Unimagined Gifts

Day One - Beginning

Pastel-colored Vermillion Cliffs dwarfed a white van as it came in to view. Bright yellow waterproof bags containing clothing and personal items were stacked neatly on the roof. Inside the van were ten exhausted and eager passengers, part of a group of nineteen about to embark on a sixteen-day raft adventure down the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon. They had arrived at Lees Ferry, the jumping off point for Canyon raft trips. To get here they had to contend with last-minute details at home and work for a two-and-a-half-week absence, travel hassles, a restless night, an early morning wake-up, and a three-hour van ride from Flagstaff in Northern Arizona.

Day One - First Camp

“This is the prep table,” he began in his booming, affable voice. “It has nothing to do with college.” He paused, raised his eyebrows, and laughed, causing everybody to crack up. “The prep table is for preparing food.” Another huge grin with two thumbs up. “Anybody who wants to help is most welcome. But noooo graaazing.” Walking across the inner kitchen area, he continued. “And this is the serving table. Notice the plates, bowls, and silverware. This is where we all begin. We will have both dinner and breakfast set out buffet-style for your dining pleasure. You can’t beat the ambience in this five-star restaurant. Every seat is a window seat.” As laughter echoed off the Canyon wall, I wondered, where else could you find people who work so hard and have so much fun?

Day Eight - New Passengers

Around 9:30, the two girls, Doron and Roni, showed up. Roni, an enthusiastic girl with dark hair and dancing eyes, talked nonstop about the hike down, how excited she was to be going on a raft trip, and just couldn’t wait to get started. She was a bit chubby, but carried the weight well. As verbal as Roni was, Doron was just the opposite. Her dark hair framed a very pretty but guarded face. She didn’t show any feeling, and was more business-like, setting immediately to work unpacking her backpack and transferring her personal stuff into a yellow bag. Ten minutes later, Liz and Elli arrived. Like her daughter, Elli was friendly and extroverted, with a similar body type. Liz, her face flushed by the exertion of the hike down, was more like her daughter – quiet and smoldering. She was a beautiful woman with very curly black hair, a sweet smile emanating from pouty lips, high cheekbones, and mysterious, deep-set, clear black eyes. I introduced myself self-consciously, aware that I was immediately attracted to her. It was not only her looks that drew my attention, but also a certain mystery that she seemed to carry.

Roni was listening intently. “Oh my God,” she said, “and we’re going there?” I nodded my head, and looked back at Elli and Liz, who didn’t seem nearly as enamored. As I moved the raft closer to the left shore, I told them they were going to love it. Downstream on river left, a long narrow beach bordered by tammies pushed out into the river as it dropped out of sight. The low growl of Hermit drifted upstream on a soft breeze. It was a different sound than we had yet heard, and I felt some anticipation as I told everyone we were going to pull over and tie up, and then head down by land to the rapid to photograph the other rafts.

The girls were as far up on the front tube as they could go, screaming at the tops of their lungs. As we climbed the fifth wave, I looked back to make sure Doron was in a safe position. She was plastered against the bags, and holding on tightly. In a second that lasted an hour, we were carried up the front of the wave, crested at the top as the wave broke over us, settled for an instant, and then the front tipped downward and we slid down the back side of the wave. I let out an exhilarated “Oh My God!” and then yelled that we weren’t through yet. Before the flash flood, the tail waves had been smaller. Now they were big and steep, and the distance between them was narrow. If we began our celebration too soon, we could lose momentum, slide off the side of one of those waves, and possibly flip.

Day Sixteen - Last Camp

We set up camp in the big eddy at 222, and enjoyed a delicious last supper of chicken cacciatore, garlic bread, fruit salad, and Mystic Mints for dessert. During dinner Sue announced the plan for the next morning. We would have a leisurely morning because we wouldn’t be arriving at our take-out until nine. In the past we would enjoy a true dawn float where we would get up in the dark, and float the last few miles in silence, bringing closure to the trip while watching the Canyon wake up. More recently our dawn floats had been silent but not as early. Now, the Hualapais, who have their own thriving river business that takes people down to Lake Mead, have said they need the beach until nine in the morning, which is the time their trips are scheduled to launch. So Sue said we would have a continental breakfast with coffee and bagels, and enjoy a big spread at the take-out. We would still be floating in silence as a way to tie our experience together. I suggested that for those who found it useful, they think about the gifts they had received while on the trip. I described gifts as a new awareness about themselves or others, a new skill, a new ability, anything that they could take back home and integrate into their lives. I also suggested they give away anything that they had brought into the Canyon that they no longer needed – an attitude, a belief, a judgment that no longer served them. Give them to the river, I suggested.

It was pretty dark by now, and because we had such a big sky and a late-rising moon, I offered to give a star talk. Several folks came down, including Tyler, Miriam, Timmy, Eliza, and Mary, whose foot hadn’t gotten any better, but didn’t seem to be any worse. The night sky was awash with stars, and the Milky Way painted a white, diaphanous streak down the center. I started with the Big Dipper, and from there pointed out Polaris, the North Star at the end of the handle of the Little Dipper. I also showed them the rest of the polar constellations: Draco the dragon, Lyre the harp with the bright star Vega, Arcturus the bright star at the bottom of Bootes, and the Corona Borealis, the Northern Crown, with the brightest star Gemma (the gem in the crown). I then described the Summer Triangle, with Deneb in Cygnus the swan, Altair in Aquila the eagle, and Vega in Lyre. Finally I pointed to Saggitarius the archer, and Scorpius the scorpion. At that point I asked if everyone could see all these forms. Timmy, looking up at the sky, said all he could see was fuzzy things. Mary asked him if he was nearsighted, and he said yes, but his dad told him he couldn’t bring his glasses on the trip. Then Mary said she was near sighted, and offered her glasses to him. He put on her glasses and looked up. “Wow,” he said, “look at all the stars.”