Colorado River: Gooseneck

October 22, 2015

Day 4

Around 8 AM we woke up to a flooded tent, our feet lying in a pool of water. Our sleeping bags, pants, and socks were drenched. It was still raining and so we sat in the tent, cooked breakfast, and waited. Around 11 AM our butts had enough of sitting and wouldn't let us sit anymore, and so we decided to put on our ponchos, tear down camp, and set off on the river while the rain was still falling. I felt cold, wet, miserable. Here it was raining yet again, as it had every single day of the trip. You would think the desert was turning into a rain forest. But soon the beauty of the river became so overwhelming that the misery vanished. All around us, the cliffs were glimmering with silver. Ribbons of waterfalls roared and plummeted everywhere. We followed great blue herons, who were using the rain as a good opportunity to fish, for about a mile. Soon the sun peeked out, and I shouted for joy as I rapidly paddled toward the sunlight. Never before on this trip had I appreciated the warmth of the sun so much. Hikers above at Dead Horse Point looked below and listened to our excitement with amusement. With the highest part of the park looming above us, we stopped for lunch on an island and hung out everything to dry on some tamarisk and willow. We were on the Gooseneck section of the river. Carrie, a friend of Connie's, floated by in a raft with four friends and recognized me. They had just put in that morning at Potash and were heading for Hite. We heard great news from them - the rain would be over with after some brief showers tonight. Later on, around the bend of the Gooseneck, we met two couples on a motor boat. They approached our small rafts with curiosity and amazement, almost so close that they could have hit us. They asked where we were going and Freebird said with a grin, "the Grand Canyon." They all thought he was serious. One man's jaw dropped! We floated past their camp as the sun was setting and chose to stay around the bend on an island occupied by lots of geese and roly polys. A fire was made to dry my sleeping bag just before that brief shower hit. Dinner was cooked beside the tent, and then we rekindled the fire and gazed at the stars until bed time. Someone from that camp upriver played a trumpet and then a flute. The melodies floated in the air down the river and serenaded us.

Dead Horse Point.

Freebird placing out some things to dry as Carrie and friends float by.