Colorado River through the Grand Canyon, Arizona

Perhaps the most renowned river trip in the northern hemisphere, this whitewater rafting trip is a must do for anyone wanting to talk big. Big waves, big holes, big canyon, big expedition, big fun. It’s the big classic and benchmark for all rivers claiming to be big.

Zambezi River, Zambia

It’s the ‘Slam-bezi’ and this river will leave you with no doubt as to its nickname. Africa’s most famous big water river (and perhaps the world’s) is loaded with big Class IV-V rapids that rarely allow a raft through without wreaking havoc. Add in crocs and hippos and BIG is the only way to describe this experience.

Chilko River, British Columbia

This river trip is all about big whitewater. It takes place in big country, among glaciated peaks, alpine forests and, of course, big whitewater. The Chilko is no joke and its nonstop stretch of Class IV whitewater is notorious on the North American continent. Can you say freight train?

Futaleufu River, Chile

Mention your trip on the “Fu” to anyone who knows whitewater rafting, and you’ll enjoy their undivided attention. South America’s big water legend serves up multiple Class V rapids in a setting that seems almost make-believe. With several mind-blowing sections of river to navigate over several days, you will be a believer.

Colorado River through Cataract Canyon, Utah

This epic run, host to arguably the largest Class V rapids in the U.S., is most likely to rage in June. Don’t let the scenery fool you, desert whitewater can be as big as the landscape it cuts through.

Middle Fork of the Salmon River, Idaho

Typically late-May into mid-June is when this scenic pathway can take on another attitude altogether. Among the boating community, a high-water descent through this canyon will earn you respect, as its continuous Class IV whitewater is intense.

Tuolumne River, California

The Sierra snowpack can unleash its bounty with a fury that attracts whitewater boaters from all over the world. Most often late-May through mid-June, this 18-mile stretch packed with Class IV-V rapids becomes an adrenaline junky’s dream come true.

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The post 7 of the Best Whitewater Rafting Trips in the World appeared first on River Currents.

Sitting on a sandy stretch of Crystal Beach, in the deepest recesses of Arizona’s incomparable Grand Canyon, we listened to the poem, “SAND,” by Peter Goodwin, a fellow traveler from New York who had written it while the rest of us were busy pitching tents.  As the sun set on another wondrous day on the river, my mind fixed on the inadequacy of the word “beautiful” to describe this remote and remarkable place, the relevance of the just-penned poem, and the sheer majesty of all that surrounded us.

I’ve had it with this Grand Canyon

nothing but rock and sand

the rocks up there

the sand down here

In my shoes, between my toes

in the tent and sleeping bag

everywhere

even in my coffee cup.

Next time, Mr. Boatman, please

find us a campsite without sand

a nice meadow will be fine

soft, sandless and green

and while you are about it

a hot shower would be nice

and maybe an electric outlet…

   —Peter Goodwin

Visiting the Grand Canyon was a dream I had pursued for years. Then, a friend had suggested if I ever realized my dream, I shouldn’t confine myself to the “rims,” but venture deep into the canyon via a dory on the Colorado River. Following a flood of email exchanges, I signed up for a trip that combined the adrenalin rush of running full-on rapids with a personal test of physical endurance.

The October morning sun had yet to emerge from the horizon, when we stood at the Bright Angel Trailhead on the canyon’s South Rim pondering the trek that lay before us: a 9.7-mile descent into the depths of the canyon. It’s a hike that can test the mettle of any man but we were prepared. Day packs laden with water, snacks, cameras and sunscreen, we had been warned, advised and provided with all possible lessons of survival.

As the morning progressed and the hike stretched into miles, I found solace in the sparse desert vegetation that littered the canyon floor – Sonoran oak and brittlebush, sun-soaked shrubs and flowering daisies. 

“Oh, it’s not too far, you are almost there,” fellow hikers intoned along the route.  While the morning air started out cool, my energy levels were gradually sapped by the increasing heat of the day and I felt a real sense of accomplishment when we finally arrived at Phantom Ranch. After a brief rest, we stored our personal gear away in water-tight hatches, donned our lifejackets, boarded our boats and headed out into the ambling current.

Our party consisted of four dories, four guides, two assistants and 11 enthusiasts. I was on a 12-day, 139-mile trip down the Colorado River from Phantom Ranch to Diamond Creek—the most dramatic stretch of the river—and it didn’t take long to feel relaxed and cooled by the river.

In just four hours, my previously crumbling body filled with aches and pains had been rejuvenated. Looking above at the massive cliffs and the rapidly moving white clouds sandwiched between the red sandstone and the brilliant blue sky, I realized this was the Grand Canyon I had waited to see for so long. 

It takes a team to run the river and O.A.R.S. has mastered it to the last half-hitch.

First, the river guides—my group with Steve Kenny, Duffy Dale, Elena Kirschner and leader Nick Grimes—were a hardy lot.  It requires a special persona and a little wild streak to do this job. It was demystifying to know that river guides don’t just row. They make traveler’s lives on the river easier in every possible manner. They cook, pack, wash, entertain, tell us stories, sing and dance, and ensure the safety of their entire entourage. 

