See Paula Chavez's pictures of the trip
See Gary Sheperd's pictures of the trip
See Barbara Tiekotter's pictures of the trip

Once at Ruby Ranch, we all pitched in at a feverish and sweat drenched rate on this warm morning to unload and separate the gear into 3 individual piles, one each for Paula, Gary, and Bill. Gordon and Melissa had their pile and Richard and Barbara had theirs. With the 7 boats on the beach and the somewhat disorganized array of gear nearby, our driver’s dismay became acute. He actually stayed behind and watched us pack the boats in case we needed to send some of it back with him. But surprise of surprises—it all fit, except for some extra gallons of water that Gary could not stow in his new and as yet, untested boat. The others found room, stowed the extra water and it was time to launch! By 11:30 the adventure had begun as we departed from Mile 97 of the Green on our way toward Mile 0 at the Confluence where the Green dumps into the Colorado River.

Laughter and the small talk of newly acquainted folks accompanied the languid pace of the river. We soon saw the first of many gray herons, as they stood silent and sentinel-like along the banks of the river. Sheer walls of various shades of red rock would soar heavenward in contrast to the azure blue skies while canyons across the way were etched into craggy formations. The base of the rock was punctuated with the lacy softness of brush, tamarisk, occasional oak, cottonwood and pinion on each side of the silty brownish ribbon of the Green River. Truly an incredibly grand landscape. Our colorful boats of red, green, yellow, gray, two shades of blue and one orange/red combo seemed like brightly colored exclamation points emphasizing the unbelievable palette before us.

If the trip had a motto it had to be “Paddle On!” Paula had done this same stretch of the river in the fall two years ago and promised lots of hiking and sandy beaches for camps. But she had made the trip in LOW water and we were now paddling in high water. So guess what? All those sandy beaches were either still under water or just recently exposed with very muddy shorelines making the existing campsites either too small for seven boats or too muddy to land. Our leisurely pace each day combined with the scarcity of campsites meant we paddled late each day searching for a campsite and the planned two night layover never did happen. But we did have some remarkable camp spots. The second night was on a great sandbar in the middle of the river big enough for all of us to spread out our tents and had enough bushes to have some privacy for our privies! I awoke during the night and went outside to witness an awesome moonlit saturated beach. Awesome. I also liked the spot on Friday night where we lugged all the gear uphill to a ledge outcropping and once set up, the commanding view from our perch made it all worthwhile.

Some of the anticipated hikes were not doable because of unfavorable landing spots due to the high water. However, we did enjoy the lunch time hike at Outlaw Cabin at mile 40. We also stopped at mile 1 just before the Confluence for lunch and then the four most senior members of the group hiked up toward Ekker Butte. While we didn’t make it the entire way up, we were able to go far enough to get a terrific view of the Confluence from on high. Gary and Bill also did the Doll House hike on Monday, our last day in camp, while Richard and Barbara settled for a hike to view the first two rapids in Cataract Canyon that same morning.

The traffic on the river for the entire week was light with one exception. In fact, I don’t recall seeing anyone the first or second day. But day three was quite another story. It seemed we had all settled into our laid back dip and drip rhythm when I looked back and saw paddles glinting in reflected morning sunlight. One canoe, no two—no three—wait there’s more! Turns out it was a group of boy scouts from Gilbert, Arizona. Fifty five of them all told spaced out over two hours in approximately 25 canoes, rafts, a couple of kayaks and a few motorized boats. And they were heading for the same evening stop as us at Mineral Bottom, which is at mile 52. Yikes! There goes the solitude! Paula, Michelle and Bill had brought water guns and decided to attack one of the boats of boys as they passed. Ha! They sure picked the wrong boat, because these guys were fully armed and loaded! The ensuing water fight provided a lot of laughter and fun for all. As for the camping at Mineral Bottom that night, it was quiet since the boys’ river trip ended there and they were all picked up and whisked away to Moab early that evening. Peace and quiet were once again restored to our sojourn.

