Friday morning we got up early.  Our friend, Janice Sheftel (a water rights attorney here in Durango), was coming out to ride with us.  We packed our bags with clothes, rain gear, Deep Woods bug spray, and sunscreen.  We met some the San Juan Archaeological Society folks just in front of our development and headed for Bluff, Utah.  Bluff is located beside the San Juan River.  The San Juan is a tributary of the Colorado River.  It runs into the Colorado just above the Grand Canyon and drains much of the Four Corners area where Arizona, Colorado, New Mexico and Utah all meet. 

We were caravanning with three cars.  We stopped in Cortez for a coffee break and then drove the long, lovely, but lonely road through McElmo Canyon.  By 11:45 we were in the little bitty town of Bluff.  Get out your maps and look it up.  It is in the southeastern corner of Utah – a part of the 4 Corners area. 

Immediately upon arriving, we went into the Twin Rocks Trading Post and shopped a little.  I bought two sand rock carvings of Navajo Indian figures.  One of the ladies in the group told me all about ‘Mud Toys” and other funky Navajo art.  I had seen the things before, but I really didn’t know anything about them.  I like the mud toys, and I even have acquired a taste for the funky Navajo art now that I have heard all about it.  This lady that taught me about it, Foxie Mason, has quite a collection of the funky art and the Mud Toys.  I hope to see her house one of these days and her huge collection.

After a little shopping we went next door to the Twin Rocks Restaurant that sits beneath two side-by-side buttes and enjoyed a delightful lunch.  Paul and I split a Navajo Taco that was made on Indian fry bread.  It was very good.  I do recommend this place for eating out.  They served our rather large group quickly, and the food was especially tasty and filling.

After lunch we went on our first tour to the Bluff Cemetery.  The president of the San Juan Archeological Society, Andy Guilford, was our leader and talked at length about the Mormon’s settling in Bluff in 1880.  The Mormons had a really hard time getting to this little valley with their wagons.  The valley is surrounded by beautiful red cliffs that have no easy roads through them.  The Mormons finally entered the valley through the “Hole in the Wall” and lowered their wagons down the cliffs with pulleys and ropes.  Amazingly no one was killed in this descent.  The Mormons established homes and farms here by the San Juan River.  They eventually left Bluff because of the river flooding their fields.  They moved 50 miles to the north and founded Blanding.  The Mormon influence is still very alive in Bluff, however.  The scenery is fantastic.  It is an oasis in the desert and is dry.  The availability of water allows the community to have trees and green fields.  However, standing in Bluff I immediately realized that the desert is never far away.  The starkness of the red, sandstone cliffs that surround Bluff on three sides makes one feel almost isolated in a wilderness.  The town is little containing only about 300 people.

We viewed the cemetery graves and the names of the original Mormon settlers.  Lots of the founders and early settlers had several wives.  After our tour we drove about a mile farther west just outside of Bluff so that we could hike back to the Sand Dune Petroglyphs.  We started the 2-mile hike with the sun shining brightly.  It was hot and quite windy. 

Of course, you may remember that my right foot with my new big toe joint is still very sore and swollen.  The only shoes that I can wear at this time are big bright pink medical Crocks.  I decided that I would hike in these strange shoes.  I told everyone to go ahead of me.  I was surely going to be slower than they were as I limped through the sand and the cacti.  I really had to watch that I didn’t step into a cactus.  The plastic Crocks would not offer much protection against the sharp desert cacti thorns.  It would have really hurt my feet if I had walked into a cactus.  However, just walking through the deep sand was a struggle, but I didn’t drag too far behind. 

We got about a mile out on the way to the Sand Dunes when a summer storm came up, and it started raining heavily.  We all turned around and everyone who could run ran (I couldn’t run, I just limped) back the way that we had come.  Friends in town later told me that it hailed when the storm came.  I didn’t notice any hail.  I didn’t have on raingear, but I covered my face with my brimmed hat and tried to hurry along as fast as I could.  I had on a long sleeved shirt.  (I am never out bare skinned in the sun.)  I didn’t feel the hail.  I felt big heavy pelting drops of rain.  We all got soaked.  Eventually the slow group of hikers (of which I was a part) got back beside the cottage where our leader was staying.  We all left the trail and ran over to this shelter.  Guilford, our tour leader, unlocked the door to this cottage in the desert, and we gratefully went in and waited for the rain to lighten. 

