Stress Fades as Linda Ballou Rafts Desolation Canyon, Utah, Why She calls it “The Green River Affair”

By Linda Ballou, NABBW’s Adventure Travel Associate

“Even the rocks, which seem to lie dumb and dead as they grow warm with the sunshine along the silent shore, thrill to memories of past events connected with the lives of my people.” — Chief Seattle, 1867, in his letter to the U.S. Government

Desolation Canyon, Green River July 2023. Photo courtesy Cindi Stephans of OARS (www.oars.com). 

Soothed by the murmur of the Green River as it continued to carve the jagged battlements framing Desolation Canyon, I felt the stress of civilization slipping away as I drifted to sleep in my tent. Waking to the cascading lilt of the Canyon Wren, famous for its loud, echoing song that bounces off the steep canyon walls, made my escape complete. The rafting and hiking journey with OARS Whitewater Rafting began with a scenic flight from Moab over a vast, barren plateau carved by the Green as it snakes its way to join the Colorado River.

Moab, of course, is a destination in itself. It’s the gateway to the massive red rock formations in Arches National Park, Southwest, and Canyonlands National Park with its mesas and buttes carved by the Green and Colorado Rivers. Not to mention Moab’s awesome Native American rock art, dinosaur tracks, and the Museum of Moab which includes dinosaur bones and archaeological artifacts. Flying over Moab, I got a bird’s-eye view of the largest, roadless wilderness area remaining in the Southwest. Endless miles of desert gouged with craters and mountains that look like pinched pie crust stretch to the horizon.

After a bumpy landing on a dirt airstrip on the canyon’s rim, we stepped into the arid desert. My group of thirteen seasoned outdoor enthusiasts and four guides trekked down to Sand Wash Boat Ramp. It is the only takeout point for the 89-mile mama-bear run through the isolated canyon. Once aboard the flotilla of four rafts piled with supplies for the six days on the river, we headed out. The first 25 miles are flat water, so the first day of the float is motorized.

Beautiful towers in Gray Canyon. Photo courtesy Linda Ballou.

Immediately upon entering the canyon, you are flanked by ragged towers in an endless array of striated layers of stone. Your imagination conjures visions of pharaohs, Indian chiefs, and more as you drift beneath cliffs. Our guides helped us read the rocks, revealing changes to our planet over millennia.

In 1869 Major John Wesley Powell, a one-armed Civil War veteran and geologist, led the first geographic exploration of  this wild canyon as part of his expedition to explore the Green and Colorado Rivers, including the Grand Canyon. His crew included ten men traveling in four wooden boats loaded with food and scientific instruments. He named it Desolation Canyon because his men were starving for fresh vegetables and greens, and there was no hint of agriculture to be found. Had he arrived somewhere between 800-1250 CE, he would have met the Fremont people, a pre-Columbian culture named after Utah’s Fremont River, who blended hunting and gathering with crops of maize and squash to sustain themselves.

Unlike the Ancestral Puebloans of Mesa Verde fame and the incredible Pueblo people who built Chaco in New Mexico, the Fremont people left no structures behind. They told their story in pictographs and petroglyphs etched into the canyon walls. Our first hike took us to a wall of pictographs etched onto a panel beneath Mushroom Rock. Ute Indians came to this canyon to hunt game. They mingled with the Fremont people and, over time, became dominant in the canyon. The Fremont people, like the ancestral Puebloans, were lost in time around 1250.

A panel of Pictographs at Fremont. Linda Ballou photo.

Today, the left side of the river as you are gliding down the canyon is part of the Uintah and Ouray Reservation which covers over 4.5 million acres in northeastern Utah. The tribes tried to create a tourist resort, but the effort failed because of the canyon’s extreme isolation. Even today, there is only one road into the canyon floor. There have been attempts by ranchers and homesteaders to develop the canyon’s sandy bottom, but there has been no permanent human habitation for over 40 years. What Powell saw as a desolate wilderness has become a sanctuary for wildlife including bighorn sheep, mule deer, elk, and a healthy population of bears.

While enjoying a breakfast of bacon, eggs, and fresh fruit, we were startled by what sounded like a dynamite explosion. Just yards downstream, a giant slab of rock broke away from the top of a towering cliff, generating a rockslide. It was clear we were just trinkets in Mother Nature’s toybox. On this first day out, we were hit by a monsoonal downpour. After the 20-minute deluge, we became acutely aware of celestial movements—brilliant mushrooming clouds in an azure sky shifting quickly to moody gray monsters. Lightning shafts signaled a deep rumble and now rocks are on the move! Nature is big here!

