Grand Canyon — Day 10: Lava Falls

Monday, September 10

This morning the mood is different. There’s the usual friendly banter over coffee and breakfast. But as we pack the rafts and kayaks the tone is quieter, more subdued. Each of us is thinking about the giant rapid waiting for us.

Before we launch from our campsite near Stairway Canyon, trip leader Steve Mace gathers the group. With the swirling sounds of the Colorado River as a backdrop, Mace briefs us about the day ahead. Then he reads this poem* to us, which is absolutely perfect for the moment.

Certainty

I say I want to know without question

I want certainty

There’s security in that

But it’s in those moments of uncertainty when I feel most alive

That feeling of bliss doesn’t come from safety, security, or comfort

It doesn’t come from that air-conditioned room, that feather bed or that nice car

No, that feeling of bliss, of freedom, of true joy is much harder to obtain

Find it on a cloudless night sky in Granite Park, waiting for a moon that never comes

Find it on a snowy peak, cold wind burning the lungs, cool air recharging the soul

Find it in that moment when you take one last breath, peel out of the eddy and commit fully to the challenge ahead

Without doubt

Without question

Find it in that moment, that sliver of time when you forget about all the things that could go wrong, or what people will think

It’s in that moment of metamorphosis

When fear turns to focus, and consequence to reward

Without fear there is nothing to overcome

Without uncertainty there is no room for growth

Embrace the fear and find your moment

There’s eight miles of river before our Team River Runner 12-day Grand Canyon expedition reaches Lava Falls. Along the way the river is mostly flat, punctuated only by a warm-up rapid called Gateway (rated a 3) that helps breaks the tension as we limber our hips and shoulders. Everyone seems loose enough but there’s less joking around as we anticipate the challenge ahead. A few paddlers have already decided to ride a raft once we stop to scout Lava Falls, rated a “10” on the Grand Canyon scale of 1 – 10.

My mind is made up. I will run it but I don’t know what the outcome will be. Will I stay upright? There’s a good chance I will not. Will I swim? I try to convince myself that whatever happens I am not coming out of my boat!

And what about Steve Baskis, the blind veteran in my pod of four? What assistance will Eric, Big Mike and I be able to give him in this giant rapid? Will he be able to hear us all the way through? How quickly will we be able to get to him for a possible rescue? These thoughts and concerns have been with us ever since the beginning of this trip. But today as we approach Lava Falls, the pressure ratchets up another notch.

Above Lava Falls we eddy out on river right. We hear the tremendous roar even though we can’t see the mighty rapid beyond the river’s horizon line. Mace leads the guides and safety boaters on a hike up the trail to scout the rapid and talk about possible lines. From this vantage point it looks enormous.

To give you an idea of why Lava Falls is legendary, here are excerpts from one of the best descriptions I’ve come across. This is from Erik Weihenmayer’s book No Barriers:

The Colorado River running through the Grand Canyon is known for big iconic rapids, and the biggest of them all is Lava Falls, a storm of energy that churns, tumbles, and explodes in its headlong rush toward the Sea of Cortez. … As you enter, you set your angle, approaching from the right, but not too far right because fierce upsurges of water are piling against the right shore and boiling back underneath your boat, whipping you like a monster’s tail toward the left. You paddle furiously only a few inches to the left of the eddy line separating the bullet trajectory of the river and pulsing boils. You fight the spin because just to your left is the notorious Ledge Hole, a chunk of rock under the surface spanning almost half the width of the river. Water pours over the lip and collapses under its own weight, recirculating in a maelstrom of white water like an enormous washing machine. It’s the most feared place in all the 277 miles of the Grand Canyon, because it will suck you down and hold you there for a long time. Squeak by the Ledge Hole and you drop off the horizon into the entry waves, two walls of water, the right being the biggest and coming at you in the shape of a huge rooster tail. Next, you line up for the V-Wave, two massive lateral waves that slam together. You need to strike the V slightly left of center and punch through with everything you have; otherwise you’ll be launched skyward and cartwheeled into a back flip. If you manage to bust through, you turn left, angling out into the river to avoid the Cheese Grater Rock, a wicked peninsula of jagged black basalt that will tear apart anything that comes into contact with it. You then square off against the Big Kahuna waves, a thundering series of whitecaps over ten feet tall that break over you, crushing you under hundreds of pounds of liquid force. Finally you ride the tail waves, boils and whirlpools like a roller coaster toward the exit of Lava.

Sounds like fun, right?

After a seemingly endless amount of time looking down toward Lava Falls with Mace and the other guides, I’m getting restless. The more we stand here and think about it, the more it works on my nerves. I understand what Mace is saying about the line, but like the previous rapids we stopped to scout, I know it’s going to look much different when we’re down there in our kayaks and we’re about to drop in. I just want to get down there and do it.

I overhear Eric tell Mace that he’s decided not to run Lava Falls. Eric says he’s just not feeling it. He’s been under a lot of pressure serving as Steve’s primary kayak guide these past nine-and-a-half days. It’s hard enough finding your own way through these powerful rapids and turbulent whirlpools. It’s even more stressful when you’re responsible for leading others. And I’m sure Eric’s swim at Crystal four days ago is still on his mind. I’ve felt the pressure too; always trying to maintain a consistent position behind Steve so I’m close enough to assist but not too close that I risk crashing into him. Finding my own way without the concern of looking after someone would certainly be easier. But that’s not why we’re here.

