I’ve been waiting for this all summer–rafting the Colorado River.

I drove from Durango to the Grand Canyon to stay overnight while I got my bags properly packed for everything, and my jeep situated for sitting in a parking lot for a week.

When I was in Canyonlands, I thought, “Ok, so I guess this is probably what the Grand Canyon will be like…” I was very, very wrong.

I drive up to the rangers’ station in the park. Thank goodness I got the year pass to all the national parks. I’ve saved a significant amount of time and money actually driving through the parks to get where I’m going.

The ranger tells me a few things and then, “the first view of the Canyon will be about a mile up on your right.” Perfect. I’m giddy.

I drive through and wind my down the road. I’m surprised at the trees. I guess I thought it was mostly desert and then a huge canyon. An embarrassing lack of research, but the surprise of these landscapes is almost the best part.

Suddenly, as I come around a curve, there is a clearing in the trees. I have my windows down and music up.

“NO F***ING WAY!”

I literally shout it to myself in my car. I can’t believe the view. It’s enormous. And beautiful. Bigger and more magnificent than Canyonlands. I’m completely amazed.

I pull over to one of the lookouts and get out of the car. I cannot believe it. Absolutely cannot. I can’t even see the river down there. And in about a week, I’ll be down there. I can’t even imagine being at the bottom.

I drive through Grand Canyon Village, check out the bookstores, grab something tiny to eat and head to my room for the night.

I’m staying at a Sky Dome just about 40 minutes south of the Canyon. A weird little campsite setup. But a big bonfire every evening with complementary s’mores kits. I hang out with a family from South London for a bit.

“I’m intrigued by your truck. Is that a tent on top?”

“Yep! It is. It just pops up.”

“Wow. Well it looks great. The whole truck looks nice. Do you do a lot of camping?”

“Um. This month is the first time I’ve been camping in my entire life. I’ve been road tripping, camping in a few national parks.”

“Oh wow! Are you alone?”

“Yep, just me.”

“Wow. That’s very brave of you.”

I head back to my dome. As I’m packing I start panicking. Rereading the checklist over and over and over. And checking the size of the dry bags they provide and checking the size of my backpacks. I think my day pack is too big.

I decide it will be fine, and I’ll grab one at the camp store in the Village, and it will be fine.

I don’t sleep at all. I get up early, pack my things and head back to the canyon.

I find a pack in a gift shop. Smaller and easily stuffable in a dry bag. And then I head to the lot to park my car before I have to catch a shuttle to Cliff Dwellers Lodge near Lee’s Ferry.

I check my bags a thousand times, making sure I have the essentials I need. I check my car a thousand times, making sure things are packed away and hidden. My travel anxiety is at an all time high.

I walk over to the Bright Angel Lodge to wait for the shuttle. I set up in the lobby, plug my phone in, and wait.

An older guy with just a daypack sits down on the bench across from me.

“Are you waiting to catch the shuttle to the North Rim?”

“I’m waiting for the shuttle, but I’m going to Cliff Dwellers.”

“Ah. What are you doing there?”

“Going on a river trip for six days. Are you hiking?”

“Yeah I’m hiking the North Rim to the South Rim tonight.”

“Tonight?? Like, in the dark? How long does that take?”

“Oh about nine hours. I plan to be back to my car by 4:00 am. And I know the trails very well, so it should be fine.”

THAT seems brave. Also like you would miss seeing the best parts of the Canyon. Maybe it’s nice to hike under the stars.

I get to Cliff Dwellers Lodge a little before dinner time but I head to the restaurant anyway because I haven’t really eaten. A lot of really good food there. I set up in my room and try to get to sleep early and enjoy the bed since I won’t be sleeping in one for a week. But again, I don’t sleep.

We meet our team at 8:00 am to load up the vans and head down to Lee’s Ferry. I’m sitting outside with my bags waiting for the vans to show up. An older guy and two younger guys are sitting outside too.

The older guy says, “You ready to go?”

“Yep. I can’t wait. I haven’t slept in two days.”

“Haha. Well I’m John and these are my sons, John and Adam. That’s easy to remember two Johns and an Adam. You know Adam, like the first man. Easy.”

