MAHOPAC, N.Y.—To wrap up this year’s monthly history articles, I felt compelled to share some of my excitement with our Mahopac readers about a fabulous book I read recently (which has absolutely nothing to do with our hamlet or even this part of the country!).
Back in 2019, a bunch of my family and friends signed up for a three-day rafting trip down the Colorado River in the Grand Canyon. We figured, what the heck? Let’s go for it. After a puddle-jumper flight from Las Vegas to a desert airstrip at a remote ranch (and I mean REMOTE), we were ferried into the Canyon in small groups by helicopter until all 18 passengers assigned to our raft were present.
The raft, made up of a series of long rubber tubes lashed together, was huge. This "J-rig" was manned by two river guides, had an outboard motor, and carried everything all 20 of us needed for the next three days. We glided down the river, went through various soaking rapids, pulled over for lunches and small hikes into hidden grottos, slept under the stars and got to take in 88 miles of one of the world's most majestic and breathtaking landscapes. Our only contact with the outside world was by emergency satellite phone (if it worked). It was August and it was hot! Someone on the raft was always designated to keep everyone wet, periodically dousing them with a bucket of water. Even during the night, you had to get out of your cot every few hours, soak your sheet in the river (a few feet away) and pull it over you to get any rest at all. At the end, I'll never forget the exhilarating feeling getting into the air-conditioned bus at Pierce Ferry for our ride back to Vegas!
This trip by Western River Expeditions was fantastic. However, at the time, I really didn't know anything about the river, the canyon, its history or the people connected to it. That is, until I read "The Emerald Mile" by Kevin Fedarko (Simon & Schuster 2013). This book guaranteed my return to the Grand Canyon and to the wonders within.
The Colorado River is 1,450 miles long, from the Rocky Mountains in northern Colorado to the Gulf of California (Mexico). The Colorado, which carries tons of silt with it, means "colored red" in Spanish. Officially, it passes through 277 miles of Grand Canyon—from Mile 0 at Lee's Ferry, Arizona to Mile 277 at Pierce Ferry, Arizona. Our raft trip in 2019 was through the canyon's "tame" part of the river - the final 88 miles. The first 188 miles requires a six-day raft trip and is significantly more challenging with over 60 rapid –many individually named, with some being world class.
Historically, not much was known about the southwestern U.S. until after the Civil War (other than it was unexplored, dry and consider not hospitable). Then in 1869, thirty-five-year-old Major John Wesley Powell decided to unlock some of these mysteries by making the first transit by boat down the Green and Colorado rivers and through the Grand Canyon. Powell was a map maker and geologist who had lost his right forearm at the Battle of Shiloh during the Civil War. He was described as a "a stick of beef jerky adorned with whiskers". His ragtag group of nine men in four wooden boats started their journey on May 24. None of them knew a thing about white water. They suffered mishap after mishap and lost one of their boats (and all its supplies) on June 8. They were forced to carry their boats around many of the rapids or cling to the sides of the Canyon for survival. They were almost burned to death, scrambling back to their boats, after a campfire ignited the trees around them. The men became weatherbeaten and exhausted and were running out of food. Three members climbed out of the canyon and left the expedition during the trip. Two were never seen again. Finally on August 30, 99 days after starting, their journey was completed as the remaining six men in two boats, sunburned and with little clothing left on their bodies arrived at their planned destination. Powell's group traveled almost a thousand miles, and their journey of discovery became one of the most celebrated in American history. Powell put America's stamp on one of her last great unknowns and opened the way for river runners of the future.
The following century saw the construction of two major dams on the Colorado which sandwich the canyon in between. At the bottom of the Grand Canyon, 65 miles beyond Pierce Ferry (mile 277) is the mighty Hoover Dam (half in Nevada, half in Arizona). An absolute engineering marvel, it was completed in 1936. Its 17 water-driven generators are a major producer of electric power in the region. The dam also supplies water for irrigation, flood control for Arizona and California and has created the formation of Lake Meade which provides habitats for fish and wildlife and supports recreational activities.
At the top of the Canyon, near Page, Arizona and about fifteen miles above Lee's Ferry (mile 0) is the Glen Canyon Dam. Its construction was completed in 1966, and it took another 14 years for picturesque Glen Canyon to fill up with water creating Lake Powell (yes, named after the Major). Besides spinning electrical generators with its outflow through the dam, the Bureau of Reclamation (who runs these dams) regulates the flow to ensure an equitable distribution of water to the seven states of both the upper and lower Colorado basins. With these dams (and others), millions of people came to rely on the Colorado River for municipal water supply, hydropower production, vast agricultural needs, recreation, fish and wildlife habitat, and other benefits.
