GTS Land Session
 hat do river guides, researchers, historians and pink bunnies have to do with each other? The Guides Training Seminar (gts), of course–over the Easter weekend, March 26-27, 2005 at Hatch River Expeditions in Marble Canyon, az. What a superlative weekend it was. The weather went from windy (and I mean WINDY as only Marble Canyon can be) to wonderful. The topics ran the gamut from fish, to dam flows, the high flow experiment, landslides, amphibians, and the list goes on. The speakers were simply wonderful, exhibiting diverse backgrounds and such great depth of expertise in their fields with a few new topics this year spicing things up and providing new learning opportunities. The Whale Foundation held their second annual Health Fair, offering amazing (and free) services to everyone who attended. The food provided by Martha and Thad Stewart was positively ambrosial and was indeed their “swan song” before departing for new culinary horizons in Alaska. The party on Saturday night simply rocked to the outlaw country tunes of Flagstaff’s own “Gravy.” As one guide said, it was a surreal experience to see a guy in dreadlocks sing a Merle Haggard song! The band had such a great time that they never took a break and everyone danced until they dropped in the wee hours of the am.
And did Easter Sunday stop the festivities and learning? Of course not! Early Easter morning we were greeted by Flopsie (Pamela Mathues in floppy bunny ears), Mopsie (speaker Mike Anderson—his watch-cap jauntily festooned with a stuffed bunny on top), and Cotton Tail (Martha Clark Stewart, absolutely resplendent in a full bunny suit). “Easter baskets” were placed by the still-recumbent bodies around the Hatch parking lot and a fantastic Easter breakfast followed! The serious portion of the day had to wait until our eyes were open and our brains cleared from party-induced cobwebs, but learn we did, and the crowd for Sunday’s speakers was actually fair-sized and exceeded numbers from some past years. Fortunately, our speaker line-up for Sunday was incredibly strong, so people who stayed for the last day were richly rewarded with some top-notch science and cultural history.
It is impossible for me to pick a highlight of the weekend. Everyone who attended would have a different opinion, and indeed the diversity of topics would have been music to the ears of any canyon and river aficionado regardless of where their interests lay. One attendee commented that she was thankful to hear more about our oral history project, courtesy of Richard Quartaroli and the support of the Arizona Humanities Council. Other attendees were engaged by Geoff Carpenter’s spirited talk about reptiles and amphibians. Yet others were taken by Conor Watkins’ contagious enthusiasm for landslides in Grand Canyon, or by Matt Kaplinski’s wild ride through a virtual reality of sediment deposits. And still others commented on how interesting they found Andre Potochnik’s talk, drawing parallels between the ancestral origins of the Salt River region and Grand Canyon formations. But really, these were just the tip of the iceberg as every single speaker had some unique and fascinating information to impart. And that is perhaps what makes the gts land session so great – the diversity of talks and the amazing speakers who come to share their expertise with the guiding community and the public at large. Additionally, it is enormously gratifying (and quite rare) to learn something new while having the ability to ask questions directly of the experts. In fact, the answers to the excellent questions posed by gts attendees really added depth to the program.
And, now for the thank you’s. Obviously first and foremost, we are so grateful that Hatch River Expeditions provided us with a home for the gts once again. Thanks Ted, Steve, Sarah and Eva! Our appreciation also goes out to all the hardworking volunteers who helped get the materials to the event (and back), provided assistance with set up and take-down, and with a myriad of other small details that made the weekend come together so seamlessly. It takes time and energy, and you gave us both! And of course, Martha, Tad and Moseys Kitchen concocted absolutely delectable food, our beer was provided by Mogollon Brewery and the wonderful coffee was donated by Toucanet Coffee (if you’re interested in bulk orders of these fantastic specialty and bird friendly coffees, you simply must give Helen Yard a call at her toll-free number, 866-779-1856, or locally in Flagstaff at 779-1856). Cline Library graciously loaned us their audio/visual equipment for the event, Gravy (the band) rocked the warehouse, and the list goes on….
Lastly, this event was generously supported by the commercial river outfitters, the Grand Canyon Conservation Fund (a non-profit grant-making program established and managed by the Grand Canyon river outfitters), our new partner, the Grand Canyon Association, and Teva Sport Sandals. As we mentioned previously, the oral history presentation was also funded in part by a grant from the Arizona Humanities Council. All of our funding partners know, as we do, that education is the key to stewardship and advocacy. The Guides Training Seminar also helps bring us together as a community and carries that spirit forth into the upcoming river season. It matters not whether you’re a new guide, an old timer, an outfitter, a canyon lover, a private boater – there is something for everyone at the gts. Take a look at the letter we recently received from one of our members. You’ll see what I mean. See you next year!
