Colorado River - Cataract Canyon 2024

Most of this float is on flat water sandwiching 17 miles of class II-IV rapids. The water level ranged from 4800-5300 cfs. The rugged canyon walls stretch high above the river almost the entire distance.

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Cataract Canyon of the Colorado River float October 2024

Rafters: Brian Cleary, Stephan, and Lance

Kayakers: Eric Cajolet, Ryan Dusil, and Nick Kot

Canoeist: Alan Whittern

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In preparation for our departure today from the Front Range, I deferred to Nick and Alan in the trip planning. I filled in equipment gaps or the things I had. As one of two rafts to support the three kayaks and one canoe, I conveyed the availability of freighter space.

It's of interest that most boaters lean toward self-supporting. Even the kayaks designed to haul gear require James T. Webb telescope packing methods. Every morning kayakers can be seen with heads buried in boats and their butts and legs sprawled out as they reach deep into the pointy ends of their boats seeking to replace any vestige of internal boat volume with food or clothing or sleeping bag. It's a process that Amazon with their massive boxes filled with bubble wrap would be mystified by. Having been there on a multi-day river trip in my kayak with my poop tube strapped to the outside out of a lack of internal space and fear of leaking, the space afforded by a raft feels like a fluffed downy pillow and quilt.

Eric arrived at Alan's place in his 'project' Miata. Fortunately Nick was transporting his kayak because it would take some creativity to do so on the small car.

Alan graciously gave Eric and myself space in his 'man cave' garage to store our vehicles during our trip float down the Colorado river.

We piled gear into Alan's camper strapped into the bed of his new GMC Sierra pickup. Alan took the helm for the six hour drive to the Willow Springs Designated camping east of Hwy 191 in Utah.

The Willow Springs camping region has many scattered rustic sites actively under development. I was surprised at how many campers and RVs were there given the time of year. Signs with scan codes requested payment of $15/night/vehicle. Most folks arrived on or after dusk. Some ATVs and motorcycles zipped about. Port-a-toilets were scattered about and the main road recently had road base added.

It was here that the entire group was together for the first time. Some of us pitched tents and others slept out under the dark skies. This turned out to be the coolest night of the trip probably in the 50's.

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Fires in the Wasatch Mountains northwest of Vernal Utah spewing smoke turned the morning sunrise into a deep rose red as the fiery ball rose over the La Sal Mountains.

Alan made breakfast in his camper for the groups. Brian's wife, Yvonne, and her friend, Julie, joined us in our caravan to the Potash boat ramp. The two ladies would be our shuttle drivers. This saved us $900 of commercial shuttle fees and gave them the opportunity to do some local sightseeing.

Once at the Potash boat ramp on the Colorado River we proceeded to assemble boats and pack gear. While we occupied a portion of the boat ramp a Tex's Riverways jet boat arrived offloading passengers before jetting around to the boat ramp to be loaded onto a trailer. Their shuttle service will put a dent in your wallet.

We set off in our separate boats to begin the next six day river trip. A couple of themes emerged for this trip: abundant male testosterone and seamless cohesive teamwork. The word for the trip was 'fucktard' (or 'fuckpuss' or just 'fuck' as a noun, verb, object, and adjective) compliments of Stephan. I perceived that everyone pulled their weight, took care of their own stuff, and assisted with the group chores all done spontaneously. I appreciated folks efforts to keep the groover clean. Paramount was the focus on each other's safety and enjoyment on the river.

After about an hour we slowly tied the boats together in order to utilize the 2.3Hp gasoline motor Nick had borrowed from Steve Levinger. This stretch of river from Potash to the North Wash takeout involves about 81 miles of flat water and 17 miles of rapids. Yes, we were on this voyage to see the canyon, but, well, confessing, to primarily experience the class II through IV rapids of Cataract Canyon. Nobody was particularly keen on rowing the flat water with it's wear on joints and risk of upriver winds.

The river started out about 5300 cfs ending at about 4800 cfs. There were the occasional sandbars to be avoided. A few times the rafts had to be pushed over shallow sections to find the channel.

Only an hour into the motor puttering away, the propeller shear pin broke. Brian and Nick took the lead and about an hour to replace it with the single spare pin. From then on it became a team effort to avoid the prop hitting anything. Alan focused on the bow alerting the motorman to possible shallow sections and the motorman and oarsman redirected the flotilla to avoid them.