They both wave over at me when he’s introducing them. We chat for a bit and the vans pull up to take us down to the rafts.

When we get out at Lee’s Ferry all of the river guides are waiting and packing things onto the rafts. Carlos is our trip leader. He’s very calm and soft spoken, but slips jokes in that make me laugh. He sometimes reminds me of Johnny Depp.

“Ok, everybody. I’m Carlos, and over here we have Dan. And down there is Blair, and Nicky, and right here is Zach, and Jimmy and JP. And that’s the last time we’re going to tell you our names…In a minute we’re going to climb on the rafts. The orange rafts are people rafts, so pick from any of those. Nobody is riding on the gray boat. You’ll learn more about that later.”

He also tells us that if we go under at any point through a rapid to pretend we are at a dance party as a way to not panic. The water will take you under and swirl you around like you’re dancing. But eventually you will come up and they’ll get you back in the boat.

There are only thirteen people on the trip. It’s a pretty small group. There are three geologists, A guy and his maybe twelve-year-old daughter, a guy and his eleven-year-old son, A 79-year-old guy, a 69-year-old guy who is the dad of one of the river guides, John (who is turning 79 the day we hike out of the Canyon), John, Adam, and me.

John and John and Adam ask if want to ride with them today. So we all climb in the raft with Blair. I’m in the front with the older John and his two sons are in the back. We set out on the river. I’m so excited and somehow it doesn’t feel real that we just climbed into some rafts to go down the Colorado.

Blair tells us that the water starts out pretty clear because the dam at Lake Powell allows the sediment to settle. The water is significantly warmer because the water levels are so low. He tells us the water coming out of the damn is 76 degrees. Typically it’s 50-something. Very very bad. But I’m somewhat relieved I won’t be getting into completely frigid water.

A few light splashes on the way, a generally easy day. We get the scoop on everything as we get going–how lunch and other meals work, what we do when we set up camp, the bathroom situation and the gray boat, general camping tips, and rules on the river.

We pull up to a beachy spot for lunch. The guides get out and start setting up. They make all of our meals. They eat first during lunch, but we eat first for breakfast and dinner. Sandwiches and pringles and fruit and cookies everyday for lunch. The way they unpack, set everything up, then pack it all up again to keep rowing down the river is amazing.

Each time we pass something going down the river, it generally has a story. So many stories it’s hard to think of them and put them in here. I’m going to have to give you a few and a general feel for everything. This whole thing will probably be out of order and rambly. Because it’s really way too much.

Stories of the Native People who lived here, stories of some of the pioneers, stories of expeditions and some people who just set out down the river not knowing what to expect. People who lost their lives, boats that crashed and flipped, rapids that they were way unprepared for. Each night I follow along in my Bellknap River Guide and mark where we’ve been, where we stopped for camp, where we hiked.

The first night we stop on a beach and set up camp. Each night and each morning we all line up to unload the boats and pack them up, passing bags and equipment down the line. It’s faster and more organized. They tell us to grab our packs and a sleeping mat and go find a camp spot. We set off and I pick an ok site. It’s hot on the beach. I can’t imagine getting inside a sleeping bag tonight.

“We’re not going to get the tents out unless someone wants one. Or it starts raining.”

Um. I want one. But nobody else does. So I can be cool. And just sleep out in the open. With bugs. And snakes. And bats fluttering above my head. So cool. I’m totally fine. I set up my area with the tarp halfway under my sleeping mat so I can pull it over if it does start raining.

After setting up we head back down for dinner. We set up our camp chairs and grab a plate. The food is amazing. One night chicken and rice and salad, another steaks and potatoes, another stir fry with eggrolls, another salmon and asparagus. Always dessert, usually a dutch oven cake or brownies. For breakfast bacon and sausage and fruit and eggs made any way you want them, pancakes and bagels. Also snacks throughout the day and water water water so we stay hydrated. It’s seriously so good.

After dinner we all slowly make our way back to our campsites. It starts getting dark and the stars are so bright and beautiful. But I can feel things fluttering around my face. Maybe the Sphynx Moths we saw earlier. Maybe the Hummingbird Moths. I can also hear the bats.

