Green River kayak

Green River Kayak, Labyrinth and Stillwater Canyons

June 3 – 7, 2013

Michelle was the only member of our kayak group without NoDak ties so Roger told her that in order to become an honorary member she would have to pass a quiz about all things North Dakotan. I think Michelle was graded on a curve to pass Roger’s test but, to be fair, some of his questions were questionable.  Such as - what is the ND county where fellow trip member Collete grew up and which also describes Roger’s chest? (Answer: Burley) What North Dakota city is the geographic center of North America, the name of a sport and, more importantly, Roger’s birthplace? (Answer: Rugby)

Next order of business was answering the poop questions. And there were a lot of poop questions! The Green River trip would take us through Canyonlands National Park. A Park Service requirement is that you carry an approved toilet system and pack out your human waste in a container clearly labeled as such. For some reason no one wanted to volunteer to carry the human waste bag. There was discussion of towing the poop bag behind one of the kayaks but we didn’t think the Park Service would be too keen on that idea. Not having the equipment to launch the unwanted payload into space, there was no choice left but to man up and carry the load.

A van ride with Tex’s Riverways to the start at Mineral Bottom began the adventure. The road down into the canyon was steep, narrow, and winding but was in good enough shape that I wasn’t distracted by my fear of heights from listening to the driver’s warnings about potential hazards on the trip. None of the dangers materialized. No scorpions. No rattlesnakes. No storms and very little wind.

Linda, Michelle and Collete at Mineral Bottom put-in

What our party of five experienced was almost perfect. The river was running at around 10,000 cfs which was fast enough to make paddling optional yet slow enough to fight our way upriver if we missed a landing spot. 95 degree days were fairly comfortable on the water. Evenings were very pleasant and were spent on hikes exploring the incredible surroundings. Water temperature elicited shouts getting in but was swimmable and refreshing.

Michelle and her anti-sunburn strategy

Our biggest challenge going on the trip during high water was finding landing spots at the campsites. The sandbars popular for camping were covered. Swift current and no beach made other landing spots tricky.

Our first stop was easy. We paddled up Horsethief Canyon and stopped for lunch at a nice sandy beach. After some exploration we found the sheep petroglyphs etched into a boulder on a bench to the left of where we landed. A father and son canoe duo landed and made the wise choice to stay at a nice campsite under a cottonwood tree. We decided to paddle on to Fort Bottom.

Horsethief Canyon

We were approaching Hardscrabble Bottom, enjoying a leisurely paddle when Collete, who was out ahead, announced that she heard a waterfall. A few strokes later and we were met with a mighty wind blasting our faces. There were no landing spots due to the high banks and tamarisks. Roger and I, in our double kayak, had a hard time moving forward so I was concerned about Linda, Collete and Michelle in the single kayaks. I didn’t need to be concerned. The group valiantly battled the wind for about 45 minutes and then after rounding the corner, the wind stopped. Everyone was glad to have survived the “hurricane”, as Collete was now calling her “waterfall”.  

Green River scene

We might have missed the Fort Bottom landing had a canoe not been tied up there. With barely enough room for our four boats, we rammed the noses of our kayaks into the riverbank and jumped out into the water. It was our first experience with the quicksand-like mud that we would encounter again and again. If you didn’t keep moving, your feet would sink deep into the muck. Trying to get out was like trudging through wet concrete.

The Horsethief Canyon campsite that we had left behind looked mighty good after examining the Fort Bottom site. The lone canoeist had set up his tent under the one shady flat spot beneath a ledge. Michelle and Collete got right to work setting up their tents in the hot sun. Linda, Roger and I sat in the shade and hydrated and then hydrated some more.

Fort Bottom campsite, Moki fort on top of plateau behind

That evening most of our group hiked to the top of the plateau to see the Moki fort ruin. Even better was the view of the panorama and the desert colors enhanced by the setting sun. The view definitely redeemed our choice of camp.

Fort Bottom view

Our goal for day two was Anderson Bottom/Bonita Bend and water resupply at an old spring. From other reports we expected mild rapids at Millard Canyon but with the high water there wasn’t a ripple. Arriving at Anderson Bottom we found the main campsite occupied by a party of 12 – 6 children and 6 adults. We went a bit further downstream and found a little swampy cove with a nice campsite above. There was not room to land and unpack four boats without great difficulty. Collete got out and walked over to the main campsite and discovered that the big group planned to have lunch and then pack up and leave. Michelle, in the meantime, had unpacked her kayak and was cooking her lunch. We were debating what to do and Michelle declared she was staying put. The consensus opinion, however, was to paddle back upstream and go to the other campsite after the group had left. After eating, Michelle concurred. We learned to feed Michelle before making any decisions!

Enroute to Anderson Bottom

Butte of the Cross

Roger scouted out the old spring at Anderson Bottom and found a stagnant pool so we ended up filtering the brown river water. We filled a cloth bucket with water and let the particles settle out before filtering and that worked okay.

Michelle jumped in the river and floated downstream a couple hundred feet to a spot where it was possible to pull yourself back up on the bank. Soon the blazing sun convinced all of us to follow her example and let the river give us a cooling ride. Roger had the good fortune of floating down the river with an otter swimming just ahead of him.