On our hike back down to the boats, Eric takes Big Mike and me aside to let us know. I tell him I understand and support his decision 100 percent. Back at the boats, Eric lets Steve know. Upon hearing the news, Steve announces that he won’t run it either, not without Eric.

Travis and Kathy have already decided they’ll ride out Lava Falls on a raft, so among our five blind vets, that leaves Lonnie and Brian planning to paddle it.

There was never a doubt whether Lonnie would paddle Lava Falls. As one of the most experienced and skilled kayakers on this trip — sighted or blind — Lonnie Bedwell has paddled the Canyon three times previously. In 2013 he was the first blind person to do so. On his second trip in 2014, he accompanied Erik Weihenmayer, already famous as the first blind person to climb Mount Everest. For their joint Grand Canyon accomplishment, Lonnie and Erik were named National Geographic’s Adventurers of the Year in 2015.

When we arrive back at the beached kayaks above Lava Falls, there’s an intense debate going between Brian, members of his pod and other Team River Runner leaders. Most are urging Brian not to kayak Lava Falls, feeling there are too many variables that might go badly for the blind, below-the-knee amputee. Throughout the trip Brian has had several capsizes but has shown extraordinary ability to keep calm and hold his breath while waiting for a bow rescue. And now Brian is insistent. I hear him emphatically say he needs to do this for himself and for disadvantaged kids back in Chicago who look up to him as a role model. After several minutes of discussion, a decision is reached. With close guidance from his guides and safety boaters, Brian will run Lava Falls.

Finally, the paddlers launch their kayaks into the eddy above the rapid. Several of the most experienced boaters go first so they can set safety at various points down the rapid. Lonnie and his primary guide Russell go next. Once they leave the eddy we can no longer see them, so we won’t know how well each one does until we all reach the bottom.

I line up behind Craig Larcenaire and Joe Mornini, with Jeff Vannoy behind me. Surrounded by these experienced boaters, I feel I’m in as good a spot as I can be.

“Find it in that moment when you take one last breath, peel out of the eddy and commit fully to the challenge ahead”

— from Certainty by Steve Mace

We start out in good shape. We’re aiming to drop over the horizon line just right of the Ledge Hole. But after passing the Ledge Hole, the current pushes me left. I barely cross the left edge of the fast-moving current when I hit the first entry wave head on, spinning me around. Now I’m careening backward. I stay upright for a few seconds but I know I’m headed toward an even larger wave. The second entry wave knocks me over. Up-side-down in the water, I instinctively go to my set-up position and wait for an opportunity to roll up. The thunder of the crashing waves is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. I must be in the grips of the V-Wave. Finally I sense a slight lull so I drive up with my right knee and sweep with my paddle. I’m up long enough to catch a breath before getting knocked over again. This time I’m more patient as I ride out the big waves. Up again, I find myself facing upriver and see Jeff riding the waves like a pro. As he pulls up beside me, I prematurely celebrate. Lava Falls isn’t done with me yet. I forget about the wave train yet to come. I lose my balance and go over again. After rolling up this time, I’m finally out of the rapid. I shout over to Jeff, “I wish I could have seen that!” Later I relate my story to Steve. He laughs and responds, “I know the feeling.”

YOUTUBE: https://youtu.be/8PEFH0opEes

Big Mike and Lonnie are cheering me on from an eddy on river left so I paddle over to join them and wait for the rest of the kayakers still negotiating the rapid. We narrate the action for Lonnie as we watch Brian’s pod emerge. Brian capsizes in the V-Wave but after a successful bow rescue he flips up without a swim! We all go crazy, hooting and hollering  from the sidelines.

A few hundred yards downriver we pass through Lower Lava Rapid (5). After that it’s time to celebrate. The entire team lands on a wide sandy beach unofficially known as Tequila Beach where, appropriately enough, a bottle of tequila is passed around. Some of us kayaked and some of us rode rafts but we all ran Lava Falls without an injury or even a swim. It’s simply an amazing experience.

Following the apprehension leading up to Lava Falls and the subsequent euphoria after running it, the next 12 miles on the river are a slow grind. The wind is blowing in our faces at 100⁰F and on this section of the Colorado River there are only a few small rapids to help move us along. Our party of 32 kayakers and rafters is stretched out so I can see only a few others ahead and behind me. I’m basically alone on the river with my thoughts. Satisfied I was able to paddle all these miles. Happy my sore ribs didn’t keep me from getting a good night’s sleep last night. (I loaded up on Benadryl.) Proud of our group effort to guide five blind vets all this way without a serious or even moderate injury.

Around 3:30 p.m. our tenth day on the river comes to an end when we reach the campsite at 192 Mile Canyon. After setting up there’s time for a quick nap. After what seems like only three minutes (actually about 20), I awaken from a deep sleep to the sound of our traveling band; Steve on bongo with others joining in. Poking my head out of my tent, I see others snoozing or just relaxing on their paco pads down on the beach. Our diligent Azra crew has set up the snack table and is busy preparing dinner. I walk down to the ad hoc kitchen to offer some help. It’s a great evening. With the biggest of the big rapids behind us, everyone seems happily tired and relaxed.

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*Months later as I write this blog post, I email Steve Mace to ask for the text and the author of the poem he read to us that morning so I can publish it here. “It’s my poem,” he replies. I’m blown away but I shouldn’t be. It’s another example of the remarkable talents, skills, professions, life journeys and experiences that came together for this trip and forged into a team at the bottom of the Canyon. More than a team. A family.

NEXT: DAY 11 – A SENSE OF ACCOMPLISHMENT