I made the mistake of telling the guys I had a fear of rabies. Rabies and prions. They totally freak me out. Because once you’re infected with either, there’s no coming back. Two of my biggest, most irrational (or maybe rational depending on the situation) fears. And now there’s bats flying around my face.

I don’t like feeling so exposed while I’m sleeping. I know a tent is just a fabric shelter, but somehow it still feels better to me than sleeping out in the open. At some point that first night it starts to rain. It’s so dark and I don’t feel like trying to set a tent up in a storm for it to be over in fifteen minutes. So I pull the tarp over and try to fall back asleep. It’s so hot but it feels better to be covered up. I grabbed a tent every night after that.

While we eat we all sit around and talk. Some funny things, some more serious things. It’s funny how many times you tell your story to different people until finally you all know everyone. Blair’s dad was an architect. Jimmy is from Minnesota and runs river trips in Alaska. Nicky has his dad on the trip and he’s going to Chile during the off season. His dad says he chases summer. Carlos’s dad is from Spain so he spent a lot of time there growing up. He says it’s cool that I’m from Memphis. He’s been there and he loves it. It’s fun to hear the stories of the River and the stories of the guides.

During the day we paddle the river. The second day of the trip has the best rapids–the Roarin’ Twenties. The River is named/mapped by how many miles from Lee’s Ferry it is. So twenty-ish miles from Lee’s Ferry are some really fun rapids. A splashy day. I sit in the front most days, which means I get hit with the most water. For some reason that second day I got hit with every big wave. John joked that I was in the hot seat.

John and John and Adam are from Austin, Texas. The younger John and Adam are both contractors–John for smaller residential projects, Adam for a big firm. The older John was in Vietnam, and then became a high school teacher teaching Government and Economics. He then went on to become the President of the Teachers’ Union there. He had a fun story about getting arrested for working to get new members.

“Do you guys have a way to differentiate which John is which when someone says ‘John.'”

“Well, he’s John the younger. And I’m John the Wiser.”

Adam: “He’s definitely younger but I don’t know about the wiser part.”

It’s funny to watch them with their dad. Sometimes they still get annoyed with him almost like teenagers when he says something funny. The older John forgot his raincoat–one of the very important things on the packing list–so Carlos let him borrow one. Adam said, “I almost checked what he packed, but I said no, he’s a grown man. I knew I should have looked.”

One night me and the younger John and Adam are sitting on the beach. They look up and see their dad sitting at his campsite with a mirror trimming his beard with scissors.

Adam: “How did he bring a mirror and scissors to trim his beard but no raincoat?”

Younger John: “There’s literally no telling what he packed.”

Adam brought a Nalgene half fully of whiskey. He brings it out the fourth night we’re on the river and we pass it around.

One morning as we’re loading the boats the older John yells over at Carlos:

“Carlos! I would like to report a theft. I couldn’t find my flashlight last night when I got back to camp, and that probably means someone stole it because I couldn’t have misplaced it. I think it may have been Megan.”

“Yes, usually when things go missing on the river it means someone stole it. We will all sit around together tonight when we get to camp and have an interrogation,” he says with his usual quiet, deadpan humor. We all laugh.

The next day– “Carlos! You can call off the investigation. I found my light in the bottom of my bag.”

The last night before we hike out we are sitting around together during dinner, the older John says to me John and Adam, “I was digging down into my dry bag tonight to find my back up flashlight, and my raincoat was at the bottom of my bag.” Adam stares at him and then looks over at me and just shakes his head.

The night before we hike out we make peanut butter sandwiches to take with us on the trail. The younger John is watching the older John like a hawk. I look over at him–

Younger John: “I’m just making sure he doesn’t make a mayonnaise sandwich or something.” We both cannot stop laughing.

Another night we’re all sitting around and Carlos comes to hang out with us. Adam tells him about my irrational fear of rabies while we are watching the bats.

“It’s not really irrational. One guy on one of the trips woke up one morning with a bat tugging at his eyelids,” as he makes a gesture of it tugging on his eyelid. We all start dying laughing.