However, it is also this water management system that is responsible for "taming" the Colorado River as it would no longer be capable of the extreme high flows and flooding that it had experienced for eons. Some believe that the daily cycling of flow of the Colorado through the Glen Canyon Dam (rather than its natural flow rate) is detrimental to the habitats of certain wildlife. As such, the dams on the Colorado have experienced decades of protests and lawsuits from groups such as the Sierra Club and others. That's where Martin Litton comes into the picture. Martin, born in 1917, flew troop gliders into Normandy and Holland during World War II. At an early age, he read the chronicles of John Wesley Powell and became mesmerized by the wonders of the west. After the war, he became a maverick writer for the Los Angeles Times tackling environmental issues in California and elsewhere. He wrote no-holds-barred articles and mercilessly criticized those who threatened still-standing pockets of majestic wonder. To him, Californians were destroying this incredible inherited landscape without realizing it. He was relentless and uncompromising in his quest to save the environment. In January 1963, when the Bureau of Reclamation proposed the construction of the Marble Canyon and Bridge Canyon Dams within the Grand Canyon itself, Litton was solicited by David Brower, Sierra Club Executive Director to help in the fight against them. Litton took the bait.
To many, the construction of these dams represented the desecration of America’s finest cathedral. That spring, Litton and a small group of “dories” (flat-bottomed wooden boats with high sides) took off from Lee's Ferry with a writer and two photographers. The resulting book, “Time and the River Flowing” was sent to all members of Congress. A media blitz ensued in publications such as Life, Newsweek, the New York Times, Washington Post, etc. The public outcry was thunderous. Even elementary school student magazine “My Weekly Reader” printed articles against the dams. After years of battle, the final version of the bill regarding the larger Arizona water project was issued in 1968 with the two dams removed from the agenda. During the interim years, Litton fell in love with the Grand Canyon and the river that ran through it. Further, he became obsessed with the wooden dories that he saw as simple, dependable and charming. In 1969 he left the publication business and in 1971 formed the river runner service of Grand Canyon Dories. He ran his business for decades and would be the only outfit on the Colorado River to use wooden boats. Although the Marble Canyon and Bridge Canyon dams were stopped, the Colorado was still not the river it once was. But, if only for a brief while, that was all about to change.
***
Kenton Grua was born in 1950 in Salt Lake City, Utah. As a young teen, he used an army surplus raft to go on solo river trips in his area. He was an expert boatman by the time he graduated high school. He landed a job in 1969 as a river guide in the Grand Canyon, commanding his own rig after only a single training run. During his first few seasons, he began to notice Litton’s dories on the river and became intrigued with their elegance, not to mention the duct tape that held them together. He eventually approached Martin Litton for a job and was hired on the spot. Grua was short and wiry, maybe 5ft, 6 inches. He was all muscle, quick, energetic and slept little. Kenton became completely obsessed with the Grand Canyon and its river – hiking where nobody had hiked, exploring where nobody had explored and experiencing everything the canyon had to offer. He was also strongly opinionated about the way that things should be done on river trips, talking the ears off all of his co-workers. You either loved Kenton Grua or you found him extremely annoying. His reputation on reading the river and experience in the canyon became legendary. Whether you liked it or not, Grua’s presence on any given river trip had to be factored into everyone’s plans. Hence, his nickname became “The Factor”.
During his numerous trips down the Colorado, Grua began thinking about backpacking through the Grand Canyon for its entire length and began scouting his path near the water’s edge. His first attempt in the fall of 1971 was cut short after he stepped on a cactus and ended up with a foot infection. The second attempt was in the spring of 1977. He had stored food at various locations along his planned path on the south side of the Colorado. During his journey, he discovered many ancient Pueblo ruins including pit ovens and granary rooms. He reached the end of the Grand Canyon on April 4, 1977, exactly five weeks after he had begun. Estimating that he had walked about 600 miles, Grua became the first person in recorded history to walk the entire length of the Grand Canyon.
One record was not enough for Kenton Grua, however. In June 1951, brothers Jim and Bob Rigg had set a water speed record down the canyon of 52 hours and 41 minutes in a wooden boat. By the end of the 70’s, nobody could row a dory through the canyon with the same passion, energy and precision as Grua. He and his fellow river runners contemplated breaking the record realizing that the Rigg’s brothers advantage of a river flow of 40,000 cubic feet per second (cfs) hadn’t been seen in fifteen years. So, Grua planned and waited.