Lynn Hamilton
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GTS River Session
 am not a writer, as will soon become apparent. I tend to ramble, and I tend to start every sentence with “I”. I apologize. Oops! But I had the great pleasure of leading the gts river trip this year, so here goes….
Spring has sprung, as my mom would say. Only after a good water year like this do we get to enjoy the magic of the desert in spring. Wildflowers do their thing. Life is doing its thing. Pollen and insects dust the morning light. Love is in the air, literally. It’s the finest of all seasons. Another of spring’s good qualities: longer days. The winter doldrums fade. Your general energy level increases. Another of spring’s ubiquity: Grand Canyon junkies converge on Hatchland. Oh yeah!
At the gts land session, after meeting the little intrepid group of river runners I had been charged with, I was inundated with the inevitable flood of questions, at which point I informed them of the one rule of the trip: each participant had 10 questions per half, and to use them wisely. My standard orientation is to make a bad impression, that way everything else is sunny from then on. It certainly worked here. The caliber of the people I’ve met in the Canyon, guides and customers, has always been high. These little angels were no exception.
On the way to Lees, adversity stared us in the face, with our vehicle topping out at 25 mph down Highway 89. Thanks to Gaylord for bringing us a replacement vehicle! At the ferry, I arrived wearing my “Pro-Choice: Keep Motors In Grand Canyon” pin to make a good impression on the motor contingent. A quick rig ensued, and dinner at vc (once a tradition, always a pleasure). Much protein and a few complex sugars were imbibed in preparation of much learning over 15 days in the greatest stretch of river in the world.
Next morning we did a quick historical tour, I gave a short orientation sprinkled heavily with mediocrity, a thorough safety talk, and informed my little group that safety was to come in first on this trip, and fun was to come in a close second, now let’s go. I couldn’t wait to get on the water, no one can stop the fun once you launch, and, after all, the Canyon itself is the ultimate teacher. We were there to learn.
At first nights camp, Hotnana (I know, not a very original camp for an oars guide) Roy Webb told stories of great whitewater moments with everybody from Bus Hatch to George Flavell, “Stupid Whitewater Moments with Matt Fahey” was what I had to offer, and it took a while to tell.
Next morning, low water, a scout at Houserock, a hike up Ryder, a talk on the Stanton expedition, and a quick surf session at Redneck Rapid, some Roaring 20’s, lunch and more Stanton at the H McD tree, more 20’s, scout at 24 Mile, a broken oar, wind, private at South, so on to Redwall, where my little group of river runners tried to break down my tl defenses by guilting me into camping there, but thanks to the nps river ranger, Brenton White for helping me beat back the throng of tired and weary campers, and on to Nautiloid for Carolyn’s fine cooking.
Morning 3, we took a jaunt up Nautiloid, then I traded in the paddle for a motor handle. We did a very thorough exploration of the river right side of the Marble Canyon dam site, its survey points, trails, skiffs, and tramway remains, then another geology talk up Buck Farm, and a hike to its terminus in the Redwall completed our days adventure. Camp was made at President Harding.
Morning 4, a quick stroll up the hill to say hi to Hansborough, and then a day dedicated to route finding. Only one person wanted to kill me for this one! Just wanted to make sure that it’s not really commercially viable. A hardy dozen, red-blooded Canyon junkies attained the rim up Eminence Break, at which point we encountered two usgs/gcmrc scientists running gps benchmarks co-ordinates. What serendipity! Off in the distance, Comanche point and the south rim, barely visible over the rising marble platform, Shinumo Alter close at hand, snow still thick and white on the slopes of the East Kaibab Monocline across the river, the beauty was astounding. Then as if to prove this break was a route for the ancient ones, Beav found an arrowhead with a broken tip. This was certainly crafted by skilled hands from that red Redwall chert. We camped at Saddle where Mae Franklin gave a great talk on Navajo culture, and a vegetarian ate hamburgers (seen it a hundred times).
