White-water Rafting on the Salt

WHITE

They knew this was not going to be an easy rafting trip, these five men and a woman who had joined with photographer Richard D. Fisher to run the most difficult and remote portion of the Salt River, aptly called the “Upper, Upper Salt.” A 39mile section of unpredictable water, the Salt forms a natural boundary between the Fort Apache and San Carlos Indian reservations in east-central Arizona. They'd heard all the stories about river runners colliding with rocks and hurtling into rapids while their doomed crafts careened over waterfalls and out of sight. But Fisher, who would act as guide on the trip, had planned carefully, among other things, selecting two small 9-foot, 5inch self-bailing rubber rafts for the descent. He'd also selected the right time of year for the run. March and April meant snowmelt from the mountains in the northeast would be rushing down the river's forks to flood the Salt at about 2,000 cubic feet per second.

WATER! graphs by Richard D. Fisher

But even with careful planning things can go wrong, as later events would tell. "In these high-water trips," said Fisher, "there's plenty of tension. If it's been a hot day, the snow will melt much more quickly, and the river could rise as much as 10 feet overnight. You can't pitch camp very close to the river, and you don't sleep well at all because you have to be vigilant."

For some reason, Fisher felt the need to be especially alert this trip. In an effort to put aside his vague concern, he reminded himself that the six people who would accompany him were experienced and worked well together. Four of them — Barbara Grandstaff, Phil Smith, and brothers Tim and Chris Bathen — had been on other expeditions with him.

On the day chosen for the launch, the party of seven piled into two trucks and headed northeast out of Phoenix on U.S. Route 60. Twenty-five miles north of Globe, the highway gradually curves down five miles to meet the river, then bridges the water. They parked one truck on a ridge near the Route 60 bridge, where — if the trip proved successful — they would pull out five days hence.

They drove the second truck, a fourwheel-drive vehicle, on Indian Route 9 across the rugged San Carlos reservation to the Black River and what they'd selected as a starting point. They secured their backpacks and Fisher's camera gear beneath nets inside the two inflated rubber rafts. With life jackets pulled tightly over their neoprene suits, they pushed off into the icy water of the Black. The high-country air, heavy with the smell of pine and juniper, was brisk and loaded with moisture, making for a shivering start. As they began paddling, a female bald eagle appraised them from its nest; its mate suddenly taking wing, making a graceful arc across the canyon.

By noon they'd struck the junction of the Black and White rivers where the streams unite to become the Salt. Around them massive walls of the Salt River Canyon rose nearly a thousand feet in places, then dropped steeply until the rock walls nearly merged with the banks of the rushing waters. Here and there where the river had cut through sills of marble-smooth diabase, waterfalls had formed, forcing the team to portage around them.

Fisher unpacked his camera gear to capture on film the contrast of the shimmering green surface of the water against the coalblack diabase and the arches of silver and gold strata.

Little time was spent reveling in the photogenic pools, though, since the air was nearly as cold as the water. After a day of running icy white water, a huge campfire that night was much appreciated. Throughout the third and fourth days, the sun soared in the heavens above the canyon, following their adventure as they spilled through some of the most treacherous rapids in the system, rushing down into huge pools that led to more rapids and yet more pools.

As the fourth day wore on, rapids were running higher and wilder. Enormous green waves pounded the rocks and flung the tiny rafts helter-skelter from crags into deep swirling whirlpools. Several times the crews had to portage where rapids shot through mazes of giant boulders and stampeded over 30-foot vertical drops. They had early on eliminated heavy items fromtheir gear, but, even so, carrying backpacks and rafts along the rock-strewn ridges was still a sweaty task. That night, footsore and soaked, they pitched camp near a fresh-water spring and dined on burritos. Overhead the glint of trillions of stars blanketed the heavens as the group shared stories of past advenPictures. In the terrific dark with only the firelight to keep them company, they felt as though they were alone in the world. The only interruption was a sighting later of what appeared to be tiny moving lights high in the sky to the west. Fisher was first to realize that the moving lights were actually nothing more strange than headlights.