A destination goal for the day had been to reach the confluence of the Green and Colorado rivers. The speed generated by the outboard motor in an effort to conserve fuel meant we fell far short.

We past the place featured in the movie Thelma and Louise where the two drove off a dramatic cliff. A number of people could be seen looking down onto the river from the geological bench. A few river turns and we entered Canyonlands National Park which includes Island in the Sky District.

Some folks in our group pounded down beers. The group was getting a tiny bit edging with the long day of sitting and motoring. This section of the river is predominantly lined with tamarisk and few sandy beaches. With the light fading fast we found an excellent spot near Lathrop Canyon and pulled over to camp. The campsite had a convenient rock outcrop to pullout next to. I found myself eating dinner in the dark by headlamp.

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I awoke before 7AM to our first full day on the Colorado river. The sun, still below the horizon, provided a soft dull indirect filling gray light across the camp, river, and canyon walls. The air was still and only the most subtle gurgling sound of the passing water could be heard. Sharply like an alarm clock springing to life, one bird of a small gaggle of Canadian geese flying in formation honked out loudly as they flew up river past our camp. The others soon responded in honking leaving me wondering what they were conversing about. Nature's alarm clock rousing everyone except Eric.

As most of us were finishing our breakfast, Eric remained well asleep. Suddenly Alan yelled out for Eric to wake up. It had the intended effect as he wandered down to the main camp shortly thereafter.

The previous night someone had volunteered to set up the groover on a prominent ledge overlooking the river. We all took our turns in full view of all in camp with a full view of the river and canyon. One could only smile with a commendable chuckle for Eric's unabashed independent approach as he mounted the groover butt naked. He commented later that enjoys taking his dumps in the nude. We never bothered to hide the groover for the remainder of the trip. If anybody was shy about wiping in full view, they quickly got over it.

We left the rafts strapped together to utilize the outboard motor for a day of continued flat water.

The first stop was at Indian Creek on river left. A couple hundred meters up this dry creek on the north side are some Puebloan Ruins. They are small. Another motorized group came down the river and Brian asked them if they could spare some gasoline. Our consumption rate suggested we would run out before reaching North Wash. They were happy to oblige. The had four rafts tied together with two 50hp motors and plans to takeout at Bullfrog - about 50 miles from our takeout at North Wash on Lake Powell. It was here that Stephan exhibited his driven infatuation with woman. He pined in an insistent and good natured way over a bikini clad woman on one of the boats for some time after the group headed on down river. This would not be the last time Stephan exuded his rich level of testosterone inspired lust.

We took turns towing to augment the motor and steering the outboard motor.

The canyon becomes narrow as one moves down river. This gives the illusion of the canyon growing deeper. It definitely increases the dramatic views. Once we entered the section of the canyon with the rapids my attention was almost solely focused on the river; the walls of the canyon vanished even beyond my peripheral vision.

The Rivermaps LLC guide records river miles starting from zero at the confluence of the Green and Colorado rivers increasing upriver. Once at the confluence miles count downward on the Colorado river with zero at the Glen Canyon Dam.

Near mile marker 11 the Colorado river makes a dramatic gooseneck turn. Alan and Brian agreed to pilot the boat flotilla the approximate four miles on the river while the rest of us hiked the quarter mile and 300ft elevation gain to cut the gooseneck. We enjoyed some beautiful vistas of the river from the saddle point.

As we approached the confluence, we past a large group with multiple rafts who were looking for a campsite. We motored past them, past the confluence, past a group with what appeared to be rented canoes camped at Upper Spanish Bottom, stopping at the Lower Spanish Bottom camp. This camp on river right as an impressive ~15ft high almost vertical soft cliff from the surface of the water to the camp. Somebody had graciously cut steps into the cliff face. Alan and I climbed up and tied the raft/kayak barge off while we inspected the site. There were plenty of places for tents, but many in the group vetoed the site on the prospect of hauling gear up. Instead we used the outboard motor to ferry across and up river to the mudflat formed at the mouth of Butler Wash or Lens Canyon depending on which maps are being referenced. This became camp two on the small patch of sand we could find on the otherwise muddy plain.

The plain did have these curious bowl features about two feet deep and of varying diameters cut into it. It was in one of these that someone set the groover. The next morning as I finished my business and stood up, the slope of the bowl and the slippery mud almost sent me crashing into the groover as my feet slipped out from underneath me. Fortunately it was just a little mud I had to clean off myself and nothing else!