Next day, a few hiked to the granaries, while others rested, bathed, and napped. Then we made some miles, heading to Carbon Creek for an early camp, and loop hike to Lava Chuar, where under the bent skyward Tapeats ledges at the Butte fault geologist Conor Watkins helped me finish every sentence of my layman’s geology talk. Then a stroll along the fault to Lava Chuar, which had more water then I’d seen there ever. The loop was completed by motorboat back to Carbon. Thank you, Jack—the best assistant trip leader one could ever want. We then had something for dinner and Shana Watahomigie told us some Havasupai family history, and Roy Webb told us more fascinating river stories.
Day something, we awoke under the watchful eye of Mary Jane’s tower. First we enjoyed a quick stretch before a day of earning karma points. Thanks for the yoga, Susan. Throughout Furnace Flats the brittlebush really started doing its thing in yellow on those rich, red ledges. I tried to surf the hole in Tanner that swam me a few years ago, we pulled six tires out of an eddy below Basalt, one at Rattlesnake, then an hour and a half of camelthorn eradication at Unkar, a flower walk, a pot shard talk, a scout at Hance, and a victory lunch below surrounded by yellow and red. An early camp at Grapevine, and a hike up Vishnu Canyon, thanks to Jack and four strokes, while Shane and I prepared something to soak up the revelry I could feel brewing in this well-bonded group. Upper Vishnu falls was reached, and the group ferried back for food, fun, and festivities. The day’s camelthorn was torched and illuminated those pink granite walls, where a safe but fun party unfolded and I went to bed early. The wind came up and Operation Desert Storm raged till morning. Not the party—the wind.
We all woke up with eolian sand ripples in our bags, and brushed our crunchy teeth. It was interchange day. Shane was appointed new assistant tl, and sworn in, many hugs and kisses to our hikers, and the motorboat jammed them to Phantom on Sunday’s low water. Goodbye, amigos. On our arrival, we rolled the tires to the ranger hut for a free chopper ride to the rim land fill, called loved ones, visited with the locals, then met the newbies, had orientation training, and headed down to my favorite Grand Canyon rapid, Horn Creek. A scout. It was low, almost as low as I’ve seen it. Then more wind and low water. Camp was made at Monument with a Grand Canyon Field Institute hiking trip that was generous enough to share their camp with us in return for a fireside lesson on biology and canyon history. Thanks guys!
Day whatever, the Gorge on 20k. Granite, big as usual. At Hermit, I told everybody they could cheat it if they wanted, but why? Safest flip in the canyon. Some people had never even seen a flip, so we gave them two. That’s what happens with the hey-diddle-diddle in Hermit at 20k. Everybody was all right, the boats were promptly righted, and then on to Crystal to eradicate more camelthorn. A napalm strike couldn’t get all the camelthorn there. It’s fascinating how tenacious this plant is. Two hours of digging, then safe runs all. The motorboat spotted a private at Bass camp, and jammed back upstream (those things are great! There should be one on every trip), so we camped at Slash camp, because hardly anyone else had been up and over into upper Shinumo. Most went, some had the Bright Angel shuffle, and Roy, Shane, Adam, Al, and I had a very thorough exploration of both sides of Bass’ cable crossing. Food, fire, smoldering camelthorn, Roy Webb history, Larry Stevens biology and song, and booty beers for the swimmers rounded off the day. The trip leader breathes a sigh of relief. Good day!
Walthenberg day, pack lunch, Upper Elves, camp at Blacktail. I know, tough day. They earned it. Food was served up once again, along with history, bio, geo, and song.
Middle gorge day, pack lunch, spent first half of the day in Upper Blacktail, Fred Phillips talked about the riparian restoration work he does, and showed us his handy work at the spring. New hike for me, big, drains most of the Powell Plateau. Then much whitewater fun, private scouting Bedrock, one at Galloway looking at Stone, one at Racetrack, and a single boat in the Mouth. We camp with it since its owner was nowhere to be seen.
Tapeats/Deer day, we hurried up the trail, gawked at more flowers the whole way, many Thunder virgins were awed, Surprise virgins were surprised, geologist Conor Watkins pointed out the catastrophic landslides, and a diligent group got started re-constructing the Throne Room, which was mysteriously thrown down this winter. Hmm…? Camp was established at Pancho’s Kitchen, which is a little blown out after last November’s flood flow. There was a meal of some kind, river-running history, flower identification, and midnight rain.
