Brown Betty

Preparing to meet Brown Betty. Photo by David Lansing.

Midmorning the character of the river changes dramatically. The canyon narrows and the river bed is pinched between massive boulders that loom up in the frothing water like the backs of white elephants.

We have reached the riffles of Cataract Canyon. She—the River Buddha is right; the river definitely feels like an old woman at this point—chatters endlessly as the oarboats rhythmically dance up and down. Before reaching the first rapid—Brown Betty—we pull up on a sandbar and boulder hop along the shore, scouting what’s ahead.

Rapids are rated on a scale of I to X with the lowest rating indicating not much more than an easily negotiated riffle. According to Arlo, a Class VI rapid is pretty much unrunnable unless you’re as crazy as Powell. Of course, everything is relative. Brown Betty may be only a Class III rapid, but it’s named after the cook boat on the 1889 Brown-Stanton expedition that broke up and sank near here. And just down from Brown Betty, Powell himself found his lead boat, the Emma Dean, swamped, the crew thrown into the river, in a serious mishap that would have ended their expedition if there had been any way for them to get out of there except by river.

Brown Betty speeds the heartbeat and shortens the breath. I plant myself on the prow of our oarboat beside the River Buddha who looks quite serene. The nose of Paradise Lost rises up in the face of several feet of white water, then quickly drops, like falling off the edge of the world. Brian and my daughter, riding in the back and holding tightly to the chickie line, fly up in the air, like a reverse bungee jump. Arlo, his sombrero dancing on his head, grunts as he pulls hard on the oars to shift us away from one boulder and into the wash of another. In almost six miles of river, we run ten rapids, none bigger than a Class IV, before reaching a sandy beach near Y Canyon, our camp for the night. Everyone is breathless and sparkly and pumped full of adrenaline. After days of listless drifting, the river has brought us all to life.

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1 comment

  1. sonia’s avatar

    Wow…sounds a lil intense. Seems like u been on the river a long time now.

    smiles…

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