Rio Chama - Day 1

The Rio Chama flows for about 130 miles from its headwaters in southern Colorado to its confluence with the Rio Grande in Espanola, New Mexico. A 31-mile stretch of the Rio Chama was designated as a federal Wild & Scenic River in 1988. It was this part of the river that we would be paddling.

The river flow stayed above 1,100 cfs through Thursday night as we camped on the riverbank at El Vado Ranch. Late Friday morning, the flow dropped into the low-to-mid 900's, and was at 934 cfs when we launched. These river levels (800 to 1,300 cfs) are considered to be "medium" by the BLM and Forest Service.

Reminder: Left click on any photo to enlarge.

Well, it looks like at least Mike was feeling confident and ready for the trip to start on Friday morning. Personally, my emotions were somewhat mixed. The rain overnight had left everything damp, and the overcast sky meant our tents, groundsheets, and some other items would have to be packed without first being dried.

Anyway, we started with a nice hot breakfast. Next, we were faced with some decisions. Should we rethink how much gear to take with us, in an effort to lighten the load the canoe would be carrying? And should we change our seating positions, as Gary was recommending, and put Mike, the less experienced paddler, in the stern of the canoe? Most importantly, did we believe that we could safely make it through the Class II and Class III rapids and other obstacles that the river would be throwing at us? These questions occupied my thoughts as we finished breakfast and started to repack for the trip.

Then, some bad news. George, the leader and main organizer of our Rio Chama trip, announced that he had decided not to venture onto the river. He had spent an uncomfortable night in a leaky tent, wasn't feeling all that great, and was not confident about his ability to handle the river at this level in his solo canoe. Despite the efforts of his daughter Wendy and the rest of us, George could not be convinced to change his decision.

That left six of us on the expedition: Gary and Julie in Gary's Old Town Appalachian canoe, Mike and me in my Dagger Dimension ("the best whitewater tandem canoe ever made" according to the Forest Service ranger at the launch site), and Wendy and Ralf in a Shredder, an inflatable cataraft without a metal frame. Oops, I almost forgot our seventh crew member - Sam, Wendy's three-legged and partially deaf dog.

"I think we need a bigger boat."

The loading process was started before the vehicle drivers departed on the shuttle run to Big Eddy Take Out. Here Mike ponders the proper placement of our gear (somewhat pared down from our trial run in Santa Fe), while Gary and Julie secure the load in their canoe.

Although George would not be paddling with us, he kindly offered to assist us with the shuttle. Wendy, Julie, and I followed him in our vehicles from El Vado Ranch, where we would be launching the boats, to Big Eddy Take Out, where our river trip was scheduled to end on Sunday afternoon. This drive was accomplished in a little over an hour. We left our three vehicles in the parking lot at the take out. Then, after Julie, Wendy and George posed for this photo, George drove the three of us back to the campground. Altogether, the shuttle run took a little over two hours. We then finished the process of securing our camping and river gear in our boats.

George provided these next four photos. In the one above, is Ranger Dell amused by my river outfit, or just smiling politely for the photographer? Below, Sam looks quite comfortable in his pfd (pet flotation device?).

It was after 2:00 by the time we launched our boats and were finally on the water. Here Wendy and Ralf back away from the launching ramp, then glide past a waiting Gary and Julie.

Mike and I pulled over a short distance downstream. This photo shows us facing back upstream as we waited a few minutes for Wendy, Ralf, and Sam to appear in their Shredder from around the bend.

We were on the Rio Chama at last!

Gary takes a quick reading on his GPS while studying the map, just after we launched.



In less than 25 minutes, the swift current and our adrenalin had carried us the 3.5 miles to the remains of old Ward Ranch. I climbed out of the canoe to take a few photos.

























The obligatory shot out of an old window.













The kitchen had seen better times.

The other two boats floating downstream as I continue to explore the ruins.

Julie strikes an unusual pose.

Julie and Gary disappearing around a bend.

Wendy, Ralf, and Sam pass by an interesting rock formation.