Paul had run ahead of me along with the “fast” group.  I hollered at Paul in an attempt to get him to stop and turn around.  However, he never heard me and hiked the extra quarter of a mile back to the place where our car was parked.  He waited in the car wondering where I was.  However, when he didn’t see me on the trail behind him, he guessed that I must have gone into the house near the trail.  This was the only place that I could have been.  Soon the rain slowed down and Paul drove up to the house to pick me up.  The hike was canceled, and we all left to go back to our motels and rooms.

Paul and I checked into the Desert Rose Motel.  We had a nice room and a very comfortable bed.  TV is limited in Bluff, but we were too busy to watch much TV anyway.   We were able to lie down to rest that afternoon and to take a little nap.  It is very good for me to get off of my foot sometime in the afternoon and to let the swelling lessen.  The swelling causes the pain level to rise.  My foot always seems to hurt more in the late afternoons and evenings.  However, I was quite proud of myself for making the short hike that I did.  It was supposed to have been a 2-hour hike.  I made about 45 minutes of it without causing huge problems for the group.  I had made my first long walk since the surgery. 

That night we had a dinner at a private restaurant.  It was fun to be with this group of very interesting older people.  They have a wealth of knowledge about a lot of different subjects.  The food was good, and we were hungry after our exciting hike in the rain.  After the leisure dinner we went to the lobby of the Desperado Motel, where most of the people in our group were staying, and viewed a slide show that a local photographer had taken of the cliffs and buttes around Bluff.  The pictures were magnificent and revealed beautiful scenes of the area in all seasons of the year.  We were tired after the show, and bedtime did not come too early for us that evening.

We woke up early the next morning so that we could be at the Wild Rivers Rafting Tours headquarters by 7:45 AM.  We loaded our individual gear into vans for the short ride down to the San Juan River.  It was a beautiful day – a little cloudy, but it was not raining yet.  Rain was predicted for the afternoon, and we all brought our rain gear.  We went to the river and unloaded the rafts at Sand Island.  Sand Island was almost crowded that day.  There were our 3 rafts, and several other individuals’ rafts being unloaded and readied for entry into the water.  We gathered around our rafting leader to hear the lengthy safety instructions.  We were given waterproof metal canisters to store our delicate equipment in.  We each were given a life jacket and then each of us was checked to be sure that we had the jacket on tight enough.  I felt a little restricted and was glad that I didn’t have big boobs.  The tight life jackets would have really mashed them down.  However, if we spilled into the water, I am sure that I would have been very glad to have that tight life jacket on. 

Our last civilized restroom (although it was only an outhouse with a door that actually locked) for the day was on the shore at Sandy Beach. I have always felt comfortable going off into the woods and doing my “thing”.  I grew up in West Texas, and I have peed outside since I was a small girl.  But I discovered that on this trip I was going to be told exactly how I should do “it”.   Our guide instructed us on the correct river “pottying” etiquette, which I will now explain to you.  The guide told us that we could not just go up into the brush and “peepee”.  Our doing this would cause the side of the river to stink.  His exact words were, “The sides of the river will get to smelling like a cat litter box.  And we don’t want that now, do we?”  We were instructed to go just a little ways away from where our rafts were parked on the shore and to wade into the water, pull down our pants, and pee into the water.  The river would wash away our pee so that everything is OK.  When asked about being seen by others, the guide explained that you just couldn’t be modest on the river.  He calmly said, “Don’t worry about being private, just let it all hang out and pee”.  His next instructions shocked me even more.  “If, for heaven’s sake, you have to poop while we are on the river, then you are required to tell your boat guide.  He would extract from somewhere in the raft a poop box which we should take and use.”  I never really found out how this would work or where we were to go to use the poop box.  However, after hearing all of these instructions, I quietly told my body that it should not poop all day.  At no costs did I want to be embarrassed by having to ask for the poop box from our guide and then have to hunt a place where I could use it.  I would just hold everything in (even the peepee) as long as I could. 

After everyone was jacketed, our gear was stored, and this last set of vital instructions was given, we divided ourselves into three groups and loaded into our rafts.  Paul and I got into the second raft with our leader Erin, and we set off down the river.  The guide was the only one that had to row.  The sun was out, and the water was muddy and red.  The San Juan was flowing at a rate of about 4,000 cubic feet/second.  The river was high but not out of its banks.  We lazily floated down the river.  It wasn’t long before we passed our first shore camp.  Since it was Memorial Day weekend, there were several groups of people who were rafting and camping on this river.  The camps usually had several tents set up close together.  I wondered if they knew about the river potty rules.  There were children in some of the camps.  I hoped that they could all swim and would be safe.  I knew that they would have a wonderful time out of doors all weekend.