Each day, we spent three to five hours on our small boat. Then we’d find a little patch of sand that became our home for the night. Loading and unloading a dory and back-up raft is an art perfected by every boatman.  Giant coolers carrying perishable items, folding tables, chairs, pots and pans, ample beer, emergency kits, and even a portable toilet are all unpacked and repacked at every camp.

Eleven of us from Germany, France, India and the U.S.A., age 30 to 70, crammed into the small wood and fiberglass boats: two in the front, one in the back, and our boatman in the center.  On the river, our guides told of the canyon’s history and mystery, imparted legend and lore, pointed out natural phenomena of the canyon and wildlife, and occasionally warned us of impending rapids.

Crossing each rapid is a mix of art and science. As we approached the rapid, instructions were called out: move to the right, helmets on, sit straight.  It’s all about the 10-16 seconds of escaping the churning waters without flipping the boat. Once cleared, baling began, as guides checked the safety of other boats. Every rapid is a challenge that requires strategy and precision.

Along the banks, vegetation surprises first-timers. The Grand Canyon’s isolation, elevation, and position at the convergence of the Mojave, Sonoran and Great Basin deserts—have created unique habitats for an unusual assemblage of plants. Some grow only at seeps and springs, while others emerge from cracks in the bedrock. Some species live only in the Grand Canyon.

Experiencing the heart of the Grand Canyon is not solely about floating on dories, however. It is the entirety of the experience—the tall tales, personal challenges, camaraderie, ever-changing vistas, and the remarkable stories of human history that complete the trip.

With the coming day, a conch shell signal would alert the party that a new dawn was rising and we were ready to roll.  Each evening, as we pulled into secluded beaches, we would discover a new world. Under clear skies speckled with countless stars, we dined on delicacies as fine as any resort cuisine. And we found contentment in a perfect balance of sun and sand and sky, and just the right mix of traveling companions. 

When we reached Lava Falls, everything came together. We had crossed Hermit, Granite and Crystal rapids where we got pushed and pulled, lost an oar, hit a rock and dented the boat, but we sailed through without being swallowed by the river. Lava was decidedly different.  It’s dynamic, dramatic and powerful waves created anxiety in each of us even before we had glimpsed our first whitewater.

Duffy Dale, my new friend and boatman, sidled up to me and pointed to a place on the top of the cliff.

“That’s where I got married, directly below the Lava,” Duffy said. Duffy had lost count of how many times he had crossed this treacherous stretch of the Colorado—over a hundred? Yet, every single crossing is different. After a 15-minute strategy session replete with drawings in the wet sand, he outlined the run and gave his three passengers confidence and direction. Everyone nodded, while most said a silent prayer. Before climbing aboard the dory, Duffy offered one last piece of advice:  “If the boat tips, hold onto the rope line.”  We all said a second silent prayer. 

With so much experience, Duffy went first. In the next 16 seconds, our dory hit the first wave hard, and the second wave bulldozed us from the left. Duffy saw a 15-foot wall of water approaching from the bow and pulled hard to avoid it, allowing us to punch through to the right. We exited the rapid with a boat completely filled with water, but still stable enough to make it downstream to Tequila Beach.  We watched as the other boats successfully negotiated the rapids. Then, we screamed, hugged, high-fived, and scrambled around for a cold beverage. 

The magic of a dory trip can’t be matched by any other kind of visit to the Grand Canyon. Its rapids are like a roller coaster ride, while its side hikes are an exploration into the unknown. For the majority of the trip, we saw the river and the canyon walls as one color, until we reached Havasu Creek. There, the canyon’s surprises are unending.  Huge canyon walls that dwarf human visitors, the small watercraft and all vegetation, are humbling. Two distinct colors of water mix together. A side hike up the creek left us all with a sense of awe.  

Arriving quietly at Diamond Creek in the afternoon of our 12th day, the sight of trucks ready to retrieve our dories and all the accessories was instantly depressing. 

As we loaded the boats, I suddenly didn’t want to leave. My long-ago dream of experiencing the heart of the Grand Canyon, now realized, was ending far too soon. Even now, weeks after this incredible journey, I’m reminded daily of new-found friendships, raging torrents, snippets of real danger, and fine dining, all in a land as untamed and timeless as any in the world.

 I simply must go back!

This article originally appeared in the O.A.R.S. 2013 catalog.  Want to get your hands on a copy?  Order or view it online here: www.oars.com/catalog

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The post The Heart of the Grand Canyon appeared first on River Currents.

My river journey started in 1962, while I was going to UCLA, when I floated down the Colorado River through Glen Canyon.  I found that rafting was a lot easier than backpacking!  Right after school was out in June, a group of the Bruin Mountaineers, took off from Hite, UT for a 10-day float through, what I think was, the most magical river canyon in the world.

We had over 20 young people who used a variety of craft, including a canoe, several small rafts, and the Huck Finn-type craft that my friend and I constructed.  Our “raft” was made of 12 inner tubes (stacked 2 high), which were lashed together and decked with planking to make a stable platform.  I foolishly went on the trip without a life jacket.  We maneuvered our raft with canoe paddles although, with a flow of 40,000 CFS in June, we really didn’t have to work to make downstream progress as we floated considerably faster than a hiking speed.