“See. I mean it’s a legitimate fear.”

Carlos: “One time when I was surfing I rescued one from the ocean. He started climbing up my surfboard,” again he makes this bat climbing motion. “He was just chillin there. It was probably rabies.” We all laugh again.

During the days we row a few miles and get in a hike. Usually up through one of the side canyons. A couple of waterfalls. Up to the graineries that the Hopi built into the sides of the Canyon to store grains during winter. One day up through Nautiloid Canyon to see nautiloid fossils. Jimmy and Blair start singing this song about a Nautiloid named Loyd but he said he was Not-a-Loyd or something. I can’t follow and also can’t tell if it’s something real or they are making it up on the spot.

The geologists were so excited about Nautiloid Canyon. They were the ones who wanted to go up, but it turned into an entire group hike.

“Carlos said we were trying to be back down by 7:30 so we could get on the river.”

Jimmy: “No worries, we’re right on time. It’s river time!”

All of these guys are my favorite. All totally chill. And they have fun. But also take all of this very seriously.

The hikes are so fun. Hot. So very hot. But fun. Some days mostly up gravely, sandy paths. A few clear creeks flowing down through the side canyons. One day we up 1.7 billion year old metamorphic rock. It’s amazing to think about that timeline. Difficult to fathom. No way to really wrap your head around the rock your seeing being almost 1/6 the age of the Universe. And that rock felt like a cast iron skillet sitting in the sun.

It’s also amazing to see the rock layers change from Marble Canyon to the Grand Canyon. Shifting and angling as we row down. New layers each day. My favorite is the Bright Angel Shale with layers of green and purple and brown stones. Apparently the purple comes from the oxidization of some ancient snail feces. Another lovely fact from the river guides. The Great Unconformity where there is a billion years of time missing from the layers of rock. The one underneath is a billion years older than the one on top. It has to do with the tectonic shifts, erosion, the changing and lifting landscape over millions and billions of years. And we get to see it.

On the way down from one of our hikes Carlos says in his quiet, very serious way, “Now, what I like to do on a hike like this is to let people get a little ahead of me where I can see them down below. And then I kick rocks on ’em and try to hit ’em.” We all laugh but the kids just stare at him. “I’m kidding. Don’t do that.”

One day we stop for lunch at a beach where the Little Colorado River meets the Colorado River. After lunch, we hike up a ways, with our life jackets on, and jump into the rapid and ride the LCR down to the beach. It’s so fun! And so silty. It looks like chocolate milk.

“It’s been said that the Colorado is too thick to drink and too thin to plow.” Big, muddy, swirling, brown, silty river.

One day I ride with Nicky and his dad, Paul. It’s just the two of us in a boat. We get started with the general questions: where you from?, what do you do?, etc.

Paul told us the first day he was from Manhattan, born and raised in the Bronx.

“I’m retired now, but I was a lighting designer for Broadway shows.”

“Oh cool! How fun!”

Nicky: “He’s being modest, he was nominated for eight Tony Awards. And you did how many shows, Dad?”

“52. There’s only eight other people in the world that hold that record.”

“NO WAY! That’s amazing!! So you’re famous! We’ve got very precious cargo in this raft.”

We start talking about everything. Design, lighting, who he’s worked with. He went to Yale School of Drama with Meryl Streep and Sigourney Weaver. He worked with Arthur Miller on the revival of the Crucible. He worked with Liam Neeson and Bradley Cooper (before he was famous). He talked about his work. About telling a story. Creating an experience. Not being afraid to take risks for those things.

“I would always light my shows from the side. Everyone was lighting them from the front. In the first scene of the Crucible I lit the scene from the bottom. Ah, some people didn’t like it, they couldn’t see! You’re not supposed to see–that’s the point!”

“In Titanic the set was only the bow of the boat and it rotated throughout the show. Huge hydraulics and machinery just to get that thing to move. But we only did that part of the ship and it took the entire stage. It was massive! And if you could see how big just that part of the ship was, you could imagine how big the rest of the ship was. Sometimes it’s the things you don’t see.”

