Grand Canyon Dory Trip

Zoroaster Rapid unfolded as a long, wave-filled run where the river stretched wide and the current braided around scattered rocks and submerged ledges. From above, we could see a broad tongue of smooth water feeding into a line of rolling, glassy waves that shimmered in the midday light. We steered the dory into the main channel, letting the current gather us up and carry us into the first set of standing waves. The boat rose and fell rhythmically, the bow cutting cleanly through each crest and sending cool sprays of water drifting across the deck.

Horn Creek Rapid loomed ahead with a deep, throaty roar that echoed off the narrow canyon walls and signaled one of the bigger drops of this stretch. The river funneled tightly between sheer cliffs, and the horizon line disappeared sharply as the current gathered speed and power. We lined up the dory carefully for the narrow chute on the right, knowing that precision mattered here. As we dropped in, a towering wave rose quickly in front of us, lifting the bow high before slamming us into a deep trough where cold water exploded over the deck and drenched us from head to toe.

Grapevine Rapid came into view with a sprawling spread of waves and powerful currents braided across a wide section of the river. As we approached, the current accelerated and split around a series of boulders and submerged rocks that sculpted multiple lines through the rapid. We aimed the dory into the main left run, where a set of steep, frothing waves stacked tightly together. The bow lifted sharply over the first crest and then plunged into a deep trough, sending a cold sheet of water surging over the front and splashing across our laps.

Sockdolager Rapid announced itself with the deep, steady roar of big water echoing off the canyon walls long before we could see it clearly. As we approached, the river dropped into a wide, turbulent chute where powerful standing waves marched across the channel in bold, rolling sets. The horizon line dipped sharply and the dory surged forward, catching the first crest with a dramatic lift that sent the bow skyward before plunging us deep into the following trough.

75 Mile Rapid came into view as a short, punchy run tucked along a bend where the river narrowed and the current gathered its force. From upstream, we could see a tight line of waves breaking sharply across the main channel, their white crests standing out against the deep green water. As we guided the dory into position, the pace of the river quickened and the boat responded eagerly, slipping into the first wave with a crisp lift of the bow.

Tanner Rapid stretched wide across the river, a sprawling maze of waves and channels that demanded our full attention as we approached. The river fanned out over a broad gravel bar, with scattered rocks breaking the surface and creating multiple tongues of swift current threading through the shallows. We lined up the dory toward a clean chute on the left side, where the water gathered speed and built into a series of fast-moving standing waves. As we dropped in, the bow lifted and fell rhythmically over the waves, each trough sending a cool splash across the deck.

The confluence of the Little Colorado River was a striking meeting of waters, where the deep green of the Colorado mingled with the surreal turquoise-blue flow of the Little Colorado. As we rowed toward the junction, the canyon seemed to open slightly, revealing soft, sculpted limestone ledges and a broad, shallow channel where the lighter water shimmered vividly against the darker current. We pulled the dory to shore and stepped out onto warm, smooth rocks, the air thick with the sound of rushing water and the gentle rustle of wind through tamarisk and willow along the banks.

Nankoweap Camp unfolded on a broad, inviting stretch of beach with sweeping views both up and down the canyon. As we eased the dory onto the shore, the expansive sandbar gave us plenty of space to spread out and settle in, with the towering cliffs of Nankoweap Canyon standing sentinel just upstream. The afternoon light poured down the wide corridor, lighting up the crimson and cream layers of rock and casting sharp shadows along the cliff faces. A gentle breeze stirred across the camp, carrying the faint scent of sage and warming sand.

Saddle Canyon Camp welcomed us with a wide, sandy bench tucked beneath towering canyon walls, a perfect place to pause and settle in after a full day on the river. As we pulled the dory onto the shore, the afternoon light warmed the soft sand underfoot and cast a golden glow across the layered cliffs rising steeply behind the camp. A clear stream from Saddle Canyon trickled nearby, its cool, fresh water winding through polished stones and feeding a thin line of bright green vegetation that stood out against the red rock.

Riding along with Roger Dale is like riding with an encyclopedia for hours on end. This was aboard the Santa Ana as we powered through Marble Canyon on the way to Nankoweap.