Think twice. You cannot have adventure and perfect security both. If you think you can, you are a blockhead or worse.
My first impression, after noting a solid tow rig, was Will's perfect ease in backing the trailer into the narrow, dirt path. I next noted the similar ease among the Boatmen (Gender neutral), who all seemed to have been born to this or doing since age 5. Their very nonchalance, levity and ease testifies rather to their expertise than to any negligence, note this. This was our best hope.
But, remembering my Warrant Officer on the Gray (FF1054), who personally checked and pulled tight the life vest on every fool on deck before our UnRep, I did likewise to my boatmate and myself. Will visually checked each.
Food is richer than needed. The mix of younger and older people (guides, come-alongs and paying clients) was also congenial. In this trip we had two passengers, and one Boatman in each raft plus gear. They said, class 2 rapids, sometimes busy. Average about 5 hours on the Upper Gila in March per day, broken by lunch or hikes. Comfortable and easy tents and sleeping bags. My first night was difficult, I woke at 1:30 AM seeking my jacket, having my gear, which I had mislaid and thrashed about in pitch darkness for an hour. (I would not bother others.)
My Boatman, Jonathan, laconically remarked the routine would grow easier thereafter.
The current is fast but the water, not cold. Challenges must include "strainers", or bush blocking the streams, which the Boatmen must navigate or clear. Rapids are short but wet.
The old man, Chip, graciously gave me leg cramp pills which helped much, likewise my tent-mate, anti-diarrheal pills. The lou' is simple and the prudent will use it early and often.
The old man also warned that the last leg may be no picnic, however short. We encountered many strainers and must wait. How can it be otherwise in Nature?
Our Boatmen then entered the water to chest high as we were berthed, sawing and clearing. The average was cleared in 30 minutes or less and progress resumed. Their expertise was shown in recognizing these snags immediately they came in view, whistling and parking out well ahead.
The last was most memorable as we were the lead boat, though Joe knows the stream best. These were ordinary snags and strainers, low-branches which we must pass around or under. The lead must be traded from time and circumstance.
Note this: if your young Boatman, as Jonathan, who has heretofore handled all with great ease, now begins to exert himself, to huff and to sprint, know this:
It is now late days to worry of your affairs, portfolio or last will and testament, much less your life-vest.
We came sideways upon the snag. Before he could yell: "Hi Side, You All!", we were already 50 degrees up. The low side gunnel was now three inches or more below waterline and flooding. Before another second I was pitched in the water, upstream and both others likewise. I do not know how I or the boat came unstuck from upstream, but here I sit.
If you want to see "the shadow which precedes death", you need not watch "Sparticus". It looks like a capsized raft just four inches upstream of your face, your feet underneath it and your head downstream. "Ah, you are the scaredy-cat!"
True, my tent-mate believed he had the luxury of time to worry for his new cell phone, and he did fine. Believing otherwise, I forsook my jacket and possessions and rather addressed myself to walking hand-over-hand on the gunnel ropes to get upstream of my boat.
"Oh, your Boatman should save you!", which indeed he did, firstly by all his labors, especially by the provision of our life-vests. Second, it was all his duty to save himself, then to control and beach the boat. To expect otherwise is stupid, since by his grounding the boat, I could now loose the bight of line which had lashed my right foot to it, get on hands and knees facing upstream, and feebly get to shore. Which bight was my own fault since I had loosened the bowline and not relashed it.
I gave him trifle help at first, we could not upright or careen the boat on the beach since an oar had impaled through its floor and jammed downstream into the rocks. But I gave him slight help to begin unloading and beaching the cargo from beneath it, which he began immediately. After which, while the party landed and made us a fire and food, he worked 90 minutes straight to unload, upright, and reload the boat, spending perhaps 5 minutes at the fire and 5 on lunch and light conversation with the ladies. He continued unabated as did the others the following four hours until we were all beached on shore and all gear fully trailered and all personnel in the van. Will stacked three boats plus Ward's catamaran, plus all gear on the ~ 8 by 16 foot trailer. Will stopped to double-check the lashing before entering the main road.
And what dare I say? "Boatman, your courage gives me hope!"
"No, for it is read more