Bowling at the Grand Canyon

View from Nankoweap Ruins Marble Canyon-photo by JoAnn Sturman

Scott Sturman

Rafting the 87 mile upper segment of the Grand Canyon is a four day, three night affair and the shorter of the two portions used by commercial rafting companies. The trip begins down stream from the Glenn Canyon Dam in Marble Canyon and finishes at Phantom Ranch deep in the Colorado River gorge, 4500 vertical feet below Grand Canyon Village on the South Rim. At the conclusion rafters become hikers and are faced with a strenuous 9.5 mile trek in hot weather up the Bright Angel Trail to their accommodations on the canyon rim. In 2006 my wife JoAnn, my teenage children Sean and Shannon, and I met our guides from Diamond River Adventures at the Holiday Inn in Page, Arizona, where we received a briefing and were issued rafting equipment.


Later that Saturday night after dinner my son Sean and I decided to bowl at the local facility in Page. Overlooking the Glenn Canyon Dam and surrounded by the Navajo Indian Reservation, Page is an isolated community which depends on the water recreation business from Lake Powell and the Navajos living in the area.


The atmosphere in the bowling alley was electrifying. The premises were packed with Navajo people making the most of a Saturday night. The noise from the crowd and jukebox was deafening as scores of exceedingly drunk people careened about the room, crashing into walls and falling on the floor. Surprisingly, one of the bowling lanes was open. We rented some shoes and grabbed a couple of oblong, heavily gouged balls on the rack and worked our way through the revelers to the lanes.


While Sean and I were putting on our shoes, I looked at the scores posted electronically above the other lanes. Of all the other eleven lanes no one had a score of over 100, and the sheets indicated more foot faults than pins knocked down. I gazed to the left and to right and noticed bowling balls being thrown underhand, sidearm, and overhead at great velocity toward the pins, but most made their journey via the gutter rather than the alley.


I started my first approach toward the pins and barely could remain upright. The lanes were as slick as silicon with a coefficient of friction close to zero. No wonder the other bowlers were out of control; they were bowling with near lethal blood alcohol levels on a surface more similar to a hockey rink than a bowling lane. Balls were flung in every direction. Just because a bowler started on lane #4, did not mean the ball would not end up on lane #7.


As we finished our third and last game, I looked to my left to see a totally hammered young woman begin her delivery. She approached the foul line at a high rate of speed, and when she attempted to release the ball, it did not leave her hand. She staggered forward over the foul line and hit head first half way down the alley with the bowling ball still attached to her right hand. She slid on her stomach toward the pins with her out stretched arm holding the bowling ball. She crashed in to the pins - STRIKE! It was her first of the night. Laughing hysterically, her bowling companions rushed down the lane, grabbed her by the legs, and drug her back to her seat. Her injuries were nothing another cold beer would not remedy, but it was time for us to go before we were hit by a bowling ball flying through the air.


The next morning we bused to Lee's Ferry to meet our two rafts which can hold up to fourteen customers apiece. Diamond is an experienced company with excellent guides and equipment and a laudable safety record. The week before our journey one of our boat captains led Laura Bush and other members of the President's family down the Colorado.


By mid morning we were on our way. The temperature was already 90 degrees, but with 47 degree water splashing on us no one was complaining. Until Nankoweap Canyon joins the Colorado River 53 miles downstream from Lee's Ferry, the initial portion of the trip takes place in Marble Canyon, a narrow gorge with sheer walls which only allows sunlight to reach the river at midday. Much of the river is smooth sailing, but when a side canyon enters the river, rapids form due to rocks which have been fallen into the river bed. Normally it is quiet on board with only the sounds of conversation as the outboard motor pushes the raft through smooth water, but then a faint sound in the distance becomes apparent. The volume increases until there is no question whitewater lies ahead. The captain warns everyone to hang on and then suddenly the raft is buried under a wave of water only to pop up and strike the next one. Then just as quickly as the raft entered the rapid, the passengers are once again floating leisurely down the river with the sun quickly drying their drenched skin.


The rafting company prepares three delicious meals per day and all the soft drink and bottled water desired. Rafters are required to bring their own alcoholic beverages or buy them through a liquor store in Page which insures the goods will be waiting on the rafts at Lee's Ferry. Likewise, sleeping bags, tents, and water proof containers are provided by Diamond. During the summer before monsoon season, one does not need a tent and can fall asleep each night looking at the Milky Way as it extends across the clear desert sky. In parts of July and August rain storms strike in the afternoon and evening, making a tent necessary for a dry night's sleep.


