Pack Light: Minimize baggage & ditch the booze
“If it excites you & scares you at the same time, you should probably do it” (1)
sums up launching from Lee’s Ferry into 187 River Miles of The Colorado through the Grand Canyon. I am thankful I did not deep-dive research or overthink my trip. Every day was filled with magical surprises: hummingbirds & moonflowers, rainbow-filled waterfalls, faerie blue water spilling out over cliffs in hues of ochre, ruby, coriander, currants, and more, wicked waves in monster rapids, hikes to slot canyons rippled in swirls of granite, cooled magma & molten lava. Multitudes of critters shyly peered at us scrambling through their rocks and homes, but we all respectfully shared the glorious secret corners Mother Nature and The Colorado River had carved out over the billenniums. Even the Tarantula Hawks!
I awoke each morning like an eager child, convinced I could reach out and touch the twinkling stars, comforted by the bedside riffles whooshing through the rocks, enthusiasm exploding out of me like the powerful waterfall tumbling 1000s of gallons per second. The fabulous boatmen filled us with hearty & healthy breakfasts made from scratch: yes real eggs cracking, fresh sliced avocados, New England Maple Syrup, and hand-brewed coffee: silky & strong. Hydrating and fueling up was a necessary safety protocol along with being delightfully delicious! It was already a delicate balance of electrolytes, salt, and sustenance. I can't imagine trying to remediate the effects of mixing toxins into the equation.
I pushed my physical and mental limits: “Life begins at the end of our comfort zone” ~ NDW, (2) remembering that complacency is a recipe for disaster. Balance is always the goal: be it holding onto the boat straps as mega waves try and knock you into the river, hand-searing hot rocky handholds as one descends into the side canyons, slippery moss-covered stones in elf-charmed streams, holding a yoga Cranes pose steady over your chamber pot during a midnight pee or “imaginary wall” squats above the groover while enjoying a magnificent view (hoping fellow rafters do not paddle by with hoots & hellos).
I made it home physically bruised & battered, yet spiritually satiated. My body will heal, my memories seared into my soul. As I walked up the hill at Whitmore Wash, away from the chilled green waters, the temps rising rapidly, I turned around for one last look with feet in the sand “The shock of the real. For a little while we are again able to see, as the child sees, a world of marvels. For a few moments, we discover that nothing can be taken for granted, for if this ring of stone is marvelous then all which shaped it is marvelous, and our journey here on earth, able to see and touch and hear in the midst of tangible and mysterious things-in-themselves, is the most strange and daring of all adventures.” ― Edward Abbey, Desert Solitaire (3)
Packing Tips: Packing as lightly as possible was a necessity, bringing everything you need was imperative. I felt somewhere between Cheryl Strayed in Wild and Stephen Katz, Bill Bryson's buddy on the AT. Sunscreen, water clothes, sturdy shoes, sense of humor & adventure, an open mind, good listening ears, and camaraderie proved to be the essential elements. I read a blog on "byob river alcohol" but why burden my bag with booze? The guides advised "Pack light. Let go and free up space for something new to come in." and I liked this thinking!
Quote Acknowledgment
(1) Unknown
(2) Neale Donald Walsch
(3) Edward Abbey
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