Glen Canyon truly was, as shown in Eliot Porter’s photographs in the Sierra Club’s book, The Place No One Knew, spectacularly beautiful.  Eliot’s photos, however, really didn’t do the canyon justice.  Glen Canyon had miles of high vertical walls, magical glens and side canyons with countless narrow slot tributaries that were similar to those still available in a few parts of the Southwest like in Buckskin Gulch and the Paria Canyon.

A friend at UC Berkeley shared with me a list of over 20 amazing side canyons to explore that were described in some detail, usually ending with the phrase “normal, run-of-the-mill Glen Canyon spectacular.”  Some of the Colorado’s side canyons had a series of giant alcoves that were as deep or deeper than Redwall Cavern.  Those of you, who have floated the Grand Canyon, know that it is a long way from the Colorado River’s shore to the back of Redwall Cavern.  Now, imagine a tributary of the Colorado River with several such alcoves within a mile of its mouth.  One such wonderful side canyon was Twilight Canyon, just down river from the more well-known Music Temple.

The beautiful hike to Rainbow Natural Bridge was, at the time, about six miles from the river.  Less well known were the side canyons of the Escalante River where some tributaries such as Davis Gulch became partially re-exposed in 2005, when the Southwest drought dropped the level of Reservoir Powell, to allow Cathedral in the Desert to re-emerge. You may want to look at the YouTube video: Resurrection: Glen Canyon and a New Vision for the American West, for some ideas about the work conservationists have ahead of them in the fight to drain Lake Powell so that the canyons it submerged can someday be reclaimed.

When the gates of Glen Canyon Dam closed in 1963, the 186-mile canyon above it slowly died over the subsequent years.  During that time, my brother and friends and I sea kayaked much of the lower parts of Glen Canyon to hike in the narrow slot canyons that were being flooded.  It was the death of this beautiful canyon and its amazing tributaries that galvanized much of my conservation zeal over the subsequent years.

Yampa River: Near death experience

In 1965, I continued my river journey, by rafting the Yampa River in Dinosaur National Monument.  It was there that I narrowly escaped an early death, when a major flash flood created Warm Springs Rapid. We were camped at the mouth of the side canyon right there during a tremendous rain and flood event.  The river’s flow, apparently, was temporarily blocked by a huge debris flow that flushed huge boulders into the river, removing about a 100-yard section of the old-growth trees where we had been huddled shortly before.  Water backed up above this new river dam, creating a giant mud bathtub ring on both sides of the river upstream, which remained after this new river impediment was breached relatively quickly.

Initially, this new rapid was about the size of Crystal Rapid in the Grand Canyon, but it has been modified over the years.  Parenthetically, as some of you may have read, after the rafting season on the Yampa River this past season, there was a major new flood event and/or a major rock fall from the wall opposite Warm Springs Draw which will make running the rapid radically different this next year.

The day after we survived the flash flood and debris flow at Warm Springs, after photographing the new rapid, we floated to our take-out at Echo Park, where the Yampa and Green Rivers join.  Then, after an all-night drive to Lees Ferry, I had the good fortune of being able to join a 10-day motorized Sierra Club trip through the Grand Canyon, becoming one of the first 1,100 people to go through the Grand Canyon on the Colorado River.  Even though the water was fairly high (running at over 40,000 CFS), and I had only a little rowing experience, I thought that most of the rapids we saw looked like they could be navigated with the 17-foot,10-man military surplus rafts that a couple of friends and I had recently acquired.

Saving the Grand Canyon

The Grand Canyon was spectacular! It is hard to believe now, but in 1966 the Bureau of Reclamation was working hard to get approval to build two large dams in the Grand Canyon–one at Marble Canyon and one at Bridge Canyon.  These two planned dams would have flooded 133 miles of the Colorado River in the Grand Canyon.  The relatively small Sierra Club, realizing their mistake of accepting the destruction of Glen Canyon, took out full-page ads in the Washington Post and the New York Times:  ”Should We Also Flood the Sistine Chapel so Tourists Can Get Nearer the Ceiling?”  To contact members of Congress in the 1960′s, people wrote letters.  The Sierra Club ads helped generate a veritable flood of letters, resulting in more mail to Congress on this one issue than on any other contemplated legislation up to that time.

Subsequently, the IRS revoked the Sierra Club’s tax-exempt status.  The resulting publicity for the Sierra Club all over the country and the feeling that they were being unfairly targeted led to a quadrupling of their membership in the ensuing months.  This fight to save the Grand Canyon further shaped my life.  I became an advocate of the position that if the public doesn’t know about how valuable something is, they won’t work to save it.  Beginning in 1967, while still living in Los Angeles and working as a school teacher, I worked to begin offering yearly river trips in the Grand Canyon to share the canyon with other people.