We reached our campsite, about 8 miles downstream from the launch and the first one located on river right, in a total of about two hours. Mike set up his tent, while I spread out my camping gear, still damp from the night before, in the sun to dry. The imposing cliffs directly across the river from us certainly helped the scenery. And the bluff behind us was even higher - we were definitely in the canyon.

The group enjoyed my not-so-frozen margaritas after everyone had set up camp. Mike and I then feasted on chicken stir fry, expertly prepared by him on his new stove. Poor Julie had to settle for a freeze-dried meal, displayed by her as we relaxed after dinner.

Ralf and Wendy seemed to have brought a full kitchen with them. The wooden platform which provided Sam with his perch on the front of their boat doubled as an extension of their table, and was suspended on one end from the overhanging tree. The box wine on the table was actually left over from my trip on the Brazos River three months earlier, where it had never been opened. It traveled quite well. Yes, we did bring some water on the trip with us as well.

After dinner, I decided to take a short hike up the bluff behind our campsite. Well, I intended for it to be quick, just long enough to snap a few photos. So I changed into my hiking boots, grabbed my camera, took the photo above looking north towards the river from my tent, and headed down the river as I also worked my way up the hill.

It was about 7:15 and, since I would only be out for twenty or thirty minutes, I didn't bother to take a jacket, water, or flashlight. Of course, the view constantly changed as I climbed higher, and the angled sunlight and scenery proved to be somewhat intoxicating. If I could gain just a little more elevation, perhaps I could get a good view of the river below.

And, as seen above on the left, perhaps I could get closer to the base of the cliffs topping the mesa on our side of the river.

Indeed, the view did begin to open up as I worked my way higher. This side canyon on the north side of the river was a few hundred yards downstream from our camp.

The way up. Suddenly I had arrived at the base of the rock wall. This would certainly be a good place to stop.

I was now higher than the bluff which faced our camp from the north side of the river, and could see the high mesas of the Jicarilla Apache Indian Reservation rising beyond. This distant view contrasted nicely with the lichen-covered cliff face which I had now reached.

Our campsite is located just slightly to the left (upstream) of the stretch of river shown above, as indicated by the view of the bluff across the river from our camp. Since I was now so close to the top, I decided to see if there was a way to reach the summit of the mesa on our side of the river. My climb did cost me a lens cap. As I scrambled up a small, steep wash, the cap somehow came loose and tumbled down the slope. But when I did reach the top, the view was worth it.

I couldn't be sure, but I thought that a thin layer of blue in the distance might be El Vado Lake. The dam for the lake is a mile or two upriver from our launch point at El Vado Ranch and controls the flow of the Rio Chama through the canyon. Once I reached the top, I noticed that there was slightly higher ground to the southeast, so I walked up the knoll. Looking back to the west and the setting sun gave me the photo below.

Altogether, I had gained about 600 feet of elevation from our campsite elevation of 6,600 feet. Below me, the Chama turned back to the south, and in the distance I could see about a mile downriver from our camp.

The setting sun was starting to paint the cliff faces and rocks a rosy orange. I was reluctant to leave, but knew that I had to start my descent before complete darkness set in.

The steepest part of my climb back down the bluff started across the river from the side canyon referred to earlier and pictured below. It was now about 8:20 and the light was fading quickly.

My last shot of the night, with the distant hills outlined by the setting sun, found me still higher than I wanted to be. I quickened my pace as best I could, given the often questionable footing. For once, I was glad to hear Mike's voice. The sound of him shouting my name helped me orient myself as full darkness set in. Finally, I spotted a light - Gary was using his flashlight inside his tent - and completed my journey back to camp. My quick stroll had turned into a fairly strenuous hike lasting an hour and a half. Kids, don't try this at home!

Sleep came quickly that night.

Note: For 32 additional photos from this Day 1 on the Rio Chama, click on this link to be transported to my Flickr page. Then click on either "Slideshow" for full-screen views or "Detail" for large thumbnails of the photos.