Approaching Paria Riffle at Mile 1 on the River.  The First of many patches of turbulent white water.

At Lee's Ferry...

The day starts with sunrise over the rim of the Canyon.  The sun illuminates the hills on the southside of the river first, then the line of bright daylight rolls toward us from downstream in a reverse flow to the progression of the river.  We rise slowly, coughing, yawning, shaking the sand from our sleeping gear.  Slowly we make our way toward the rest rooms the Park Service operates to start our daily routine.  The river beckons, but there is much to be done.

We start in earnest with coffee.  River sludge.  Boiled coffee grounds in large coffee pots, we unpack fruit, cereal, milk and sweetrolls provided by the outfitter.  The boats are loaded to quiet chatter, occasionally broken by laughter, a shout, a splash.  Once loaded, the sun now hot overhead, we make our way to the Lee's Ferry  Ranger Station where Ranger Dave treats us to a slide show about river etiquette and rules.  We learn to pee directly into the mainstream of the Colorado, but if off-river to seek high and dry.  We learn that we better chlorinate our drinking water to avoid the Norwalk virus, a gift of the poor management of that great error in human judgement and decision-making, Glen Canyon Dam.  We learn that a hand to the top of the head in an up-down motion means we are in trouble.  We are also directed to some apricots growing behind the ranger station.  Because our party has changed due to Charley's elderly dad having fallen and broken his hip, we have to go through some convoluted motions changing who can go and not go.  While calling Charlie, we learn that a private trip scheduled for tomorrow has cancelled.  Unbelievable.  No matter what, I'd be on that trip.

Finally, free of the bureaucracy of the Park Service, a few go for apricots - much to our later regret - and make our way to the boats.  It is after 12 noon when we finally hit the river and begin our journey.