The ongoing battle to protect our rivers

About 1969, I also started running weekend trips on the Stanislaus River.  With the ’59 Ford that I borrowed from my brother, it usually took us until after midnight to get to Camp Nine after work on Friday.  Then, in 1971, San Fernando Valley had a fairly large earthquake that rated 6.6 on the Richter scale.  It rattled the entire Los Angeles area and my wife, Pam, was frightened enough that she wanted to get out of Southern California. She wanted to move back to Minnesota.  Since I was a California native, I wasn’t terribly interested in moving to Minnesota.  So we compromised on Angels Camp, CA. We moved there in 1974 and raised our two sons, Clavey and Tyler, who I am proud to say, are now working for O.A.R.S. and putting their energy into making sure that we run good trips.

Living in the Foothills of the Sierra did allow us to run more trips on the Stanislaus River and we soon were offering 2-day trips starting 7 days a week, April through October.  We were one of the original 13 companies on the Stanislaus River that worked collectively to negotiate things such as designated campsites along the river and launch times that were designed to avoid having companies in sight of each other while floating down the river.  We incorporated a co-op named Stanislaus River Recreation Association, which charged dues so that our new entity could buy a small truck and hire a ranger and an assistant who patrolled the river instead of the BLM.

Back in 1973, a 2-day river trip cost about $45 per person, and the outfitters all agreed to ask their passengers to voluntarily raise the amount they paid by $5 per person (a contribution of over an additional 10 percent of the trip’s cost) to help fund an effort to save the Stanislaus River.  The money our passengers paid went to the organization largely founded through the efforts of Mark Dubois and Friends of the River.

During the November 1974 election, we all worked hard to mobilize support for Proposition 17 to save the Stanislaus River. But unfortunately, some well-funded opposition from Bank of America and Guy Atkinson Construction, among others, led to the defeat of our ballot initiative.  This loss galvanized the river community’s efforts, however, and the work of Friends of the River, the Tuolumne River Trust (which the outfitters helped fund by adding a voluntary contribution of $10 – $15 per passenger), as well as other conservation organizations, eventually led to the protection of the Tuolumne River with Federal Wild & Scenic designation.

Years later, after New Melones Reservoir filled to the brim in 1983 and flooded the old Camp Nine Bridge and put-in location, an Angels Camp local came up to me at the Calaveras County Jumping Frog Jubilee.  He told me, in retrospect, it was apparent to a lot of county residents that they had killed a good economic engine by flooding the beautiful Stanislaus  River, which had brought so many visitors into the area.

Then, he turned to me and gave me some advice that has stuck with me ever since.  He said, “George, you Stanislaus River runners made a mistake.  You should have set up a local company that would have hired local young people to run the river.”  He went on to tell me that more of the locals would have then realized what they were giving up when they voted overwhelming, by a vote of about 80 – 20 in Calaveras and Tuolumne Counties, to flood the Stanislaus Canyon.

I have just returned from a tourism conference which celebrated some notable worldwide conservation successes.  The opening address resonated with words which have made a lot of sense to me over the years: “We save what we love and we love what we know.”  Those words inspire me to want to do more to share access to our river canyons with our young people and, through education, work to inspire them to want to save our wild places for the future.

The post True tales of an early river runner appeared first on River Currents.

Just published this month, we had the chance to get our hand’s on a copy of River Notes before it was available.  Here’s our review…

In 2006, filmmaker and conservationist Greg MacGillivray invited Wade Davis, acclaimed author and Explorer-in-Residence at the National Geographic Society, to take part in a Grand Canyon expedition. What resulted was not only the 3D IMAX film Grand Canyon Adventure, but also this fine historical adventure from Davis who simultaneously takes you back in time and downstream through some of the world’s most famous rapids.

In short, River Notes is everything you’ve ever wanted to know about the Colorado and more. In this surprisingly quick read (for how much info is packed into it), Davis paints an intimate portrait of the river’s past and urges us to consider its future. With an expert’s knowledge and storytelling finesse, he details the people of the river canyon’s past, like the Havasupai and John Wesley Powell. He dives into the mind-blowing geology dating back 1.8 billion years, and the wild stories that have become the legends of the “Great Unknown.” Through all this, he also weaves in a message of caution. He reminds us how much we’ve come to rely on the Colorado River and the past mistakes of earlier generations.

If you’ve ever pondered a trip down the Colorado through the Grand Canyon it’s definitely worth a pre-trip read. When the time comes, you’ll appreciate the journey all the more. And those who have had the great opportunity to travel by way of the river will cherish having this book by their side so they can slip back into the canyon and down the river whenever they feel the urge.

Lose yourself on the Colorado River.  Order River Notes here.

The post What you don’t know about the Colorado River appeared first on River Currents.

It can, friends. Oh, it can, and it does.

You might be an aficionado of brightly colored Hypalon rubber — how the waves lapping against it turn it into a drum, how it feels cushy on your bum.

(Yeah, that was supposed to rhyme. Sorry.)

But, there is an entirely different world, my river running people.

Open your mind, your heart, and be converted to the fandom of the dory.

What’s a dory? Well, first of all, fun with a capital “F.”

Even if you’ve experienced whitewater rapids from a perch in an inflatable raft, you should consider taking a river trip in a dory.

It’s a bucking bronco in the rapids. In the flatwater, it’s sleek and graceful.

Consider these common questions:

What is a dory?

It’s a hard-hulled boat, usually about 17 feet long. It gives you the authentic feel of an explorer from days of yore.