From our camp, Roger, Michelle, Collete and I headed west to the slot canyon. Guarding its entrance was a little frog and a slimy, mucky waist-deep pool (chest deep for me) that had to be crossed. Michelle went first and Roger followed. They walked across the pond and were able to scramble up the first vertical rise. I ended up swimming across and tried three times to get up to the next level without success. With her long legs Collete could have continued but decided that crossing the water filled slime pit was enough adventure so she returned to camp with me. My white shirt had turned red and it stayed red after a swim in the river. Skin required scrubbing to remove the red slime.

Slot Canyon

Linda had been searching for petroglyphs that were reportedly hiding on the north face of Frog Rock. Collete and I joined her in the search for Frog Rock and spied out a rock outcrop that, with imagination, looked like a frog. We climbed up a sand dune to get to its base and, just as we concluded we were unsuccessful, Collete noticed a nice group of petroglyphs higher up on its face. We enjoyed the glyphs and the view across the valley, then happily descended the sand dune with bare feet.

Frog Rock

Michelle and Roger returned to camp excited from their adventure. Michelle had discovered her inner mountain goat and enthusiastically scrambled from one steep pitch to the next. The two continued until they were stopped by a high overhanging lip. Roger was relieved they found an alternative way out of the slot canyon and were able to come down an old path rather than down-climb in the slot.

    

Morning at Anderson Bottom

Our planned destination for day three was Turks Head and its native ruins, flint chip site and rock art. We did a challenging rock ledge landing at Tower Park/Cabin Bottom with the intention of looking for petroglyph boulders. We decided it was too hot and too far to hike to the glyphs and were returning to the boats when we heard a crash. Luckily, Michelle was down by the kayaks and was able to grab Linda’s boat as it was sliding off the rock ledge and into the river.

Next we kayaked up Soda Springs Canyon and stopped there for lunch. Soda Springs was a pretty canyon that invited more exploration than we had time for. Back on the Green River we continued our float past Turks Head and did not see a good spot to land and camp so we changed our destination to Deadhorse Canyon.

We paddled a short ways up Deadhorse and, with a bit of maneuvering, were able to land and unpack all our boats. We had a choice of campsites among the trees by the water or on a scenic bench above. Swimming was good in the calm water at the mouth of Deadhorse. Toward evening we hiked to a petroglyph boulder by a cottonwood tree west of our camp. From there, we went up and over a ridge that lead to one of the petroglyph boulders that we had planned to access from Tower Park/Cabin Bottom. This trek required some scrambling which required quite a bit of encouragement for me to continue. With interesting petroglyphs on three sides, the boulder was worth the stress from the scramble.

View of Turks Head from 3-sided petroglyph boulder

Day four would be our last and longest day on the river. We traveled approximately 20 miles to a camp just below the confluence with the Colorado River when a planned stop at Water Canyon didn’t work out. Day four also saw Michelle experience two unplanned dunks in the water. Her first immersion happened early when she was getting in her kayak to leave Deadhorse Canyon. The narrow underwater ledge she was standing on sloughed off and deposited her in the water. Later we paddled up the entrance to Jasper Canyon to investigate some ruins. We went over a small tree that had fallen across the narrow channel. Upon leaving, Michelle was attempting to back over the tree when it caught her by surprise and swamped her kayak. Luckily, we were protected from the fast current of the Green River so Michelle was able to right her kayak and pump it out without a problem. Thanks to Michelle’s example, Roger and I went over the downed tree VERY carefully.

Another stop was at Horse Canyon. The group of 12 was camped there and the 7 year old boy was celebrating his birthday by proudly catching minnows with his net. The high canyon walls made Horse Canyon a cool campsite. Roger, Collete and I hiked to the beautiful dryfall and pool. Linda and Michelle had returned to the Green River and went downstream a short ways to land on one of the rare sandbars above the water level.

Entrance to Horse Canyon

Collete at Horse Canyon dry fall

Arriving at Water Canyon we paddled a fair ways up the canyon. We had been told there was a large campsite at Water Canyon and were surprised to find space for just one or two tents. We later learned that the large campsite was actually a short distance upstream of where the Water Canyon creek bed enters the river. We continued downstream instead of paddling back upstream to a campsite where the group of 12 planned to spend the night.

Next we stopped at Powells Canyon, just one mile above the Confluence, which was reported to have a campsite. The landing looked problematic and when I got out of the kayak to check the campsite I instantly sunk in the muck up to my knees. I struggled to extricate myself. We decided to move on. 

Our hunt for a campsite ended shortly below the Confluence where we landed on a long sandy beach. There was a cottonwood tree for shade and multiple sites for tents. This was not our planned stop but it was a good one. We were able to relax, enjoy the evening and get ready, without being hurried, for our jet boat pick-up the next morning.

Last night camp below Confluence

The next day the group of 12 arrived at our camp beach shortly before the jet boat was scheduled to come and take us all up the Colorado River and back to Moab. They proceeded to unload a lot of stuff out of their canoes. They even set up a table! From their coolers they got out tortilla shells, bagels, chicken and other fixings, and condiments. Michelle, after eating freeze dried meals for five days, looked over and exclaimed, “Wow! You have real food!” Linda, Roger, Collete and I were sitting above the beach under the cottonwood tree watching this unfold. Collete drooled, “They’ve got ketchup! And mustard!” And so on.

It was true. Our limited storage space meant our bellies were subjected to a more spartan diet. Our spirits, however, overflowed with plenty. The company was great. The scenery was magnificent. And the kayaking down the peaceful but lively Green River was bliss.