As for the wildlife, it is there but we didn’t see very much of it. Richard and I were fortunate enough to spot a group of big horn sheep on day three. It looked like there was one male and two or three females plus three or more little ones. What a treat! We also saw plenty of the aforementioned gray herons. The bats flitted around our heads a couple of times in the early evening as they emerged from their daytime slumber in quest of their insatiable evening meal of insects! Hooray for the bats! Other than a couple of campsites where gnats were a problem, and some ants here and there, we were spared the brunt of the pest problem as we were ahead of their emergence. One more week might have dictated a far different report! One of the biggest treats was at mile 1, just before the Confluence. We had stopped for lunch and the Ekker Butte hike, when we all looked up to see a family of big horn—mom, dad and the kid. They were coming down toward us and got within 10-15 feet above us. Wow.

Weather conditions were nearly perfect. The daytime temps were warm, consistently in the mid 90’s making for bathing and splashing in the 70ish degree river water refreshing. We did encounter some spots of upriver wind as we rounded a few turns of the ever changing Green, but those spots were brief. The most challenging wind issue occurred as we neared the Confluence on Sunday, our last day of paddling. The blasts of wind coming upriver from the Colorado had us all struggling just before and immediately after the turn onto the Colorado. The winds increased in velocity and we all headed to a stretch of shore to wait it out. We guesstimated the winds to be blowing consistently at 25-35 mph with gusts 10-20 miles more than that. After a 45 minute break, and just a tad of improvement in wind, we launched into the wind to look for one of those elusive white sandy beaches that we’d been promised all week long! We passed some and went all the way down to Spanish Bottom only to discover that this spot was impossible to land in due to the thick, sink-up-to-your-behind mud, as Paula discovered once she got out of her boat. We all paddled the mile back up river to a small sandy beach we’d spotted on the way down. Seven days of paddling now completed. Hooray!

Tag A Long said they would pick us up at 2 p.m. on Monday afternoon. Our shuttle driver, Glenn, arrived a half hour early at 1:30. I could have kissed him—I was ready! It took us an hour to load the gear and boats onto the huge jet boat. By 2:30 we were on our two hour journey up the Colorado to a launch site just 20 miles from Moab where the parked bus and trailer waited. The once upon a time school bus with trailer attached was backed into the river, Glenn drove the jet boat onto the trailer, we all boarded the bus and were then off to our final destination to the Tag A Long office.

After a week of propelling ourselves down the Green as it meandered through Canyonlands National Park and its spectacular scenery, passing ruins of cliff dwellings still intact in spots, viewing rock formations that were formed so many millions of years ago it is hard to completely grasp the time concept, could nature get any better? It did. The two hour trip that sped through the geological spectacle on the Colorado was so much sweeter as we enjoyed it from the comfort of a well padded airline type chair in comfort and ease. After a week’s worth of sitting on hard plastic for several hours then sitting on the ground to cook and eat meals, those seats were nearly the highlight of the trip for me! The ride allowed for some mellow reflection of the past seven days and our companions, who I have fondly dubbed as ‘Paddle On Paula’, ‘Garrulous (not) Gary’, ‘Merry Melissa’, ‘Guide-Scout Gordon’ and ‘Poop Deck Bill.’ We had fun, didn’t we?

Arriving in Moab just past 6, the pace became brisk again as we all scurried to unload the kayaks and gear from the jet boat and repack in our respective vehicles. Hugs and farewells were exchanged as Richard and I headed first to Wendy’s (yea, ‘real’ food!) and then gassed up and drove until 10 that night on our journey homeward. The others had plans to eat out together and spend the night in Moab. I believe they intended to be home by Saturday. The experience of the Green will be with us to savor for years to come.

‘Running Rudderless Barb’ and ‘Red Wine Richard’.

Belknap’s Revised waterproof CANYONLANDS RIVER GUIDE is the bible for this part of the Green River. The phone number on the back of the books says 1-800-628-1326 if you want to order it directly from the publisher. You can purchase it through Tag-A-Long or from Back of Beyond Bookstore in Moab (800-700-2859 or www.moab.net/backofbeyond). This is an excellent bookstore with a lot of materials on the area and the river.