How many people does it hold?

Usually 4 passengers, plus the guide who rows from the center of the dory.

Is it comfortable?

Even though it’s hard-hulled, there’s a pad in a cut-out seat for each crew person.

Why this design?

Dories are based on the traditional wooden boats that explorer John Wesley Powell first took down the Grand Canyon. Fun, and history.

How’s the ride?

Did I mention fun? Dories give you a serious roller coaster ride. And this is a participatory deal: You’ll be challenged with helping the dory punch through waves by shifting your body weight.

Kids love riding in dories. If you’re really after a “classic” river experience, this is the way to go — the complete antithesis of a motorized boat. A lot of folks who try out dories never go back to their rubber cousins.

If this sounds intriguing, you should know dory trips can be had on almost every O.A.R.S. trip in Idaho and some in Cataract Canyon, in addition to the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon.

Have you had the pleasure of a dory ride? Tell these folks about it in the comments below.

The post How To End Up A Dory Convert appeared first on River Currents.

None of us gets enough time on this planet.

This is a fact we must recognize, but never dwell on for too long. If we do, it means we’re not out making the most of the short time we do have.

I will quote the modern philosopher here, one Mr. Dylan: “He not busy being born is busy dying.”

But, with such a big world out there to explore, so many people to meet and wonders to behold, it can be hard to know where to start. Fear not, we have a few suggestions, based on over 40 years of hearing “ooohs” and “ahhhhs” from all the friends we’ve taken to various destinations.

Whip out your “bucket list,” and consider adding all of these (at the top):

The Grand Canyon — This is more than just a national park. Since John Wesley Powell and company made that first trip through the Big Ditch, this marvel of nature has captivated the imagination of millions, all around the world. It has a powerful effect on people that my words will never convey. The rock, the river, the solitude, the splendor — very few places will leave you wondering about creation and your own sense of purpose like this place.

Machu Picchu — Six centuries ago, the Inca ruled an empire from 8,000 feet above sea level, in a city built along perilous cliffs. This UNESCO World Heritage Site will take you back in time, not just to Peru. You’ll marvel at how such a magnificent citadel could go “forgotten” by the world until the turn of the 20th century. And, need we add about experiencing the Andean culture, and rafting and zip lining in the Amazon?

Middle Fork of the Salmon River — The Frank Church Wilderness is the largest such protected area in the continental U.S. Through this pristine Idaho wilderness, there runs 100 miles of river, through granite canyons, alpine forest and grasslands. In those miles, you’ll find 100 sets of rapids, as well as Native American history, pioneer homesteads and a menagerie of wildlife. This is a bucket list item many people don’t even know they’re missing. Don’t be one of them.

Galápagos Islands — When you’re older and telling the stories to the great-grandkids, make sure you’ve got one in the arsenal about the blue-footed boobies, the lava lizards, and your face-to-face encounter with a penguin. Be sure you can explain how you walked in Darwin’s footsteps observing the amazing creatures found nowhere else on earth, and how you donned a mask and snorkel and went where Darwin never could. Don’t forget to tell them how you loved the sea kayaking, and the sea lions you could almost pet from the bow of the sailboat. “Ah, Ecuador,” you could tell them with a satisfied sigh.

Tatshenshini River — Here is another of the few places in the world that time forgot. Let us show you a slice of 27 million acres of Alaskan-Canadian wilderness. We’ll crawl across glacial moraines and sit beneath frozen waterfalls. We’ll raft this milky glacial river pondering the towering mountain ranges on either side. Arriving in Alsek Bay, we’ll try not to be intimidated by icebergs as big as houses, just like we did with the moose and grizzly bears we saw.

Rio Futaleufu — If your bucket list is rife with river trips, this one better be on it. “The Fu” is known in the whitewater world as one of the premier runs. This is heart-pounding class IV and V rafting in unmatched Patagonian terrain. Add to the boating some hiking, climbing, rappelling and horseback riding, and you’re talking about the adventure of a lifetime. You’ll be able to check both Argentina and Chile off your life’s travel list with this one, too.

Zambezi River — Things you’ll say after: “I thought it was already Class V rafting, but then we saw the hippos … I never knew an impala wasn’t a car until my safari in Botswana … From the helicopter, looking at the Batoka Gorge, it was as though the earth had cracked open and the water of Africa was rushing in to fill it … I learned it was one of the ‘7 Wonders of the World’ when we launched our rafts in the mist at the foot of Victoria Falls …” Make sure your bucket list includes rafting on at least 6 continents, and add the Zambezi.

Have you done any of these trips? Chime in in the comments to let people know I’m not exaggerating.

Which trip is most intriguing to you, if you’ve never been on any of them? I’d love to hear about it in the comments below.

The post Bucket List Ideas For A Fulfilled Life appeared first on River Currents.

If you have a soft spot in your heart for rivers, then chances are Martin Litton is on your list of heroes.

He first floated the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon in 1955 — the 185th known person to follow in explorer John Wesley Powell’s footsteps. Not long after, he founded Grand Canyon Dories and has since led scores of trips on the Colorado. In 2004 he broke his own record becoming the oldest person to row the entire Grand Canyon at the age of 87.