WATER!

Route 60 was directly above the steep wall of the canyon.

Though sunlight bathed the canyon again on the fifth morning, the air felt colder than it had the day before, and the rapids were even more violent. How strange the contrast appeared between the soft spring light and the frothy whitecaps that rose and flooded their rafts. Later in the morning, they paddled to shore to scout the length of one particular rapid but couldn't as the river cut around a sharp corner. More curious than apprehensive, they launched their crafts once more, sat-isfied that the visible portion of the rapid was manageable.

(OPPOSITE PAGE) With the wild rapids of the Salt River Canyon just below this spot on the rim, our expedition marveled at the peaceful meadows and gently rolling bills dotted with ponderosa pines, alligator junipers, and oaks.

(LEFT) Even at low water, the river offers a challenging ride, as Jill Bielawski and Jim Marshall discovered on a previous trip.

(ABOVE) During the lower part of the run, river runners often must portage the rafts.

But as Fisher's raft lurched around the sharp bend, they immediately confronted a massive boulder almost blocking out the sky. At first it appeared the huge rock had completely closed the way. But there was just enough room to slide by on the right, a solution Fisher had only seconds to figure out. With a shout to Fear, self-preservation and the deadening cold of the icy water kept them struggling fiercely as they tumbled helplessly through the rapid. Bobbing to the surface at last, they wrestled their way to the raft, and, with the help of the two left on board, the craft was heaved to the bank. Just as the second raft came tearing around the corner.

Frozen by the sight of what lay in their path, the crew struck the boulder head on, the waters of the rapid raging over them, flipping the raft upside down and plunging the party deep into the water.

What could easily have been a whole sale disaster turned out to be only a freezing dunking for the crew when, long seconds later, buoyed by their life preservers, their heads popped up like corks as they sputtered for air. Then the current sucked them down once more.

With luck or just plain fear, whatever may have been the driving force, they surfaced several hundred feet from where they had first struck the boulder. Then, just as they reached safety on the shore, their inverted raft launched itself over a waterfall and disappeared from sight.

Knowing that if the raft were not recovered, it would mean a long, dangerous, and painful hike out of the canyon longer if the weather failed to hold and their food ran out Chris Bathen tore off downriver, ignoring boulders and prickly bushes, after the raft. A half-mile later, he found it spinning slowly. Plunging into the current, his arms flaying the water, he retrieved the raft then jumped back in once more to grab the paddles.

With the excitement, it wasn't until later that everyone noticed the ominous change in the weather. The sky had turned dusty gray and the temperature plummeted. Unruly winds roared in from the west, funneling through the canyon as sleet started blasting in sideways, stinging their faces and nearly blinding them.

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Now they were no longer just a group out for a bit of adventure, they realized, but seven very cold individuals who had to move fast, or freeze.

Chris Bathen, his body throbbing from the frigid dunkings he'd taken, hadn't felt the full impact of the cold until he'd limped out of the water with the retrieved paddles. "When I got out of the river," he remarked later, "I really felt it. I crouched down beside a huge rock where the wind wouldn't hit me and just shivered. Finally, somebody grabbed me and told me we had to start paddling again."

They might have stopped to build a fire in a dry area beneath an overhang, but they knew they were close to the highway bridge where the truck was parked, and realized it would be safer to push on.

The first raft launched without incident, but as soon as the second craft touched the water it was snatched up in a rapid, tossing the crew and their boat over house-size boulders and crashing them down on the opposite side, where whitecaps whirled like dervishes.

Still-miraculously - upright, the crew of three paddled furiously despite the umbing cold that made them clumsy-fin gered and slow. Finally, they were free of the rapid, and managed to continue on.

