An Unsolicited Commentary

   I am a recently enrolled member of Grand Canyon River Guides. I apparently qualified for a “guide” membership due to a decade or so as a guide, trip leader, area manager and general river person for an outfitter in the bad old days before an engineering degree in sewage disposal was the primary requirement for employment in the “industry”. (I realize this is a pressing issue as the outfitters continue to run a medium sized urban population through the Canyon yearly, but I have been impressed that “poop” seems to take up 1/3 of every issue. Freud would probably have something to say about this.)

   In short, I’m an old codger from the “$20-a-day-on-the-river-all-the-peanut butter-you-can-eat-after-the dudes-polish-off-the-dinner” days. When the “your job is so much fun you should be paying me” doctrine by the outfitters was de rigeur. When we ranked after illegal migrant farm workers in economic exploitation, and you had to love the life “cause you sure couldn’t make a living”.

   I retired quite a while back from commercial running to private trips and personal evolution, partly as there was little hope of a living in it and I had an impasse with the impact “the industry” was having on the places we loved.

   Regarding current discussions of continuing education and a possible “accreditation” for guides, I sympathize with the desire for some consistency - setting the highest standard, etc. - and that this might provide more leverage on the outfitters for greater respect, economic and otherwise. Also, things have changed a lot over the years and as the regulations and guidelines become tighter each year in an attempt to mitigate the impact and damage from sustained peak commercial use and comply with new demands, it’s important to have consistency, both to secure the confidence of the park service and for your own integrity as caretakers of an embattled resource. Opportunities for guides new and old to expand their knowledge and share their experiences are good, whether informally by firelight, at river side, or in seminars presided over by professional academics. It is positive to aspire to provide the best possible experience for the public. You are, to some extent, educators, or at least facilitators, to an educational experience provided by the canyons and rivers we love. Ongoing education is to be encouraged.

   It is also past time that you had some respect and economic recognition from the outfitters for your professional commitment that, for most, goes beyond “the job.” River running is for many of you a way of life–a calling–and most efforts to secure respect for that are long overdue. (Not a new issue–decades old, actually.) For those of you who are relatively new to the life and full of the vigor and enthusiasm of youth, who regard this as a career choice and the old timers who paid their dues a long time ago and made sacrifices to sustain a commitment over years, it’s time that your professional aspect be rewarded.

   In the old days, if you weren’t a college student on a summer lark, to be a professional river guide was for many to live a life that was half gypsy, half bandit. A lot of us lived in tipi’s, trucks or caves, squeaking by till the season started; or we pioneered new rivers in exotic climes on shoe string budgets. (Rivers that have since become mainstays of the international river industry.) It is reasonable that some of you might actually wish to be able to afford to live in houses, raise families and have health plans and some of the rewards of committing yourselves to a professional pursuit in an industry that has become a multimillion dollar proposition–as much as many outfitters don’t like to admit it. Obviously, establishing professional credibility is one of the issues at hand here.

   I might note that contrary to a subtle attitude I detected in your newsletter, while there was a great deal of variety in the people and approach in the boom years of interest in river running, many of us (and you) were serious professionals 20 and more years ago. We just were not respected as such. In the old days people who had a commitment and a love for the life (see also: Had to; no money in it) tended to educate themselves and expand their knowledge–from bull sessions with oldtimers at put-ins, reading and research, other sources, in order to “set the highest standard” ... “the best possible experience”. For ourselves, as well as for the clients. This is what made a good guide, and I trust it still does.

   It was an informal process, as individualized as the people drawn to the life. We didn’t all know the same things, and not everybody was a great storyteller or told the story the same way, and not everybody could play the guitar. We were all learning from each other and the river. It’s part of what made a river experience unique. Unique people.

   When I first worked in the Salmon country in the early ‘70’s, I used to sneak out of camp after dinner and trot downriver to the camps of the old style hunting and fishing guides who were raised on the rivers of Idaho. They courteously overlooked my bohemian appearance and welcomed me to their campfires. Sitting at their knees, so to speak, I heard a lot of great stories and learned things about the history, geology and flora and fauna of those mountains that I never did get from the many books I read so that I could set “the highest standard” in my work... I had the same experience in the canyon country–by firelight, as such things were meant to be passed on, the way we teach for the most part on river expeditions.

   Regarding credentials, I consider some of the teachers I had in my youth. No disrespect intended to them, many were serious country folks and may or may not have been able to read, at least at college level. I guess that means that they might not be able to pass your test. (Whose Test?) ... “The Test”...

   One of your members recently noted he’d been on some abysmal trips led by “PHD” (piled higher and deeper) trip leaders. I’m afraid I side with him. I will not say great guides are born, not made. They evolve, according to their natures, and hopefully they are still individuals because the most important element to a high quality commercial river experience is the quality of the guides.

   There will never be a park service endorsed and approved, guide’s association stamped and required college course, mandatory test or credential that of itself produces a high quality river guide.

   What I remember is: river guides were a varied tribe–crimson-necked, born with Coconino hued water in their veins, lapsed Sierra Clubbers, idealistic whipper-snappers with egos to match, old timers with a pre-cambrian wisdom in their eyes and a sardonic grin on their faces, eco-freaks of varied disciplines, academics in pursuit of a thesis who ended up following a muse, Vietnam vets in quest of some peace and wide open silence to get the ringing out of their ears and restore some of their faith in God’s Creation, if not God and country, militant feminists with biceps of steel, dutiful country wives with same, the mild-mannered and clean-cut, the ill-mannered and shaggy, bullslingers and Buddhists, Yogi’s and yahoos, Masons, Mormons and Monkeywrenchers, and as many variations as there are colors in a sunset over the Colorado Plateau.

   An interesting group to try to... certify. Motor-riggers, oar powered purists, paddle optionals, outward bounders and inward and onward, new agers, middle agers, from-another-agers.

   Many of you took a running leap over the Rim into Canyon life partly to put a little distance between you and Big Brother. You may still have a vote on how far Big Brother is behind you. For now. And as Seldom Seen said: “we’re just talkin...” For now.

   It’s your way of life, folks. Don’t hesitate to defend it... I don’t want to suggest that any efforts toward greater organization or a “credential” for river guides is aimed at creating a master race of “Vunderkind”, politically correct river guides—homogenized, pasteurized, certified. At least I hope not. But there is a very dangerous current here and I suggest you navigate it carefully. One of the surest ways to kill something is to quantify, qualify and regulate it... Give it a diploma and “certify” it...

   The Grand Canyon and the many rivers we love do not, to my knowledge, have credentials or need them. They just are who they are. This is true of most of the exceptional river guides I had the pleasure of running with over the years as well. We don’t need no stinkin’ badges...

   Yours for the evolution,

Dr. H.U. Heneli, Phd.
Mauka Lolo Wildlife Preserve
Hualalai, Hawaii