Just as I had begun to get really well acquainted with my raft mates (there were 6 of us – 3 couples), we came to a dead end in the river.  The river literally ran dead on into a 1,000-foot high cliff wall.  I am surprised that the rushing water hadn’t eaten out a hole in the cliff, but so far as I could see it hadn’t.  The current nearly pulled us into the cliff.  Our skillful guide, however, rowed hard and turned our boat so that it didn’t hit the wall of the cliff too hard.  The current turned at a 90-degree angle here and went on its way.  I don’t think I have very seen a river run head on into a cliff before. 

Shortly after we missed hitting the cliff face, we pulled over to the bank and got out of the rafts.  At this our first stop, we took our life jackets off and belted them into the salt cedars (called tamarisk in Colorado) that crowds out everything along the banks of this and other rivers.  This awful tree or bush is drinking too much water and is really not good for anything.  It is hard to, if not impossible to kill this noxious bush that has invaded most of our rivers and streams of all sizes.  The terrible bush provided easy and convenient places for us to attach our life jackets to, however. 

We reformed our group on land to hear about the large panel of petroglyphs that we were going to see.  After a quarter mile hike up to the edge of a cliff, we were able to view a fifty-foot long panel of sandstone that was just covered with stone etchings and drawings from several different Indian settlement periods. Some of the people figures wear helmets that cause them to look like they are space people.  These strange drawings surely do make you wonder if maybe some inter-terrestrial space people might have really landed on earth many, many years ago. 

After seeing this panel and hiking back to the river, we donned our tight life jackets and got back into the boats.  Apparently there are lots and lots of petroglyphs along the cliffs that are near this river.  We could see many drawings from the river.  After going down the river again for about an hour, we stopped again.  This time we gathered together and made a half-mile hike to the base of the cliff and then up a trail on the side of the cliff to a cliff dwelling called, The River House.  It is a rock dwelling much like those at Mesa Verde.  It is well preserved and not formally protected.  It is sheltered completely from the wind and the rain under the cliff.  It is high enough up that even when the San Juan floods out of its banks, the waters will never reach The River House.  It was nice to see another of these magnificent “National Geographic sites”.  I was also pleased that I was able to walk and to climb up to this site in my Crocks and with my sore toe.

After making the hike back down to the river, we found that the raft guides had set out our lunch.  We had peanut butter, jelly, and bread to make P&J sandwiches.  We had a plate of pepperoni sliced very thin, cheese slices, and crackers.  We also had a big bowl of macaroni salad.  I usually do not like macaroni salad at all, but this salad was served with fresh grated parmesan cheese which made it much more palatable to me.  We could make instant lemonade if we wanted to from the jug of water that was available.  It was a good lunch, and it tasted better because it was outside.  We had no tables or chairs, but we found places on rocks, tree stumps, or branches to sit down and to enjoy our meal.

Before lunch was over, I walked quite a ways from our rafts and our group and squatted down at the waters edge to pee.  I don’t think that I was viewed, but I didn’t worry too much about that since river etiquette was the rule today. 

As everyone was finishing lunch it started to rain.  We all donned our rain gear.  I must tell you that I think that I was the fashion diva of our group.  My rain gear consisted of a very bright orange plastic hooded parka.  Now to understand the diva part of my outfit you must remember what I wore with my orange plastic parka.  I had on the bright pink Crocks (big plastic shoes with a very rounded toe section).  I wore my usual hiking bright yellow cotton gloves.  I don’t like to get my hands dirty and these gloves protect my hands also.  Now you put all these fashion items together and “viola” – you must have a diva!  Right?  At least you wouldn’t loose me in a crowd. Ha!  Note the picture of me below. 

After all the lunch stuff was put away, we donned our life jackets and got back into our boats hoping that the drizzling rain would stop.  It would rain for a little bit and then it would stop.  Before too long we entered “the canyon”.  I had never heard of this little canyon before but it was absolutely beautiful.  The walls went straight up for about 2,000 feet.  The canyon went from wide to very narrow and back again.  We passed the spot where John Ford used to film all of his water crossings for his many Western movies such as The Searchers, Fort Apache, and She Wore a Yellow Ribbon, etc.  We saw the abandoned road along the side of the canyon that had been built when a company had drilled for oil.  No oil was found so the site was abandoned.  The scar of the road will eventually disappear from this almost untouched canyon.  The Navajo reservation is on the south side of the river in this canyon and that side is absolutely desolate.  The guide told us to watch for mountain sheep on the sides of the cliffs, but we didn’t see any that day. 