If one chooses to raft the Grand Canyon before the monsoon, the Colorado River will be crystal clear until it is joined by the Little Colorado River. Water from the Colorado River enters Marble Canyon from the bottom of Glenn Canyon Dam which accounts for its clear, frigid conditions while the Little Colorado River is not dammed and has its head waters in Northern Arizona where there is plentiful sentiment and ample time for the sun to warm its waters.


The Colorado River is too cold for prolonged swimming, but the Little Colorado River is a different story. The water temperature is in the low 70's, and it has a beautiful turquoise color due to the minerals dissolved in it. It is a welcome break to spend several hours floating through the natural sluices or swimming in the large quiet pools.


We particularly enjoyed the company of a middle aged couple from Detroit who were members of the expedition. This was their second camping experience; the first was car camping in Northern Michigan. They brought much of their own camping equipment with them and dressed each evening as if they were on a safari. Neither could swim but by the end of the trip both were screaming with delight as the raft crashed into the waves. One evening after making camp for the evening, we hiked to Nankoweap, an old Anazasi granary perched about 1000 feet above the Colorado River. The trail is steep, and we carried only our water for the two hour round trip. About half way up the trail the wife could go no farther and returned to camp. Her husband trudged to to ruins but was short of breath. I asked JoAnn, “How are they going to be able to hike out of the canyon with all the gear they brought? I hope they arranged to hire mules to carry their heavy load up the Bright Angel Trail.”


Late in the afternoon on the last full day on the river, we were not far from our campsite near Phantom Ranch when the propeller on our raft struck a rock while shooting a stretch of rapids. The accident occurred in an area where the river was lined by sheer, vertical walls. There was no place to beach the raft for repairs which was necessary before we safely could negotiate the next whitewater. As our non powered raft approached another set of rapids, the captain of the companion raft drove the bow of his boat against our raft at midships and pinned it against the canyon wall. With temperatures over 130 degrees due to the blazing sun and reflected hear from the black volcanic rock, the crew replaced the motor, disengaged from the other raft, and within seconds entered the rapids and doused us with the most pleasant 47 degree bath water imaginable.


Unlike the pleasant campsites of the previous two nights, the last location across from Phantom Ranch was hot and uncomfortable. Earlier in the week a “controlled” burn on the North Rim of Grand Canyon became uncontrolled, filling the canyon with heavy smoke. The air quality would make the next day's hike to the South Rim more difficult, but at least we were close to the trail head for an early departure the following morning.


After a torrid night that never dropped below 90 degrees and quick breakfast, our crew ferried us to the other side of the Colorado River to begin the walk out of the canyon. We said goodbye to everyone and made arrangements to have dinner with our friends from Detroit at 7 PM at the El Tovar Hotel on the South Rim. As customary, they were dressed impeccably but had not rented mules to lug their baggage up the trail. They were carrying heavy back packs and would not be on the trail by the recommended 7 AM.


Hiking out of Grand Canyon in summer is arduous. The 9.5 mile trail is exposed to the sun which becomes more intense as the day progresses, and the oxygen content of the air steadily diminishes as one ascends to nearly 7000 feet above sea level. On this day the air quality due to the forest fires and lack of wind was like a one room house heated by a roaring fireplace for three days with the flue closed.


We traveled lightly, but it was difficult to keep pace with Shannon who was flying up the trail in hopes of hastening her reunion with her teenage friends in California. Within two miles of the rim she transformed from gazelle to tortoise as her marginal fluid intake took a toll. Some shade, a wet towel on her head, and two liters of water later, and she was ready to continue. Six hours after beginning the hike on the Colorado River we arrived at the South Rim, took off our boots, grabbed a chair in the shade overlooking the canyon, and opened a couple of cold ones.


Throughout the day we called the hotel where our friends from Detroit were staying. By dinner time there was still no word. That following morning there was a message waiting for us at the front desk telling us they had arrived at 1130 PM, slept for a few hours, and left at 6 AM to catch a flight home. They experienced a great adventure, but the hike out reminded them it was not car camping in Michigan.

Smoke on Bright Angel Trail - South Rim View - photo by JoAnn Sturman