Inflatable kayaks ready to go. Linda Ballou photo.

Morning discussion centered on who would take on the rapids in an inflatable kayak. You could paddle as a team in the double or take the world on by yourself in the solo option. The 63 rapids on this run range from wimpy Class 2s to demanding 3s. It was inspiring to see 65- to 80-year-olds eager to man their own craft through the rapids. Proof you don’t have to stop living a full life if you take the time to condition yourself for the long term.

I liked sitting in the front of the big rafts, inviting a cooling splash from the rapids. The guides imparted historical tidbits about the canyon as we drifted past them. We learned that Butch Cassidy and his gang were the Robin Hoods of the West. With a pot of gold, they bailed out a rancher who was unable to pay when his mortgage came due. Then, the next day, they held up the banker on his way out of the canyon and reclaimed the treasure. Or so the story goes. Moonshiners thrived here during the Prohibition years, and there was once a ranch at Rock Creek with a herd of prize-winning Hereford cows.

Camp at Rock Creek was a broad sandy beach at the base of the tallest buttress on the river. At 6,000 feet, it tops the walls of the Grand Canyon. Rusty red, varnished with black patina, it cast an ominous shadow. I loved the hike up the canyon beside Rock Creek. This region is a hard place to make a living, so this canyon with a year-round source of clear water must have been attractive to the Fremont and Ute peoples.

OATS Guide Ethon in Rock Creek side Canyon.

It was a long walk to another petroglyph panel, so I opted to meander back along the shady creek, stopping to snap photos along the way. It is OARS policy that none of the outings are mandatory, and if you need to turn around, a guide will stay with you. I had a lovely walk-and-talk with guide Ethon, who seemed to enjoy the slowdown as much as I did. The next day, he led us on an early-morning hike through a wheat-colored meadow. The pungent scent of sage floated on the refreshing cool air. The easy march took us to a majestic arch hidden in a mountain cleft.

On day three, while enjoying what had become our routine happy hour to relax and share the day, an ominous dark cloud began to billow on the far rim. It mushroomed into brilliant high white cumulus clouds. Soon it merged into what looked like an atomic explosion. The white tops bubbled into fast-growing cauliflower forms. This dark, foreboding event was sparked by a lightning-strike wildfire that was allowed to burn itself out. It dissipated, floating off in sheer curtain wisps within an hour. Nature is big here!

About two-thirds of the way down the river, you leave Desolation Canyon and enter Gray Canyon. The scene opens to wider vistas. The valley floor is broader with sand-colored towers set further back from the river. An enormous amphitheater with purple ramparts appears. This signals that we are closing in on our final destination and somehow it feels sad. Drifting through an ever-changing panorama, watching nature’s changing moods, will soon be over. Still, it will be grand to have a shower and a clean shirt to wear after a week on this river hidden from time.

Linda Ballou invites you to raft the Green River.

I was on the Green River in August. The temps hovered around 95. The water level is lower, so there are numerous broad sandy beaches and plentiful campsites in the shade of cottonwood trees. There are fewer rafters this time of year. We shared the river with one other company. In spring and early summer, the temps are cooler, and the water is higher, with bigger whitewater. There is competition for good campsites, but the river is never as busy as the Grand Canyon in peak season.

OARS Whitewater Rafting provides a sleep kit, a tent, and all transport to and from the river from Moab. After manning the oars for hours a day, leading us on hikes, and delivering three scrumptious meals, our guides brought out their guitars and serenaded us under the stars. They were wonderful, and all the equipment was in good shape.

Note: The steep, rocky hike down to the canyon floor from the airstrip is optional. You may ride down in the van that delivers the group’s bags to the Sand Wash Boat Ramp. By the way, if you’re intrigued by my mention of Moab, I was, too. I’ll be writing more about that next month.

Linda Ballou Freelance Writer

Linda's mission is to experience as many beautiful places on our planet as she can before they are no more. Travel tales relating her experiences while kayaking, horseback riding, sailing, birding and hiking about the globe have appeared in numerous national magazines. She had great fun collecting travel stories, and profiles of people she met in “naturally high places” for her book, Lost Angel Walkabout-One Traveler’s Tales. Her latest book Lost Angel Unleashed is the third book in her Lost Angel Trilogy

Go to LostAngelAdventures.com for more adventures.

For more about Linda’s novels and media offerings go to. www.LindaBallouAuthor.com