Kayak in the Grand Canyon

“The group consisted of 16 people, including me. There were nine other veterans, all post-9/11, and six support-crew members. Three of the veterans were my guides. They are phenomenal kayakers. One was in front of me, and the other two were behind me. They just gave simple voice commands and tried to line me up with where I needed to be. The guy in front would pick the line we were going to take, and he would be yelling, “On me! On me!” because the rapids were so loud. And I just chased that sound. And he would give me directions like “Hard right” or “Paddle hard” or “Paddle easy.” The simpler we kept it, the better. If I couldn’t hear the lead guy, the guys behind me would yell the commands. At times, some of the lateral waves coming off the Canyon walls would literally knock me 30 feet across the river.”

“On Crystal Rapid, I flipped outside down and got worked over like I was in a washing machine on steroids. I was starting to run out of breath, so I pulled up enough to get a breath of air and went back under. Finally, I managed to roll back over, and we went on down through Crystal. That was the first time I felt the absolute power of the river. I’m glad I didn’t have to swim. But around that time, I really started to feel like we could really kayak this river.”

“Simultaneously, the wind that I had failed to read about arrived with an attitude and tormented everyone on the river. It lasted all day. At some points I would easily blow upstream had I not paddled to shore and just roped my boat along. [...] The wind did not let up and I spent a miserable night at the exposed camp, breathing dirt and wiping powdered river dust out of my eyes. [...] Got up with powdered river dust in my eyes, my teeth, my sleeping bag, my boat. The stuff probably even got inside my dry bag, that’s how fine it was.”