It's not very often where you truly get to be part of something great. A time, a trip, an adventure where you wish you could stop time and indulge in the moment... You could hit the pause button on the outside world, stopping life and progress at home with the wife and the kids. The job no longer mattered, the bills no longer needed to be paid and the money in the checking account was no longer needed. I just had one of those trips... An adventure where I wish I could pause time and completely indulge and engulf myself in the moment. A trip where I could get lost in those Utah Canyons and time would pause so I didn't miss anything at home with my wife and girls...
"I want to run the Green River." was what Ted's text read. I was giggling like a school girl as I began typing out my reply. My friend Ted is a lawyer and we were like junior high friends taking brash jabs at each other every chance we get. "Is that your BFF, Ted?" Liz asked as she watched me snickering at my reply somehow twisting my rebuttal to poke at him and his profession. I quite often got a text from Ted saying he wanted run this river or mimic a trip he had seen on a paddling forum we were both a part of. Ted and I had met on the internet. It was something that seemed pretty common amongst lonely single men and women these days..but not that common for grown men and women who just seeked an adventure companion. We wanted nothing more than a partner with his own boat and gear, good campfire conversations and a strong helping hand when we were in trouble on the river and literally stuck between the rock and a hard place. Our first trip was several years ago on the Dismal River. It was a river that Ted had wanted to run and I had grown up with it in my backyard. The trip went well. He promised he wasn't an axe murderer as I invited a complete stranger to stay in my parents home the night before we were to put in on the Dismal River. By the end of the weekend, we had had a lot of laughs, Ted had his inauguration Dismal River run under his belt with the scrapes, scratches and bruises to prove it..and well, my parents had taken a liking to him. Not as if that was needed, but definitely frosting on the cake when meeting people on the internet. We were no longer strangers, but friends, both seeking the next adventure. My final text to Ted was.. "So you have wanted to run the Upper Missouri in Montana, we have talked about the North Platte River in Wyoming and now it's the Green River in Utah, which one do you want to do in 2020." Ted's text back was plain and to the point. No jabs or brassy comments. "The Green" he replied. And so, the Green River trip was born...
The trip started in a desert valley. Nothing really too exciting. A bleak, dry and barren spot. I think the country term that came to mind was "Drier than a popcorn fart.", a saying I never really understood but knew the term was synonymous with "Damn dry". There was very little flora and the only green was the irrigated farm ground next to the river and you could hear the hum of the electric motors pumping water out of the river onto the alfalfa that I could tell the rancher desperately needed to grow. The put in was on a private ranch and we had to buy our access to the river. I think we all hoped that there was more to the Green River than this. It didn't coincide with the pictures we had seen and the videos we had watched. As we traveled down the river that afternoon, the rocks from the dry valley grew. They slowly turned into bigger rocks and then into short canyon walls. I think we could all feel the river leisurely digging its way deeper into the Earth. The canyon walls grew as we put miles and hours between us and our initial put in point on the ranch. The soulful red, rust, tan and brown colors began to paint the canyon walls and I think we all finally settled in and breathed a sigh of relief. The adventure of the trip finally started. We didn't initially see it at the ranch and the last signs of civilization, but now it was here and apparent. The desert wilderness was flaunting itself to us...
The first night of camping was on a sandy bank overlooking the Green. Fire restrictions were in place and we couldn't have a campfire, but that didn't stop the conversations, story telling and laughs of past experiences. We hiked one of the side canyons of Labyrinth Canyon, swam in the river and let the waters of the Green cool us off after an afternoon of paddling in the hot sun. Even though we had all just met, our group dynamics were meshing well.
Day two was the big day of our four day trip. We had 20 river miles to paddle before arriving at the bottom of the "Saddle", a point on the Green where the river travels 7 miles before doubling back on itself. The Saddle is a location where you can take a picture of the river traveling in opposite directions and is only divided by 400 yards of canyon wall. The day was hot, but the Canyon was beautiful. Ted and I talked about how amazing the scenery was as we maneuvered our way through the twists and turns of the river. Our conversation was never stale. It was almost as if we had known each other years as we discussed life, past adventures, our kids and the scenery in front of us. Steve and Ken seemed to be doing well, although they had never shared a canoe together before. I honestly don't think anyone suffered from even an inch of boredom. The trip was truly amazing and we were all just taking it in...