Lifelong environmentalist and wilderness activist, the now 95-year-old Litton continues to speak mostly with his actions. He’s currently on the Advisory Committee of the Southern Utah Wilderness Alliance, a former travel editor for Sunset Magazine and he fought alongside fellow activists David Brower and Edward Abbey against dam proposals and the logging of Sequoia National Forest and Giant Sequoia National Monument.

How were you introduced to rivers?

At one point, I learned that a river trip — a Norm Nevills river trip, called Mexican Hat Expeditions — in 1952 was going to be running Lava Falls on a certain day. I don’t know how I found that out, but Esther and I had already taken the Toroweap Leap, that is where you step off the rim of the canyon and the whole side of the canyon starts moving with you as you go down to the bottom (to the river). We had done that and had actually climbed out at that point by Lava Falls. Don’t ever try it, it’s horrible, but at least I knew the way down and I’d decided to make a newspaper story out of it for the Los Angeles Times.

So I went over there, and a couple ladies who had gone down the river with Mexican Hat Expeditions found out about it and wanted to go with me. So we drove over there to the Toroweap Overlook (as it’s called), above Lava Falls, and we went down the so called trail. There is no trail, but as one of the ladies said, “From the moment we stepped off the rim, it was always a question as to which would reach the river first — us or the topography,” because everything moves when you move down that slide. So anyway, we got down there and I photographed what they did — they lined Lava Falls, they never ran it in those days. There was also a big cabin cruiser, a motorboat, in-board that was there being driven by Bob Rig of the Rig Brothers — that boat ran Lava Falls. So that big boat ran Lava Falls and I’ve got movies of that and stills. Those pictures of that run appeared in the Los Angeles Times, along with the article about what they were doing.

That really got me acquainted with the river because these people who ran the river with Nevills were about the only ones doing it and would always have big barbeques afterward and show all their slides. And those barbeques would be out in the San Fernando Valley somewhere, in a backyard, at night, and they would show the slides — everybody would show every picture that he or she had taken on the entire river trip. So you sat out there all night, eating and drinking and watching slides. And one of the people I met doing that, who had not been on the river at any time that I was associated with it, was P.T. Riley. He got in touch with me by phone later having met me there at this party, and wanted me to go down the river with him and row one of his boats that he was building out of fiberglass.

He knew I’d been on the crew rowing at UCLA, as if that would’ve had anything to do with skill on the river, it really wouldn’t, but as a result of that, even though I couldn’t row on the first trip because I’d had a bad accident with a horse and dislocated my shoulder. My arm was strapped to my side for the entire trip, 21 days; so I couldn’t row a boat on my first trip through the canyon. I was a passenger, and Esther went, she was a passenger, and there were a total — I think — of nine people on that trip taking these boats that P.T. Riley had made, which turned out to be [laughs] not very good boats. That started me.

Which river trip stands out most in your mind?

Maybe the second one which was the first time I rowed the boat all the way through with Esther, but actually until we got into dories — when we were no longer running those ridiculous little boats — we didn’t have great river trips because any trip in which you line a rapid and don’t run it can’t be really 100 percent great. We have to be able to handle all the rapids in the Grand Canyon, nothing from the shore, everything happens on the river, the boat makes it through and you hope you’ll be right side up at the other end, and we usually are.

What’s special about a dory?

Anyone who asks that question, what is special about a dory, has obviously never gone through the Grand Canyon in a dory. A dory is a shape that belongs on the river; it started in the ocean, conquered the waves of the ocean, and now conquers the waves or crashing water of almost any river. A dory is made for people to be in, it has the right shape. And in a Grand Canyon dory, you have the right places to put things, including yourself. The oarsman is accommodated as if the dory were made for him (or her), and it just belongs. I could describe the shape of a dory, which is a row boat, doesn’t have to be a row boat, it could have a motor on it, but ours never did; a boat propelled by two oars in the hands of a single oarsman because the decisions that are made as to the strokes you take and how you do the rowing have to be unanimous. The only way you get a unanimous decision is to have just one person making that decision, and the boatman (the oarsman) is responsible for what happens in the river because he/she is the one propelling and guiding the boat.

They show their utility, they say to you, “I belong on big waves; I’m stable, I’m sturdy, I’m wanting to go, and I respond to the oars beautifully,” that’s bragging, in a way, “and I’ll go where you want me to go, and I’ll carry what you want me to carry.” That’s what the dory does no matter how the water behaves.

How have modern-day dories evolved?

It’s hard to know how a dory evolved into the shape that it is now; although, you can say conditions caused that to happen. People wanted to go fishing in rough water in the Atlantic Ocean, Europeans. Gradually, they developed boats that were — more or less — self-righting (certainly were stable, as stable as you could get in big waves) and that were easy to maneuver, easy to row and that would move with pretty good speed. And gradually we came into the shape of what we call a dory. We say that the best representation of that was in Portugal, in the ocean fishing boats. Gradually that went West into the United States and we had fishing boats in New England that were similar; self-righting almost, very stable, easy to row, they moved readily when asked to, and so we got an Indian name, though I don’t know the evolution of the name dory exactly, but they say it’s an adaptation of an American Indian word, duri from the Caribbean Sea.