He talked about being unsure of that show, but that he loved working on it. “How do you make a show about thousands of people dying in a shipwreck?? It’s gonna be a disaster, come on! But really, the show is about class. Social status. How they all interact. Who is saved. That’s really what it’s about. And it was incredible. Hugely successful. And don’t forget the love story.”

I was obsessed with hearing him talk about all these things. We talked about architecture. And design. Process. What his process is like, what mine is like. How decisions are made and worked through. That some of his favorite shows were small and wonderful and made no money. How his favorite times are when everyone is there working through it all together. The collaboration. “I realized that they hired me to be there. And to have a voice in how the show went.” A reminder to give your opinions, to take risks, to do what’s best to tell the story.

And he would also ask Nicky a ton of questions about the Canyon. He would look up and say, “Megan! Look up there! Now doesn’t that look like a temple?? Like someone went up there and built it! How’d they do that??”

It was fun to watch Nicky and Paul interact. Nicky was so happy to have his dad there, to show him what he spends his life doing, what he loves. And Paul couldn’t have been happier to be there. “I have a biased opinion, but he’s the best river guide.”

We also loved getting splashed by the rapids. I think Paul liked it more than I did! It’s fun to ride through with someone who is also having the best time of their life.

At one point, Nicky let me paddle for a while. I got to go through a small rapid and I didn’t get caught in the eddy, so I was happy about that. It’s much harder than they make it look.

On the last day of rafting before we hiked out I rode with Paul and Nicky again.

“Megan, I’m gonna miss you.”

“I know! I’m gonna miss you too. I want to stay so bad.”

“So stay! Nicky, she can stay can’t she? Just you know, ride back there or something, hide out.”

Paul also talked about how he thought he was just coming on the river trip with his son. And that his son would take care of him. But really everyone took care of him. And he took care of everyone else. He didn’t think he could do it, but he did.

One day, when I was riding in Carlos’s boat, Paul’s hat blew off during a trip through a rapid. It was right in front of us, so Carlos paddled hard to try to get it, but as we got there, it was caught up again in an eddy and swirled around back under water and we lost it. Then it popped up behind a rock. Carlos paddled hard to get back to it and I reached over and scooped it up. A successful rescue.

“I can’t believe you did that to save my hat! I thought you’d only work that hard to rescue a person, not a hat!”

All of the people were so fun. We all worked well together. And the guides were fun, and so knowledgable about everything on the river, and so funny.

One night we had stir fry and egg rolls and fortune cookies for dessert. Apparently Zach grabbed a fortune cookie, opened it, and ate the entire thing in one bite, fortune and all.

Nicky: “Where’s the fortune??”

Zach: “I don’t know! I just opened it and ate it. It happened so fast.”

Nicky: “You’re the only person I know who would open a fortune cookie and eat the whole thing in one bite.”

The eleven-year-old, Maddox, was hanging out by the river and Carlos asked him if he got a fortune cookie.

“No, I don’t really like them very much.”

In his very quiet, calm voice: “Well, I guess you don’t care much about the future.” Maddox just stared at him.

The next day we were rowing down the river, and a horrible smell wafts across the boat.

Paul: “Nicky, what’s that smell?”

Nicky: “If I had to bet it’s probably JP’s boat.”

Paul: “Really? He has to ride with that smell? No. No way. Poor JP. But he needs to get behind us or something…”

A little ways up the river Zach shouts back, “JP! I can smell your boat!”

We all laugh. When we get to our campsite Dan tells us he saw a dead cow on the shore where we smelled that. It thankfully wasn’t JP’s boat.

We saw lizards, and a tiny snake, and a few bighorn sheep. Several blue herons. A few ducks. A few California condors.

At night, John and John and Adam and I would usually set our chairs up together and talk. I finally figure out that Adam is John’s son from his first marriage. And John is his stepson from his third marriage, his wife he lost to cancer last year.

“I believe in marriage…I’ve been married three times! But Sonia was the love of my life. She really was.”

We had a few very serious talks by the river.

Older John: “You must miss your parents terribly.”

“I do. Everyday.”

“I lost my wife several months back. I hate it. It’s incredibly hard.”