A short distance down river was another group camping on a nice sandy beach. Music was playing and Stephan felt it his neighborly obligation to wander down and introduce himself. And thus began the almost mythical stories of 'Bliss', a beautiful woman at the camp of varying age enraptured by and in need of Stephan's attention.

This camp also had a resident turkey. It took only a short while before it came over walking amongst the tents and gear looking for food. We tried to discourage it by throwing objects at it, yelling, and casually chasing it. That worked well until the next day while we hiked away from camp for a few hours. The turkey found the unsecured trash bag. It feasted on tasty morsels left on wrappers decorating the beach with trash to greet us upon our return. Yes, in the end, the turkey had the last gobble.

Brian and Stephan assembled the fire pan and enjoyed a fire. Alan played his guitar. Folks chatted around the small fire.

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We broke camp then piled into the cataraft to ferry across the river to Spanish Bottom on river right for the hike up to the Doll House. All of us were in the cataraft ready to launch only to observe Stephan upstream naked taking a morning bath. Someone hollered at him to get in the boat and he responded saying he'd swim across. We waited. He eventually wandered back to camp and then proceeded to casually collect his food and water for the hike. Those of us on the boat collectively snapped and the cataraft was launched - without Stephan. As someone pointed out, he'd had a couple of hours to ready himself and a firm launch time had been set earlier. Stephan did eventually find a dry bag, put his stuff in it, and swam across to join us for the hike.

The Doll House hike from Spanish Bottoms is about a four mile round trip 1000ft elevation gain route. The object took us to an old native granary, views of the Canyonlands, and to marvel at the geological features that give the place its name. We didn't wander over to see the 'maze'. Apparently the spire formation, "dolls", were formed when underlying salt pushed up through cracks in the overlying sandstone.

Brian made the hike and the entire week long trip in bare feet. Seems he inadvertently left his shoes in one of the vehicles at the put in. Being barefoot didn't slow him down one bit over the rocky prickly terrain!

We ferried back across river, had lunch, and loaded gear for running the first part of the rapids launching about 1PM. As we floated past 'Bliss's' group camping next door someone screamed "corndog Doug". At that point a couple of naked people from the group splashed into the water getting wet then rolled in sand to cover themselves before plunging into river again - sand rinse repeat. And there you have it - a river corndog.

We ran about ten rapids before pulled off at about 3:30PM. A couple of kayakers in another group were surfing two standing waves. That group shoved off so we elected to spend the night on the beach adjacent to these waves. Eric, Nick, and Ryan played extensively in the waves working to surf them. One time Ryan was shot vertically into air at least a couple of feet above the wave! Nick took a tough swim. Alan skirted the edge of the wave getting his canoe instantly filled with water.

Alan and I set up his wing for some shade and filtered water. Brian started another fire.

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Cataract Canyon rapids are rated from class II to IV. I found them challenging my raft skills in new ways and teaching me things I didn't know. After scouting a couple of the rapids I took the lead with positive outcomes. On Big Drop 3 the water looked much bigger from in the boat than it had from the shore. The line I chose worked but did toss me from the seat. Ryan later thanked me for flagging the low curling wave that caught me by surprise as they were then ready for it. Stephan and Brian ended up right of my line dropping over a pour over I'd sought to avoid and then found themselves up against some rocks. Either the cataraft is better in these types of rapids at 5000 cfs or Brian and Stephan have a guardian angel because the raft gently swung off the rocks and they gracefully passed through the rapid. This wasn't the only time today they looked headed for a yard sale and passed without incident.

A short while later on a labeled class II rapid that look inconsequential and me getting a little cocky, I didn't ferry aggressively enough. The raft hit a wave breaking in a curl and the raft angled perfectly to that curl to flip the raft. I confess I smiled as I found myself under the upside down boat thinking, 'well I had that coming' and 'I've finally flipped a raft'. I clipped my flip line onto a D-ring and then tried to climb onto the bottom of the boat as I'd seen in instruction videos. No way! I couldn't see how to climb up! (I've since seen a method and have devised another approach that I want to test out.) Fortunately kayaks and canoes are like fighter jets on the water. Eric and Alan were on me fast pushing me and the raft over to the shore in short order. Alan was understandably concerned about his guitar getting flooded but couldn't unstrap it with the boat upside down. Eric later said he thought we'd be here an hour getting the raft upright. I thought, 'hell, we can do this'! With Ryan and myself on the flip line and Alan and Eric pushing from the river we flipped the boat back over in one smooth motion. Everything was still secure in the boat. Alan's guitar dry bag worked like a champ. Eric and Ryan's dry bag needed one more roll so there stuff got partially wet. My Watershed bag flooded big time. (I've since discovered, that air inside will put pressure on the fancy seal burping it open. This bag is not designed to be submerged and I'll be replacing it.) In under 15 minutes, we were ready to be on our way again thanks to the support of Eric, Nick, Alan, and Ryan.