One more waterfall remained to be faced just before the Route 60 bridge came into sight and where the truck waited. But this time, the wayfarers in the second raft were taking no chances. They pulled to shore and de-rigged the raft, hoisting the equipment

WATER! WHEN YOU GO

Permits: The White Mountain Game and Fish Department does not presently allow rafting of the "Upper Upper" Salt because it can be extremely hazardous. Camping and hiking along this section of the river is allowed, though. For information on camping permits, contact the White Mountain Game and Fish Department, P.O. Box 220, Whiteriver, AZ 85941; telephone (602) 338-4385; or the San Carlos Recreation and Wildlife Department, P.O. Box 97, San Carlos, AZ 85550; telephone (602) 475-2343.

Where to go: The raftable portion of the river, called the Upper Salt, begins at the Highway 60 bridge and flows west through the Tonto National Forest. It is a very challenging ride with class IV rapids. The Forest Service does not require a permit for the general public to run the Upper Salt, but permits are required for running that portion of the river located on the Indian reservations.

Getting there: From Interstate Route 10 in Phoenix, take U.S. Route 60 east to Globe. From Globe, take State 77/U.S. 60 north for 29 miles. The highway curves down and bridges the Salt River. To launch a raft from the south bank of the river (San Carlos Indian Reservation), turn onto the narrow road about 50 yards upstream from the bridge. This road drops sharply to a parking area near the river. To launch from the north bank (Fort Apache Indian Reservation), turn left on the road located about 100 yards north of (or after you cross) the bridge. After about 50 yards, turn left again onto a narrow road that goes under the bridge to a launching point upstream. Because this area of the river is on the reservations, either a San Carlos or a Fort Apache river-running permit is required, depending on which reservation you are on. The tribes are considering an agreement to honor each other's permits, but at press time this had not been accomplished. Permits cost $10.00. You can buy Fort Apache permits from the Salt River Canyon Inn, a store located about 100 yards east of the bridge. You must purchase San Carlos permits in San Carlos.

There are numerous other river access points downstream from the U.S. 60 bridge, along this 51 1/2-mile section of the river. The most popular is the Mule Hoof Campground about 1/2 mile from the turnoff on the Fort Apache side of the river. Some access points have a paved road and parking areas while others require either a four-wheel-drive or high-clearance vehicle. Detailed information on each river access point is provided in a booklet provided by the Tonto National Forest, Supervisor's Office, 2324 E. McDowell Rd., Phoenix, AZ 85010; telephone (602) 225-5200; or the Globe Ranger District, Route 1, Box 33, Globe, AZ 85501; telephone (602) 425-7189.

Necessary information: The rapids change dramatically with the water level. Raftable flows usually begin in mid-March and end in late May, depending on the winter snowpack. In drought years, the river may not be raftable. Information on water flow may be obtained from the Salt River Project, telephone (602) 236-5929 or 236-3333. A small raft or kayak is best suited for this river. Open canoes or large rafts (more than 15 feet) are unfit. Motors are prohibited.

Weather: Peak season temperatures range from the high 90s to the low 60s. Storms with heavy rains and/or snow are frequent in March, but the remainder of the season is usually clear and sunny.

What else to do and see: The patchwork colors and different geologic formations of the Salt River Canyon are impressive. There also are numerous side canyons that veer off from the Salt River, offering excellent hiking opportunities.

Wildlife: Several threatened or endangered species can be found along the Salt River and nearby canyons. Among these are the southern bald eagle, the peregrine falcon, and the lowland leopard frog.

Vegetation: The vegetation along the river ranges from pine, juniper, and cottonwood trees to giant saguaro cacti.

heights of the canyon walls. Somehow, the feeling they shared was one of elation, knowing they'd had the run of their lives and had lived to talk about it.

Karen Brandel lives in Tucson and has contributed to Tucson Magazine and Phoenix magazine.

Richard D. Fisher has documented canyons in Arizona, Mexico, South America, China, and Tibet. His latest book is National Parks of Northern Mexico (Sunracer Publications, 1990).