Then it became dory in New England and of course many, many fishing boats in New England are dories, rowed with oars (some are motored, of course, out into the ocean). When they moved west, we called them dories, eventually, but they were first called drift boats, mostly in Oregon where there are lots of runnable rivers and they were used for fishing, floating with the current of a river. Such as the Rogue River or the Mackenzie, and we ended up with a boat very similar, though not as big as the Grand Canyon dory. A Grand Canyon dory has to be bigger because it has to carry passengers through the canyon, not just one or two fisherman, and it has to be able to carry a load. It has to be able to haul all the equipment and all the supplies that are going to be needed on a trip of two or three weeks through the Grand Canyon which is going to take, well, time, obviously! And two or three weeks going through the Grand Canyon you need a hefty amount of supplies, so you put them in the dory, and once you close up the hatches, you hardly know they’re there. It just runs beautifully.

Why did you choose George Wendt and O.A.R.S. to carry on the dory legacy in the Grand Canyon?

The word got around, somehow, that I had other things to do. Grand Canyon Dories was doing alright, but that someone else could be owning it and managing it, yet I wasn’t willing to let it go just as a river running company and into some other hands in which it would run differently.

Things were going on in my life that demanded my attention and my presence more. I didn’t really want to stop what I was doing there, but owning Grand Canyon Dories was just too much fun. I couldn’t be having fun all the time, you know you’re not supposed to be happy in this world [laughs], and so I was ready to give up something that had made me very happy and which I’d enjoyed greatly. One of the conditions of the sale was that it would always be dories, and it would always be oar powered and they would run the trips the way we had run them. George happily signed up for that, there wasn’t a great deal of money involved. It could’ve gone higher if I had accepted some of the propositions I had from others, but George was the one I had faith in to do it right. He was doing it right with his oar-powered trips anyway, he just needed a little bit of an upgrade and that upgrade would be dories.

It said it on his license plate, “WE ROW,” and that meant that he was an advocate for rowing, so that gave him a pretty good place in my heart as one of those who wanted Grand Canyon Dories, who wanted to buy Grand Canyon Dories.

What is the most important issue facing us today?

The obvious, most important issue is numbers of people. The earth is already terribly overcrowded and overcrowding causes people to move around. In our case it causes people to move from Mexico to California, and [chuckles] we’re overcrowded. It’s the most important issue on the earth — movements of people, and growing numbers of people.

What is one thing you wish you had accomplished?

I wish I had accomplished some things in conservation that I did not. We could’ve stopped Glen Canyon Dam and we didn’t, but we didn’t try hard enough. We tried very hard in Grand Canyon dams and even harder in Dinosaur National Monument dams — those were our first big issue, and we beat them. Those were said to be necessary for the development of the West. Well we didn’t get them built, we fought against them, and they turned out to be unnecessary.

What are your favorite books about rivers?

What comes into my head immediately, and if I were to think longer I might find more, but a great book as far as the rivers are concerned (especially the Colorado River) is, Time and the River Flowing by Francoise Leydet. He’s one of the greatest writers in history that had a few problems that he couldn’t overcome, but when he did sit down and write a book it was a masterpiece. The amount of work that went into that is not only amazing, but the result is amazing. Time and the River Flowing: Grand Canyon by Francoise Leydet. Another one that he did was called, The Last Redwoods about saving the redwoods, and as a result of that book, more than any other thing, we obtained Redwood National Park.

Who are some of your heroes?

What’s heroic about having a good time? That’s what you’re doing when you’re in the Grand Canyon. Maybe not every minute, if you end up out of the boat and in the water, and the boats upside-down, you don’t feel heroic at that time.

What about conservation role models?

It certainly included David Brower who was the greatest conservationist of all time, that doesn’t limit him to the Grand Canyon though, I’m speaking of worldwide events. Dave Wegner, he worked for the Bureau of Reclamation and his job was to persuade the river runners and other conservationists that there could be dams in the Grand Canyon damming up the Colorado River in a way that would be acceptable. We said, ‘No, it will never be acceptable to put any dams in the Grand Canyon.’ And gradually, this guy from the Bureau of Reclamation who was trying to persuade us to accept dams in the Grand Canyon, came around to our side of the issue. He became a conservationist and brought the Bureau of Reclamation around in a way, and he himself more or less would not let them do what they wanted to do. As a result of that, partly, we didn’t get the dams. Dave Wegner stayed with the government and is involved in conservation within the government now in Washington D.C., he has a very responsible position, and the Bureau of Reclamation as you know doesn’t have any more ambitions about dams in the Grand Canyon, partly because we – as a group of people – talked Dave Wegner out of the idea.

[Paraphrasing Wind in the Willows…] “There is nothing, absolutely nothing quite so much worth doing, as simply messing about in boats.”

Say hi to Martin in the comments section below!

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He wanted to focus more intimately on the whitewater rafting business he started in 1969, which was intended to be a weekend-only business but soon became a full time gig. As the founder and president of O.A.R.S. and recent recipient of the Adventure Travel Trade Association’s Lifetime Achievement Award, George is a true pioneer in the adventure travel industry. His passion for running rivers was born in the 60s before the inception of his company, when he became one of the first 1,100 people to descend the seldom-traveled Colorado River through the Grand Canyon.