We finally reached the bottom of the Saddle. We still had to hike to the top of the canyon. I could tell the river miles and heat of the day had taken its toll on all of us. I had been offering Cokes to my companions earlier that afternoon. I knew that we all were starting to suffer a little from the almost 100 degree day. The sun was beating down on us from above and the now deep canyon walls were only aiding the desert heat and created an almost oven affect. I hoped the sugar and caffeine would act as a drug and give us the boost we needed to do the climb before setting up camp that evening... Without a doubt, the trail was steep. There were even a couple points where we almost had to do a rock scramble similar to summiting a "fourteener" in Colorado. We all pitched in now.. Giving that strong helping hand we all desired of an adventure partner. We were no longer strangers, but friends, all seeking to tame the same fire that burned inside of us.. I was behind Steve when we reached the top of the Saddle. Instantly, I could see Steve's expression change with the excitement of the view. His smile was from ear to ear and he quickly turned around giving me approval of what he saw and was giving high fives to everyone in the group. I wasn't for sure the excitement that Steve felt in that picture of himself on that summit of Lobuche, but that same smile was there on the Saddle and I was proud to be a part of the adventure... The view on the Saddle was extraordinary. It was windy and the two canyon walls were like brothers standing back to back trying to decide who had a taller stature. Each canyon had its own personality. The same earthen colors, but the structures were different. We had been traveling through a canyon with a rim and tall walls. We would soon be seeing the canyon change into one with cliffs and bluffs. It would be the same canyon, but like brothers, different...
That evening, I don't think we even had camp setup before the first beers of the evening were cracked open. We were all hot and tired, the Green was cold and we needed to celebrate an epic day. Ken peeled his shirt off and ran into the water like a young adolescent and dove in. We all cackled at his display of excitement and youth. Steve took a beer in the river with him. That smile had never left his face from the summit of the Saddle. He looked at me with that grin and told me he felt 16 again... I envisioned him reminiscing of misguided younger days of his life. No cares, no worries, only fun and adventures. The Green acted like a fountain of youth, turning back the hands of time for all of us. Even though our age differences spanned over 25 years, we all felt young again and the cold beer was only helping the situation. We soon fell right into place, like old college buddies, taking brassy jabs at each, cracking lawyer jokes with Ted and telling tall tales of our younger years. Honestly, I think the expectations of this trip by now were far exceeded and we were celebrating the moment and the new found friendships.
Day three was the last full day on the Green. We had 10 river miles and I hoped to find some petroglyphs in one of the side canyons. The petroglyphs were evidence that these canyons were not always wilderness. The canyons were once inhabited by indigenous people a thousand years ago..civilization existed here. I quite often question if these people were possibly more "civilized" than what we are today. No, not as technologically advanced, but did they have a fuller life? Did they understand the true meaning of community and kindness? These are questions I ponder on river trips... Somehow, we missed the canyon that had these ancient relics. It was something I wanted to see, but was not disappointed. There was meat left on the bone for a future trip down the Green River again. This would not be my last trip down this river...
It would be our last night of camping. We found another sandbar with another picturesque backdrop..something you felt like you would see in a picture or a National Geographic Magazine. Ted kept claiming he felt like he was living in a Ansel Adam Gallery...only we were living it and not just seeing it perfectly framed on the wall in an air conditioned building. So far, Mother Nature had been pleasant. Our days had been warm, but the weather was beautiful. That night, she decided to show us we were on her terms and living in her playground. We watched a thunderstorm work its way down the canyon. The lightning illuminated the night sky. The breeze began to build and slowly worked itself into a wind. The first gust of wind blew through giving us a powerful blow. It ripped the stakes out of my tent and it started rolling towards the river. Steve seen it go and took off running to catch it. Ted's and I canoe flipped over in the river dumping the few contents we didn't need for the night. Ted and I ran gathering what we could. Ken was holding his tent down and thankfully Steve outran my tent and saved it. Hoping our canoe and contents were now secure, I ran to help Steve save my tent and get it staked back to the sand and the Earth. Another gust came and this time Steve's tent was its prey. It was caught by the bushes and as I tried to help Steve wrestle it out of the wind's grip, one of the poles broke rendering it useless. We were no longer strangers, but a community of friends and we all chimed in offering Steve a place in our fabric shelters for the night... I didn't sleep much that night. The wind shook my tent and the rain fly flapped like a flag in the violent blows. I could hear the river rippling and white capping from the gales. I wondered if it was raining upriver and how long our canoes and tents would be safe on the sandbar. This, after all, was the wilderness.. and we were on a wilderness adventure.
I woke the next morning with a fine layer of sand and grit on everything. The wind had blown sand under the rain fly and through the screen coating my sleeping bag and clothes. The winds had finally subsided and it was a beautiful morning. We slowly packed our gear and loaded the canoes. Only a few more miles left and we would be at our take out point and back the civilized world. Ted and I were a little quieter today. I think we just wanted to relish in the little time we had left. The canyon was still mesmerizing...never giving us a break in her gorgeous curves. At one point, Ted turned and looked at me..."This was the best outdoor experience in my life.." It was a sincere, firm and a quiet statement. I knew he meant every word. I smiled...without a doubt, it was epic and would be a trip I would remember for the rest of my life. I am just glad I could be a part of it..
To be honest, I think I could have kept paddling past our take out point that day. It's not often you get to be part of something great... an adventure that you wish you could turn into a lifestyle. I missed my family.. my wife and girls. I wondered how life had been with them since my last contact five days before, but I think if I could have hit the pause button on life, I would have kept paddling to the Colorado River and then on from there. There were more canyons and more desert to explore...
