This morning's ride is nice and quite, almost all in the shade until we reach the Little Colorado. In contrast to what I've heard about the effects of the Glen Canyon Dam on the Colorado, the water seems very silty to me. I mean to ask Chuck if this is because of the recent rain, or the low water levels in Lake Powell, or if this is just comparitively clear. So far, the only really clear water we've seen is at Mile 0, where we put into the river at Lees Ferry. Almost immediately, the Paria River entered the Colorado with a muddy flow, the two currents markedly distinct. After that, the Colorado has looked thin and light brown, rather like chai tea.
The Little Colorado is warm, muddy and mucky with the viscosity of chocolate milk flowing into the chai tea of the Colorado. As Amy begins to tie up the Coconino, she hears the warning rattle of a snake and eases back. A Grand Canyon Rattlesnake is curled up in the rocks.
SAM and AJM follow Chuck upstream to see if there is a chance for body rafting, but it is too muddy. There are salt deposits along the canyon, sometimes creating stalactites 10 centimeters long.
Chuck stops to talk to some scientists who are killing off the introduced and predatory trout in this part of the river to see if they can get the native humpback chub to make a comeback.
After lunch, Allen reads us a story about Powell.
We pull in river right around Mile 64.5, Carbon Creek. Most everyone fans out on the wash to set up camps. But I don't want to sleep in the open again, so I choose a spot above the kitchen in some rocks above the rest of the site. It is actually two sites and a third one up the hill behind it. I try to convince SAM to take one of them, he wants to be off. No one else bothers to climb up to see it. It has lots of big flat rocks to rest our stuff on. I find it easier to organize our gear when it's up out of the sand. The problem with this site is that you have to climb up to get to it, which means climbing down to the river in the dark if we have to go to the bathroom in the night. As much water as we drink, this is not a minor problem.
The sun and heat at the Little Colorado has worn me down and I opt out of the hike up Carbon Creek to stay at camp and bathe and wash my hair. The water is cold and gritty with sand. I manage to duck completely underwater to wet my hair, stand on shore in the sun and dry off, lather up the shampoo, then repeat the ducking for the rinse. If I weren't so completely hot, I'd just as soon stay dirty. I sit up on a rock jutting out of our site, looking down on the camp and untangling my hair. I feel perfectly relaxed and happy.