I’ve been told there’s no such thing as bad weather. Only bad clothes. Which brings me to my topic of the day: Kayaking in the Colorado river in winter. That was my brief. My response: waterproof trousers; windproof jacket on top of substantial North Face fleece; woolly hat; wetsuit diving gloves; wetsuit boots. Darren’s response: shorts and t-shirt. Maybe I over exaggerate, but not far off. I wouldn’t say he was blasé, more just underestimated the conditions.
As it was out of season and also not a weekend, we were lucky enough to have the launch site, right next to the Hoover Dam to ourselves. Spirits were high, bolstered by our early morning coffee, with a sense of anticipation and adventure.
We soon realized that being dropped off before 7am, when the sun has not yet peeked over the canyon walls is bordering on abuse. The damp cold settles into your bones and your extremities as your fingers gradually go numb. The icy water streaks down the paddle with every stroke, drip drip dripping on your legs like Chinese water torture. At least the water was calm, and we were paddling in the same direction as the current, so more a case of gritting your teeth (in a vague attempt to stop them chattering) and making the most of an ‘easy’ paddle to the first rest stop, thankfully in the sun!
From here, the Arizona hot springs were just a short walk upstream (as in walking up/in a stream). The only way to get to the hot springs is either this short hike from the river or a 6 mile round trip hike from the nearest road. Darren did his best to assure me we’d taken the easier option!
I have to say I was a little daunted when faced with a ladder. Not only did it have a waterfall running right through it, it was also rather steep and very slippery. But the hot springs were at the top of the ladder like a carrot on a stick. So up it I went. And oh, was it so worth it!
There’s something really quite liberating about getting your kit off in the great outdoors. Not to mention the most basic of pleasures of soaking in hot water, your body coming back to life as the heat of the water eases your muscles. We were careful not to snort any of the water up our noses (something to do with a flesh eating bacteria).
Back at the beach feeling refreshed and ready for our next paddle, we gazed on the mighty Colorado river in horror. Having dilly dallied a little too long at the hot springs, the wind was now whipping the river up into a frenzy. Nothing for it but to get stuck in. Our clothes had dried in the sun but didn’t stay that way for long. Darren rather ingeniously re-purposed a space blanket (one of those thin slivers of plastic silver sheeting that they give you at the end of a marathon) to cover his bare legs.
The rest of the day was spent alternating between paddling hard, battling with the wind and waves (yes, waves on a river!) and rest/snack stops sheltered by the high canyon walls to recover, stretch out and admire the scenery. One quite cool aspect of kayaking the Colorado is that the river runs along the state border, so depending on which side of the river you pull into, you’re either in Nevada or Arizona.
The final push to our pick-up point was particularly brutal, the forces of nature aligning to test our draining strength. I was exhausted but happy to have finally made it in one piece. That was a tough old 12 mile kayaking trip. But what better recovery… only an hour’s drive from there to a night out in Vegas! 🙂