I'm a little nervous as we set off. A few rapids later I found myself staring straight down the throat of a deep hole formed on the downstream side of a massive rock. Honestly I hadn't seen it until I was on it. It was probably a case of not looking far enough downstream when I'm in the raft to allow time to make adjustments and not reading this bigger water. All I could do was point the boat straight into the hole and hope. Hope wasn't enough. The raft stalled just at the top of the wave, rotated to the right until it was facing back into the hole, and started sliding back into the hole at probably a sixty degree angle. This was too steep for me to stay in the boat. Nick later said I fell out toward the pour over rock and passed underneath the raft to emerge downstream of the wave. This time I wasn't smiling - I was cursing. Entering the hole and finding myself in the water all felt like it happened in a couple of seconds. Thankfully, I believe the extra weight in the back of the raft now at the top of the wave was enough to carry the boat out of the hole upright - yeah, big favors, upright! The fighter jet kayaks and canoe were on me again instantly. Eric chastised me to grab is kayak and he quickly towed me over to the raft. Cursing I strained and succeeded to pull myself into the raft. Wow, thanks again to Eric, Nick, Alan, and Ryan, we were back to floating down the river with barely a hiccup!

Me thinks I like kayakers and exceptional canoeists on raft trips!

We all scouted the last rapid, Gypsum. It deserves a good look as its got what looks like a bad pour over ledge across most of the river. It's one of the 'emerging rapids' as Lake Powell drops. I navigated around it easily. Stephan and Brian went just left of the nastiest pour over but still over a good drop and came out with not a splash - just another dodged bullet for the day for them - how did they do it!!?!!

Back on the flat water with the adventures and fun of Cataract Canyon rapids upstream of us, we pulled off at a fantastic campsite on Crystal canyon.

Brian started a fire again. It was another day of perfect temperate weather with no wind.

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All but Alan, who stayed at camp filtering water, hiked up Crystal canyon until the scrambling got too difficult and we reached a cottonwood tree.

We rigged together the boats with the outboard motor. We traveled down river for 18 miles to Millie Crag where we camped. Ryan and Eric retrieved firewood from across river in a move that was deemed a little dicey - no PFD's or flotation in kayak. The camp was on one of the few flat sandy spots surrounded by the silt, mud, collapsing banks, and tamarisk of the sediment from when the Lake Powell level was higher.

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The float today from camp to the North Wash take out is roughly seven miles. Most folks weren't in a rush taking a relaxing start for the day.

We strapped the rafts together and the canoe with the outboard motor. The kayakers all wanted to paddle. Nick loaned his kayak to Stephan for the day.

About a mile into the float as the river turned from north to west, a spring was spotted on river right just a few feet above the river level. It flowed clear and a light smell of sulphur. We had to check it out! We spent a spell bathing in the water letting the short waterfall flow over our heads. Some folks scooped up clay under the spring water to give themselves facials. The discovery was a pleasant diversion.

We passed under the Hwy 95 bridge as the canyon opened up into a broader valley. Once at North Wash the boats got unloaded and stripped down very rapidly. Yvonne and her friend Julie hadn't arrived yet. When they did, we were presented with beer and pizza.

This was the end of the river portion of our journey. Alan suggested we check out the overlook of Hite and a slot canyon called Leprechaun just east of Hwy 95 on the way back to Green River, UT. It was impressive to see the Hite Marina so high and dry above the river. Lake Powell is now further down river out of our view. The Leprechaun Canyon turnout was packed with cars and campers. The short half mile hike brought us to the slot canyon. Brigham Young University students were there putting on a combination music and dance performances. We'd just missed one and elected to explore the slot canyon while waiting for the next one. The slot canyon is definitely worth the easy visit. The performance was delayed and we left before it started. I'm sure it would have been fun to experience.

This brought to close our Cataract Canyon Colorado River float. I enjoyed the group and our activities. And I learned more about rafting the biggest water for me to date.