Further installments from my Grand Canyon journal …

Tuesday morning dawned bright with a quick pack up. We still struggled with the tent but did a little better than previously. I stowed my gear in Michael’s boat. The rapids were interesting, but not as exciting as the day before. Sharon and Allison were cold, so Michael had them row. At one point we got stuck on a rock and Michael jumped into the river to push us off. He regaled us with history of the canyon, tales about the travel companies that run trips, and general commentary on subjects ranging from current TV shows to the psychology of relationships. It was a beautiful morning, and I wondered if the marvels and majesty ever get old. The canyon is constantly shifting in shape, color and structure, and each bend in the river brings new vistas. I loved the shift from lazy ride in the sun, to gentle drift in the shade, punctuated by rushes through the rapids. At one point I apologized for constantly saying, “Wow!” and Michael asked why I apologized. “It must get old hearing people marvel,” I explained. “Not at all … there is always something marvelous to see here,” he responded.

Michael explains everything

At one point, we drifted slowly through a narrow area of the canyon and Bill began playing his flute. We all hushed our conversations and the guides stopped rowing. We drifted while the ethereal music floated over the river. It was truly magical.

Bill's serenade

We landed for lunch and encountered an unbelievable traffic jam. We met up with about 5 or 6 different groups traveling down the river. It became apparent that we were all battling for the same choice camp sites, so the evening was going to prove interesting. Guides swapped their projected camp destinations and brows furrowed. Due to the jam on the river, Michael decided not to move us on after hiking – and we scrambled to set up camp in a spot we had considered temporary.

… to be continued …