though we know how rapids are formed or enhanced, how do they disappear?
Stanton’s eight to ten foot rapid was reduced to a one-foot drop
by 1923. Large mainstem floods remove debris and reduce the size or severity
of rapids. When piecing together the story of the changing character of
Doris Rapid, the timing of Colorado River floods becomes important. The
largest known flood since Stanton’s trip is 220,000 cfs, measured
at Lees Ferry in 1921. After Stanton recorded his observations of a fun
rapid at Doris in 1890, subsequent flooding removed material and effectively
removed the rapid. Thus, when Birdseye floated through the Canyon in 1923,
Doris Rapid was a small, one-foot riffle. Furthermore, because the 1921
flood was large enough to remove the rapid, we can deduce that the material
forming Doris Rapid in 1890 was not present in 1884, the year a huge flood,
estimated at 300,000 cfs, came tearing down the Colorado. Putting together
the pieces, we can deduce that at least one other debris flow occurred
at Doris Rapid between 1884 and 1890.
So the next time you’ve packed your cameras away after an extended
lunch at Deer Creek, remember the feisty little rapid about a mile or
so downstream. Basking in the shadows of its upstream, photogenic neighbor,
Doris Rapid has it all: high waves, history, cloaking ability, at least
two historic debris flows, and very little attention. Catch a photon or
two—they abound at river mile 137.5.
Chris Magirl and Bob Webb
References:
Cook, W.E., 1987, The WEN, the Botany, and the Mexican Hat: the adventures
of the first women through Grand Canyon on the Nevills Expedition: Orangevale,
Callisto Books, 151 p.
Crumbo, Kim, 1981, A river runner’s guide to the history of the
Grand Canyon: Boulder, Johnson Books, 61 p.
Goldwater, Barry M., 1970, Delightful journey—down the Green and
Colorado rivers: Tempe, Arizona Historical Foundation, 209 p.
Smith, D.L., and Crampton, C.G., 1987, The Colorado River survey: Salt
Lake City, Howe Brothers Books, 305 p.
Spamer, Earle E., 1997, The Grand Canyon—further final report, and
user’s guide: Annals of Improbable Research, vol. 3, no. 4, p. 15–18
Webb, R.H., 1996, Grand Canyon: A century of change: Tucson, University
of Arizona Press, 290 p.
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