Kayaking Horseshoe Bend
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Kayaking Horseshoe Bend was planted in Danny’s head days earlier as he stood at the rim looking down at tiny kayaks tracing the river below. He launched into research, got the scoop from a local, and booked a shuttle that would launch from Lees Ferry, haul us and our kayaks to Petroglyph Beach, and set us up for a paddle downriver through the bend.
Lees Ferry
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Of course, executing the plan required one more round of time-zone negotiations. The shuttle company operated on Arizona time. The launch point sat on Navajo Nation land, which observes Daylight Saving Time. Our 10:00 AM meet-up was technically 11:00 AM on Navajo clocks. Meanwhile, our phones were picking up signal from a tower apparently in Arizona, so they displayed Arizona time — which, matched the shuttle’s schedule. Score!
After a nice boat ride upstream, the shuttle dropped us off at Petroglyph Beach. We walked up to the petroglyphs etched into the rock face above the river. Then it was time to launch. The paddle stretched roughly ten miles downstream beneath towering canyon walls. Just days earlier, we had stood at the rim looking down at tiny specks in the water. Now, the people on top looking down were the specs. The perspective shift was dramatic.
The weather kept things interesting. Heavy overcast rolled through at times. Clouds threatened rain. A headwind kicked up and made us earn some of those miles. Nothing insurmountable, but it wasn’t a lazy float either. As we neared the end of the paddle, four wild horses stood along the riverbank, completely unfazed by passing kayakers. Our shuttle guide had mentioned they’re believed to be descendants of Navajo horses that escaped a corral a couple hundred years ago. They looked perfectly at home in the canyon.
By the time we pulled back into Lees Ferry, my arms were completely cooked. Ten miles in desert sun with a headwind is not subtle. For Danny, though, this one checked a box he’d been eyeing since that first look down from the rim.
That night, as we were trying to sleep, the generators fired up. It was after 10 p.m. by our phone clocks, but technically 9 p.m. on Navajo time. The time-zone gymnastics were not helping anyone’s mood. Danny walked over to the neighbor to have a polite word. "It’s only 9" they said. He gave them the look. The kind of look that says, we just paddled ten miles through canyon country. They finally obliged.
After a nice boat ride upstream, the shuttle dropped us off at Petroglyph Beach. We walked up to the petroglyphs etched into the rock face above the river. Then it was time to launch. The paddle stretched roughly ten miles downstream beneath towering canyon walls. Just days earlier, we had stood at the rim looking down at tiny specks in the water. Now, the people on top looking down were the specs. The perspective shift was dramatic.
The weather kept things interesting. Heavy overcast rolled through at times. Clouds threatened rain. A headwind kicked up and made us earn some of those miles. Nothing insurmountable, but it wasn’t a lazy float either. As we neared the end of the paddle, four wild horses stood along the riverbank, completely unfazed by passing kayakers. Our shuttle guide had mentioned they’re believed to be descendants of Navajo horses that escaped a corral a couple hundred years ago. They looked perfectly at home in the canyon.
By the time we pulled back into Lees Ferry, my arms were completely cooked. Ten miles in desert sun with a headwind is not subtle. For Danny, though, this one checked a box he’d been eyeing since that first look down from the rim.
That night, as we were trying to sleep, the generators fired up. It was after 10 p.m. by our phone clocks, but technically 9 p.m. on Navajo time. The time-zone gymnastics were not helping anyone’s mood. Danny walked over to the neighbor to have a polite word. "It’s only 9" they said. He gave them the look. The kind of look that says, we just paddled ten miles through canyon country. They finally obliged.