The perfect “storm” presented itself in the winter of 1983. The El Nino superstorm moved across the Pacific and hit the California coast on January 22. By the end of the month, it had drenched the Sierra Nevada with torrential downpours and dumped up to 19 feet of snow in some areas of the Rockies. Kenton Grua watched anxiously. The spring runoff, underestimated by authorities, created the “Colorado River Flood of 1983” – one of the worst floods in recorded history. The Glen Canyon Dam now faced its ultimate test. During March, Lake Powell rose by one inch a day. On June 2, the first set of dam spillway gates were opened. Workers there added 4 by 8 sheets of plywood to the top of other gates to prevent overflow. Record amounts of flow passed through the spillways. Engineers were flown in to assess the condition of the dam and the damage that was occurring inside the spillways. Flow into the Colorado was increased to 60,000 and then 70,000 cfs. Now, Kenton Grua saw his chance.
On the river, havoc was created by the dramatic increase in flow. The National Park Service dropped flyers into the canyon from helicopters warning river goers to be cautious and camp high. On June 25, a man died at Crystal Rapids (mile 98) after his raft flipped and all its passengers were thrown into the raging river. Crystal is the second most challenging rapid on the river and its character had changed entirely with the increased flow. The Park Service closed the river to all pending river excursions and helicoptered a ranger to Crystal Rapid who would direct all passengers walk around Crystal while the guides would take the rafts through.
Grua had long ago chosen two premier fellow river guides for his speed run attempt – 49-yea- old Rudi Petschek and 33-year-old Steve Reynolds. The boat was Grua’s own beloved Emerald Mile – specially modified by him for this attempt. On the night of June 25, Grua, Petschek and Reynolds (unaware of the conditions at Crystal, but aware of the river closure) arrived at Lee’s Ferry with the Emerald Mile in tow. The parking lot was full of stranded river runners. The three pushed off at precisely 11 p.m. and began their epic journey.
The river flow was 72,000 cfs. It was the old river now and the trio’s only chance of experiencing it before it would be limited by the dams. They brought a small amount of food and two large battery-operated lamps. Each rowed for about 20 minutes and then they switched. By 4 a.m., they were at Mile 47.
The first rays of sun appeared over the rim at about 6 a.m. (Mile 65). They had to plan their navigation of each rapid much faster than they had ever done before. Campers who were awake stared in astonishment at the passing dory.
At Crystal, Ranger John Thomas had been waving boats over into the parking area so that the passengers could disembark and start the walk around Crystal when he noticed the three-man dory rounding the bend. The trio made no eye contact with the Ranger and individually wondered how much trouble they were going to get in. The Ranger immediately recognized them and what they were up to. After a series of conflicting inner thoughts, Thomas just walked away. He then walked to a spot where he could see them navigate Crystal.
Unaware of the change in the rapid, the three found themselves on a much more dangerous line than normal and heading for a wall of water between two and three stories high. The Emerald Mile began to scale the wall with Grua leaning forward and rowing like mad. The boat went straight up in the air, spun and flipped. Once in the water, Grua and Petschek were able to grab onto the overturned boat. Reynolds had been sucked under the water with a gash on his forehead. He finally made his way to the Emerald Mile and all three worked to right the boat. When they did, they collected themselves, surveyed the damage, bandaged Reynold’s head and stored the soggy food.
Now an hour behind schedule, they set out again while a Park Service helicopter hovered overhead. Second thoughts now took over their minds. Should they stop? When the chopper disappeared, they kept going. They made it to Lava Falls (mile 179), the most challenging rapid in the Grand Canyon, while still light. The increase in flow had actually evened it out. Unlike Crystal, they made it through unscathed. The three then prepared for another night of rowing and guessing. They pulled over at 10 p.m. for a one-hour nap. They awoke at 1 a.m., angry and still fatigued. At 5 a.m., Grua and Reynolds passed out. The rowing now fell to the 49-year-old old Petschek. Grua awoke at 8 a.m. and took over the oars. They were traveling slower and slower now–completely exhausted. Finally, at 11:38 a.m., they crossed the finish line. The Emerald Mile had completed the 277 miles in 36 hours, 38 minutes and 29 seconds, beating the Riggs brothers by more than 16 hours!
If you want to learn more about the Grand Canyon, the Colorado River or this speed run, I highly recommend this book. As previously mentioned, the upper section of 188 miles is much closer to the real wrath and true nature of the Colorado River. Of course, we are now planning on going back to the river to do the six-day, first 188 miles—just this time, not in August!
Brian Vangor is the vice-president of the Town of Carmel Historical Society
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