Before too long the drizzle of rain became a downpour.  We sat in the raft under our rain gear and watched the water drip off of each other’s hats.  It was a little cold.  However, the surrounding beauty kept the trip from being a disaster. 

Our guides turned on their motors, and we sped a little faster down the river.  As the afternoon lengthened we began to see waterfalls.  I am sure that the waterfalls only appear when it rains.  The falls were made up of water that was dark red.  The waters falling from this cliff were full of sand from the red rocks over which they had flowed.  These waterfalls were really magnificent.  We were in the middle of the desert!  How lucky we were to see these rare outflows of water.  Unfortunately Paul and I had not brought our camera.  The pictures in this newsletter are the contributions of friends.  They were good photographers and they shared with us.

Soon we could see Mexican Hat, a very famous rock landmark, coming up.  The normal way to see this landmark is by driving to it from the opposite side.  I enjoyed seeing the desolate and undeveloped side of this famous landmark.  It has a big rock with a smaller rock balanced on top it.  It really does look like a Mexican Sombrero.  Shortly after we passed this site, we pulled into our final landing.  The Wild River vans were waiting for us.  We got out of the rafts, and I am sure that we looked like drowned rats.  We were all wet (on the outside) and cold.  We had completed a 23-mile rafting trip.  We took off our life jackets, retrieved our gear from the watertight containers, and loaded our gear again into the backs of the vans.

At this landing there was a real bathroom – an outhouse with a door.  I quickly went up to visit this welcome facility.  I had to wait in line, but the wait was worth it.  I did my “thing” in privacy.  The 20-mile ride back to Bluff took us through beautiful Southern Utah canyon country.

When we got back to our motel, and I took off my pink Crocks, I discovered that the part of my foot just above my toes had a big red knot on it.   I was quite concerned that I might have really hurt my toe.  I went to bed to get my foot up.  Paul went out and purchased a sandwich for me for my supper that I gratefully ate in bed.  He then went out a second time and enjoyed dinner with the group.  He had just brought one pair of tennis shoes with him on this trip, and they had gotten soaked in the rain.  He went out that evening wearing my plastic pink Crocks.  He got a few snickers and smiles from our friends that night, but at least his feet were dry.  Next time he will pack two pairs of shoes.  Our tour leader, Andy Guilford, gave a talk that evening after dinner, but Paul was too tired to stay to hear it.  My foot looked a little better after having been propped up all evening.  We slept soundly and enjoyed our motel bed.

The next morning we awoke to a bright sunny day.  We slept in and rested.  By 11:00 we had loaded our car and checked out of the motel.  We drove over and picked up our rider, Janice Sheftel, who had stayed at a nearby bed and breakfast.  We went to our favorite restaurant, The Twin Rocks Restaurant and enjoyed an early lunch. 

Afterwards we stopped by the photographer’s house, JD Lancaster.  On Friday night after his slide show he had demonstrated how two quartz river rocks could be rubbed together to produce light.  I wanted to buy two of these rocks to show to my grandkids.  He gave me the rocks I asked for and several other unusual rocks to add to my collection.  He and his wife were nice.  I look forward to seeing his gallery in Dove Creek, Colorado. 

We then left Bluff and began our trip home.  We stopped in Cortez at the Safeway and bought a few groceries.  We arrived home that Sunday afternoon tired but happy.  It had been a very nice trip.  Our kitties had stayed alone while we were gone, and they were glad to see us return to fill their food bowls and to clean out their potty boxes.  

On Sunday morning, I had noticed another red bump just above my toes.  I think that I had suffered from No-See-Ums bites (the local name for the tiny, tiny mosquito like flying bugs) on my foot.  The bumps were right where there were holes in my plastic shoes (Crocks).  Either I had been bitten by No-See-Ums that would cause swelling, or my foot had swelled up into the holes causing a bump.  Either way, my toe wasn’t hurt.  I would survive and live to tell my tales. 

We are very happy to be back in Durango and are enjoying the adventures here.  I hope that you are all well.  Don’t forget to do your monthly breast self-exams.  Come to see us.

Love,
Beverly