A story of discovery and tradition as three generations of river runners enjoy a family float through Utah’s Canyonlands National Park.

 

The energy and laughter of four toddlers had finally reached a crescendo after five days on the river. Summiting sand dunes, flopping around in a mud pit and shouting through a cold river bath had exhausted the young girls entirely. Now, with the help of dry clothes and the gentle rocking of rafts and duckies, the girls melted into their Crazy Creek recliners under a sarong canopy.

It was naptime, and all four kids were participating.

The river had been a place to run, jump, paddle and play at a ‘round-the-clock pace.  Now the silence of the Green River echoed off the deeply varnished sandstone, revealing why this part of Utah’s Canyonlands National Park is known as Stillwater Canyon.

This was my first time floating a river with anyone still in potty training. For my boyfriend, fellow NRS ambassador Adam Elliott, it was just a typical family vacation: babies, toddlers, sisters, brothers and a “Pop-Pop.” For me, it was an initiation into a family tradition of multiday rafting that was now being passed down – along with its inherent challenges and rewards – to a fourth generation of river rats. The welcome tranquility of naptime provided a moment to reflect on this wonderful, if exhausting, adventure.

***

The trip began in Moab on a warm October day. Adam and I arrived from Portland, Oregon. Adam’s two sisters and their families traveled from their homes in Arizona. Alex and her husband Fred were accompanied by daughters Lyra and Tiana, while Anthea and Gus were joined by young Annika and India. Adam’s father Rob, affectionately known as Pop-Pop, had instigated the six-day river trip. He joined the group from Santa Fe.

At Mineral Bottom, the put-in for the float, our group began the well-practiced routine of putting a trip together. Some hopped to the tasks of inflating rafts, duckies and SUP boards, and to rigging all the gear. The rest of us assumed the role of entertaining the toddlers.

I joined Alex and Anthea as they wandered up a dry wash with the four girls. Mixing play and learning, the moms sprinkled games of monster-chase and ant-fort-building with valuable lessons about the natural world. Anthea, a Phoenix veterinarian, shared the names of plants and described their identifying characteristics. Alex, co-owner of Arizona Raft Adventures in Flagstaff, reminded the girls that we don’t put plants that we don’t know in our mouths.

I would never have thought to point out such simple and seemingly obvious knowledge. In ten years of paddling and guiding, I’d never had to explain the river environment and outdoor etiquette in such elementary terms.

When the squirt guns emerged and play turned toward the water, I saw my opportunity to teach a lesson on the importance of wearing life jackets. But the girls strapped on their PFDs and ran toward the river before I had a chance to tell them! Apparently they’d already learned this lesson. However, they would continually learn the consequence of getting muddy – a bath in the chilly river water – throughout the trip.

The whole operation impressed me. These moms and dads innately understood how to mix the high maintenance needs of kids with the unique challenges of a multiday river adventure. Life on the river reduced everything to a two-year-old scale: temperature control, food needs, nap time, equipment function, hunger pains and emergency gear. They knew how to care for the kids and keep the trip rolling all at once. It was a skill acquired not just over years, but decades. While my river experience began when I first signed up for guide training on Pennsylvania’s Lehigh River in 2001, the Elliott family’s river roots can be traced all the way back to 1948.

***

As three generations of his family drifted down the Green, Rob told me the story of his first river trip.

It began with Adam’s grandfather, Lou Elliott. Lou had explored California on foot for decades with the Sierra Club. Then he began to see rivers in the same way he saw trails, as paths through the seductive wilderness of the Sierra Nevada.

“You never remember the hard times during these trips.”

So Lou ordered a collapsible Keppler kayak from Germany (rafting equipment had not yet made its way into stores) and set his sights on the 32-mile stretch of the Sacramento River from Redding to Red Bluff. Best of all, he brought his entire family with him. Rob experienced the river for the first time at age four. He sat at his father’s feet in the Keppler while Mom and Sis rode up front.

Soon military surplus rafts arrived on the scene and Lou began outfitting multiday river trips in five western states. Lou named his pioneering company the American River Tour Association, or ARTA.

Like father, like son. Rob quickly discovered his own passion for the river, leading trips for his dad as soon as he was able – first taking groups of friends down the river, and later working as a professional guide. In an interview for the Colorado River Guide Oral History Project, Rob recalled that he and his friends were still kids, yet shouldering the responsibility of running dangerous and complex river trips. He quickly learned to cope with uncontrollable natural forces, how to confidently make decisions, and how to swiftly react in the face of peril. The experience led him to eventually manage his own company, buying the permits from Lou to create Arizona Raft Adventures, or AzRA.

By placing four year-old Rob in that kayak on the Sacramento River, Lou passed down the passion and drive to get out and experience the rivers of the west.  He demystified the difficulties of trip logistics, reading water, boat handling and raft rigging for the next three generations of Elliotts by turning river running into a commonplace family activity. Like Lou, Rob, Anthea, Alex and Adam, the fourth generation of Elliotts have boating in their blood.

***

Our needs on the river are simple: food, sleep, hygiene. But they’re not always easy to maintain – for kids or adults.

One day mid-trip, lunch never happened. Suitable picnic spots were always “just around the next bend.” Soon dinner time loomed. Good camping beaches seemed to have disappeared, replaced by deep, sticky, kid-loving mud. The physical demands of the river had caught up with me; I needed to relax, and soon. Judging by the increasingly cranky kids and parents, others in the group felt the same way.

My mind was in camp before we’d even beached the boats, imagining how tasty a warm chai and cinnamon whiskey could be. I was amazed at how the rest of the group powered through, even though they were probably feeling like me. Alex and Anthea headed up bath time. Fred and Gus got snacks and drinks rolling and set up a plush changing blanket for the kids, complete with towels, dry clothes and sitting pads. The groover appeared, tents flew up and dinner prep began. Meanwhile, hunger and exhaustion had rendered me useless. I spent nearly the entire time napping in our tent.

With the camp kitchen only five feet away, the thin tent fly created just enough of a cocoon that I could catch a few minutes of rest. Then Tiana crept up to the door. She cautiously crawled into the tent, curled up next to me, and told me she wanted to rub my back. I think she knew how I felt; at age two, she had been on more multiday river trips than me.

During a particularly difficult bedtime (more tired does not mean quicker to bed, I’ve learned), Alex admitted that taking care of kids on the river isn’t always easy. But Alex, Fred, Anthea and Gus wanted to share the experience with their daughters. “It’s harder sometimes, but it’s worth it just in knowing we won’t stop going down the river, even with young kids,” said Alex, rejoining the conversation as Fred relieved her to read another bedtime story. “We want to make river running available for them if they want it one day.”

“You never remember the hard times during these trips,” added Rob. Alex and Adam agreed. They reminisced about swimming in the San Juan and playing in the mud for hours. “It’s like coming home every time I’m back on one of these rivers,” Adam reflected.

Taking kids on the river gives them the knowledge and skills they’ll need to go out and run trips on their own someday. The young descendants of Lou Elliott had begun an education that many people spend decades pursuing.

Even after 10 years of boating, I learned new things from these young Elliott girls. I expect they’ll continue to learn – as I will – and river trips will become second nature. Maybe one day they’ll look upon their family tree, undoubtedly growing in a riverbed, with as much amazement as me. Or maybe they’ll just continue the tradition, passing down the gift of river running to a new generation through another family vacation. Maybe someday they’ll be the ones rejoicing in the quiet of naptime in Stillwater Canyon.