It’s crazy how quickly we all connected so easily. All of us out here on this river.

The last day of rafting has a few big rapids–like category 5-8. Right before the biggest one, Hance Rapid, we pull over to a small shore for the guides to scout it before going in. A big discussion with the team, a running order for everyone–Carlos in front, Nicky is sweep, and everyone picks their spot between. We have a safety lesson on the shore. Jimmy tells us everything we need to know–“The goal is to stay in the boat. We need everyone holding on with both hands. We may need you to shift your weight to keep the boat from flipping. If we tell you to lean in, lean into the boat. Or if we need you to go right or left, we need you moving to that side of the boat. We also may tell you to lean into the wave. Don’t be afraid when you see it coming at you, we need you to weight the boat down to keep it from flipping. If you do swim, we will point where we need you to swim. Don’t panic. The rapid may take you under, but trust your life jacket, you will come back up. You need to be an active participant in your rescue.” I’m freaking out. But also so excited. We go through the rapid and it’s no big deal. These guys are amazing.

And the entire time you’re floating down and through one of the greatest landscapes in the world. It’s unreal. It’s breathtaking. Several times just riding on the boat, soaking it in, tears running down my face. Lots of times with my stomach doing flips over the rapids. The Big Dipper perfectly framed by the canyon at night, and then down the river the next night, the entire Milky Way running through the center of the canyon. Happy and excited and peaceful.

The last night we stop at a beautiful campsite. The spot I find is farther than the others so it feels like I have my own personal beach through the tall grass and rocks. I walk down to the river for the last time in the dark. The stars so bright overhead. The river rushing past. I silently thank the river. And the canyon. And the stars. And the Universe. And all the time, the billions of years. For such a beautiful experience.

The next day we wake up at 3:45 am to begin packing up our campsites and getting things loaded on the boats. We need to be on the river by first light so we can start hiking Bright Angel Trail as early as possible. We get loaded and set off down the river. Only a few short miles. Tie up on a sandy beach, change our shoes, and start hiking.

It’s seven miles up. Gradual at first and then it picks up with some brutal switchbacks. I figure if I can get out by noon, I’ll feel pretty good about myself. I think the brochure said most people get out in eight or nine hours. I was shooting for five.

I start off at a good pace, Blair and I starting off a little later than the others on the trail. The sun is still making its way over the rim, so it’s still nice and cool. I have my pack on, about thirty pounds. And a ton of water and snacks.

I get to Indian Gardens, the halfway point, pretty easily. Nicky is there waiting for the new folks rafting the lower half of the river to hike down.

He gives me a hug, “Bye, Megan. My dad’s going to miss you.”

“I’ll miss him too! I hope you guys have an amazing trip.”

I continue hiking up by myself. About a half a mile up the trail a deer is about ten feet from me, hanging out, eating. It’s so amazing here. I keep hiking.

The sun starts coming up. I look down to where I just hiked through. I can’t even see the river. I keep going.

The switchbacks start. And the trail has logs every five-ten feet or so to keep the trails from completely washing away. And while they are maybe more intentioned as steps, they feel like huge hurdles, a big step and lunge at each log. I am sweating and breathing hard and giving myself the saddest pep talk. Taking baby steps when I can and then trying to go easy on the big log steps.

Occasionally I look up at how far I’ve got. There’s no way I’m making it out. The end of the trail seems impossibly far away. And then I look back down. Every view is incredible. Parts of the canyon I was looking up at, I’m now looking down at.

I get to the 3 mile rest house. And then the 1.5 mile rest house. A couple about my age catches up to me when I stop to eat a peanut butter sandwich and we start hiking up together. They just hiked rim to rim and are carrying a similar sized pack. All three of us are struggling. But also encouraging each other. With about a quarter mile left, they stop. I have some new energy because I can finally see the end.

I make it. I drop my pack and wait for my new friends. They come up the trail and we all high five and talk for a while. We part ways and I head to my sky dome to take a shower and sleep. I call some friends along the way. I feel good. Accomplished. And happy. So happy. And damn, I just rafted the Colorado River and hiked out of the Grand Canyon.