The Icebox lived up to its name as my hardy row-boaters rowed in the wind and rain thirty-one miles to Fern Glen. Larry Stevens and company parted our company at Havasu, where the assistant tl made the executive decision to brew up some coffee for the chilly wood-pushers. What a beautiful sight to row by the mouth with its blue lake and narrows, without pulling in, for the first time for most, and see Shane and the blaster doing their thing on the ledges below. Thanks, Shane, for helping avert a near mutiny. Except for Upset, the selfish kayakers rode on rafts or the motorboat. Alamo Arch, the lower unit, camp, more food, more stories. Good night….
Lava Day, I finally ran it without scouting and rolled for my first time in three different runs in a kayak. Hiked up to run it again. I could do better, Middendorf did. Meanwhile, a broken cotter pin allowed the prop to spin off, and afforded Conor the opportunity to make a diving leap into the Warm Spring to pull it into the eddy before imminent adventure befell. Back at the scout, much trepidation as no one wanted to run the left. Right looked big, the first group proved it for us. I wanted to run it again, charge the V-wave, and meltdown through the foam, but I ended up being a rider/high-sider instead, for the first time since maybe ’94? I volunteered to ride. Maybe I’m not such a selfish kayaker after all. Being a passenger is very exciting. I’d forgotten that. Shana had the best run of all I witnessed, and not only am glad I was a rider, I look forward to seeing her being a steward of the place for which she has cultural propriety. Toilets and kitchen were set up at Hualapai Acres. Edibles, fuego, Lava Follies, and grease bomb training. Jolly good show! Real professionals. Felt like a proud parent.
“Run-out” day, more miles, more stories, short hikes, camp at 220 to break down the side-tubes. The cook crew put on their finest bikinis and sarongs, cooked up a free-form meal, and prepared what Georgie used to call buckets of stupid. Thank you, Fred, John, and Geoff!
After 15 days of sheer pleasure leading this training trip, we arrived at Diamond Creek for the take-out. The 40 feet of fun and convenience then motored on for South Cove and a day of adventure on its own. The remaining phase in training was true takeout initiation. I told my merry band of hiking/camping funhogs I’d treat them to lunch at Delgadillo’s. His sons, John and Robert, replete with mustard string, false doorknobs, and the “Number 6, number 6 your order is not ready” call over the pa, are carrying on Juan Delgadillo’s payaso legacy.
At this point I’d like to say thanks to Lynn Hamilton for all the legwork the trip entailed, for paying for everybody’s lunch at the Snow Cap, as well as cutting the spam from this article. Thanks as well to the nps and all the outfitters for gear, but mostly for sending great people.
From beginning to end, everybody was immersed in the learning and teaching, and even those few doing their first trip had things to offer the group as a whole, explanation of hydraulics and the nuances of the holy molecule, h20, for example. Our speakers were all enthusiastic, knowledgeable, and captivating. Like a light to a moth, Larry Stevens, the bard biologist captivated us with lessons on yucca moths, pineal sheath size of Kanab Amber Snails (size matters), narrow corridor plant migrations, and regaled us with pirate ballads and his npr mega-hit, the song of the Humpback Chub. Mae Franklin told us Navajo history through her own clans, nps/Navajo relations, the hogan housing project, and invited all the Belagana to come visit her in her office. Conor Watkins, our enthusiastic Grand Canyon geologist on loan from the University of Missouri at Rolla, explained everything geo-related and enlightened us about how landsliding is one of the mechanisms that helped shape the canyon through the ages. John Middendorf, the dean of big wall climbing and fellow selfish kayaker gave an informative talk on ropes, spotting, climbing, and hiking safely in the canyon. Our gentle herp guy, Geoff Carpenter, captured, displayed, and taught all he could on every scaled critter he could catch. Fred Phillips, mi hermano, introduced us to his world of riparian restoration. And last but not least, Roy Webb’s history lessons bridged many of the gaps in the river stories we tell our people all season long. Thanks to all.
Still basking in the glow of the trip, I sit, trying to wax poetic, but it’s more like waning poetic. All the things that spring brings, came. The brittlebush yellow dominated the slopes from the lc to Diamond Creek while delicate mariposa lilies, stemless primrose, asters, Whipple Yucca, red hedgehog and pink prickly pear cactus flowers filled in the spaces. The bees, moths, and other bugs were doing their thing. We hiked, we observed, we learned from the artistic method. We laughed, I cried. And I fell in love with everybody on the trip, which I succinctly notified them of in a 15-minute ramble. Sorry. It’s amazing that you can do a trip with total strangers, and end up with 38 friends for life. On this trip, learning, safety and fun tied for first, and so did friendship.
Matt Fahey |