In the decades since, O.A.R.S. has set the industry standard for first-class rafting as well as environmentally and culturally responsible travel on over 35 rivers and coastlines worldwide. To date they’ve positively affected the lives of over 500,000 travelers and in 2008 and 2009 the company was recognized by National Geographic Adventure as “The Best River & Sea Outfitter on Earth” based on education, sustainability, quality of service, spirit of adventure and references.

Over the last four decades, George has testified before the Senate Subcommittee on River Preservation on behalf of American Outfitters, helped found an eco-tourism operation in Fiji and donated countless hours and numerous trips to support youth and community organizations around the county. George is a founding member of the Adventure Collection and a regular speaker at the annual International Ecotourism Society conference. In 2006 George joined producer/director Greg MacGillivray in the Grand Canyon with Robert F. Kennedy Jr. and Anthropologist Wade Davis for the filming of the IMAX movie, Grand Canyon Adventure: River at Risk, a story about the global disappearing act of fresh, clean water and wild rivers.

Many consider you a pioneer in adventure travel. How did you go from teaching middle school math to running rivers?

It was actually a fairly easy transition because as a middle school teacher I had summer vacations free. So that meant that after the last class in mid-June, I could take off for a summer of doing river trips. We did the Grand Canyon, Middle Fork of the Salmon, Cataract Canyon, [etc.] and it was something that really allowed me to recharge my batteries for the next school year.

How has O.A.R.S. evolved to meet the needs of your travelers over the last 40 years?

As our clients have gotten older, can you believe our client at one time was about 29 years years old? And they were very active as a camper. Over the years, we’ve found the typical client has gotten older and older, and today our typical client is 47 or 48 and these people in general are less willing to rough it. Therefore, we’ve had to create more creature comforts, we now supply real nice foam pads for people, we have more quality meals and we’ve actually added chairs to most of our trips. In the olden days – 35 years ago – people would sit on the ammunition case that we supplied and that was their seat for the evening. Not nearly as comfortable as the nice chairs we have now; we have better quality tents, of course the whole outdoor equipment field has evolved considerably the last 35 – 40 years.

What are the fundamental components of a good river trip?

Quality guides is number one. Great guides that are not only skilled in taking people through the rapids, but also in sharing their love for the outdoors, which ties in to telling them about the natural geology and the history of the area. It involves having good quality equipment and a very dedicated reservation staff that makes the pre-trip planning effortless.

Generally, what kinds of people take the trips you offer? What are the benefits of a guided trip?

As a professional outfitter we’ve gained the support of the National Park Service, the Bureau of Land Management and the US Forest Service, so we have dedicated trips that are available so that people can plan in advance for a trip. We take care of pretty much all the logistical details so there aren’t car shuttles that have to be done before or after the trip. Guided trips offer a tremendous number of advantages and the biggest one probably is the nice people who come on our trips, who are [typically] not all from one group. We may get a couple from Seattle, or a single attorney from Chicago, or we could get a professional accountant who travels west for her first trip all the way from Atlanta. So it’s a diverse group of people and that’s the fun [typically] on a trip with about 16 people, to get to know a lot of different professionals from different parts of the country.

What would you say to someone who is apprehensive about camping?

Actually, there is no need to be apprehensive about going off on one of our trips because we specialize in catered camping. We make it real easy since the guides take care of the camp set-up, they take care of the food detail, they set up the portable toilet and the chairs for people every evening. They’ll get out the horseshoes and it’s just a relaxed experience. The guides – both male and female – are happy to take any novice camper aside, without embarrassing them, and give them some coaching about how they can take care of their feet or anything else they might be especially concerned about.

What is the most common question that people ask you?

Where do we go to the bathroom? [Laughs]. And so this year we added a special page in the back of our 2011 O.A.R.S. catalog that shows the nice, portable toilet that we take along on the river because, as we’re trying to be good stewards of the resource, and to make it easy for our clients, this portable toilet containerizes human waste. We then take it to an approved sanitary facility after the trip.

You must have “a few” stories to share, what is one of your favorite tales to tell?

A long time ago, I got this phone call from an advertising agency in Chicago asking if I had a stamp collection. I thought that was a little bit of an unusual question, but I confirmed that I did collect stamps, and they decided that they would do a major print ad and video ad that actually ran as a 30-second commercial promoting the sale of postage stamps to collectors. This ad ran on Super Bowl Sunday, it showed at least twice during the game (maybe three times) and it was seen by millions of people all over the country. My son at the time who also was in the ad was only 3 years old, but today he is 35 and is one of the managers in the company.

What have you enjoyed most about the last 40 years?

The thing that charges me up more than anything else is hearing from clients after the trip. We get letters, phone calls and emails from people who I think very sincerely tell us that this was the best adventure vacation, or sometimes even the best vacation, they’ve ever had. And that’s especially true because families have an opportunity to dialogue together without the intrusion from various electronic devices which impact most families at home.

Got a question for George? Give him a shout in the comments below!

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