As the sun gets lower and our stomachs get louder, one thought starts to cross everyone’s minds. “What am I going to eat?” Followed by, “How much is that going to cost? And, how many dirty dishes will that create?” This deep in the Salt River Canyon, there is only one solution. Deesco night.

A “deesco,” short for discada, is also known as a cowboy wok. The discada originates from farmers in northern Mexico who, sometime in the early 20th century, repurposed an old plow disk into a griddle. Various meats and vegetables are thrown together over a flame. The resulting meal is hardy, well-deserved, and random. Whatever ingredients the farmers had was what the group would eat together.

Today, you can find discada recipes inspired by the typical ingredients brought by those original farmers. Different meats like venison, beef, pork, bacon, and chorizo, cooked together with onion, jalapenos, and tomatoes. You can also find discada dishes with handles and even welded stands–easier to manage than an old plow disk.

At some point, the discada was brought into the raft guide community, possibly by way of the Upper Salt River Canyon in 2020. The Salt sits in central Arizona. The first 50 miles of boatable whitewater are free-flowing, and it’s in the middle of nowhere. Guiding down there means living off-grid (or as off-grid as you can get nowadays). Obtaining food and water means making the hour drive—one-way—into Globe or Show Low Arizona. On top of that, everything wants to bite or sting you. Life in the Salt can be harsh.

Getting adequate nourishment and staying healthy is more important, yet more difficult in this desert environment. Group meals like deescos make it easy. It’s cheap; all you need is a fork and an ingredient. It’s convenient; with only a few dishes and minimal planning, you can pull together a meal that’ll feed a whole group. And it’s fun.

A raft guide’s discada does have rules:

• Rule one: You must feed someone else before you feed yourself
• Rule two: No plates allowed. Everyone eats off the discada together
• Rule three: Beer is a mandatory ingredient (this shouldn’t be a problem)
• Rule four: No cans of soup allowed

The Deesco is a gamble; you never know what you’re going to get. Typical ingredients include canned beans, ramen, mac and cheese, rice, carrots, potatoes, or chorizo. These non-perishable raft guide staples last a while and store easily in the back of a truck, so there’s no shortage of these at the deesco table.

Not all ingredients are created equal, however. Broccoli, Brussels sprouts, pineapple, shrimp, or fresh meat will really class up the meal. Some unusual but not unheard-of ingredients may include canned squid, watermelon, Takis, or the infamous mystery can (a can that has been rolling around in the back of someone’s rig long enough that the label has worn off).

It sounds disgusting, but somehow, it all works out. The random ingredients that you didn’t think would work together do. Contrasting flavors bubble and meld under the heat and are reabsorbed by the starches. However, ingredients are occasionally left out. Whether accidental or deliberate, those omissions are usually for the best.

A raft guide’s discada brings everyone together. It’s teamwork; everyone should help with the prep, cooking, and cleaning. It’s trust—everyone needs to bring enough to ensure there is enough food for everyone. And it’s bonding; people swap stories and get to know each other a bit more around the Deesco stand. This time spent together cooking and eating the same food builds camaraderie and community that makes life in the Salt that much more special.

One night on the Salt, a neighboring company invited us over for a BBQ on April 1st. We had been trying to get them to come to the deesco for weeks with no luck. But finally, an olive branch. For a week, we waited, wondering what they would cook for us. A group of walked over around 7 pm, our optimistic chatter met by silence. There was no one in sight.

A little hungry but mostly impressed by our gullibility, we walked back to our side of camp. There had been talk that the invite was an April Fools’ prank, but we didn’t think they were cool enough to go through with it. We underestimated them. Disheartened and hungry, someone suggested a deesco night. This time, though, we decided to bring the disco to them.

We parted ways to rummage for supplies, reconvening for the 50-yard haul back to our neighbors a few minutes later. There wasn’t a soul at their camp. So, we started cooking. Their kitchen space was a lot nicer than ours anyway.

We started with the potatoes, cooking them in the chef’s beer of choice. Next, we threw in the onion and carrots. As the carrots soften, the aromatic onions start to pull the flavors together. Huddled around the deesco stand for warmth, we heard their company vehicle bumping down the road. Our guests had come home. Confused by our presence but approving of our scheme, they started a fire, and we continued cooking.

Finally, the deesco was ready. With three blows of a conch, we called all hungry raft guides to the deesco. It was a glorious defeat. They refused our schloppy concoction. I will admit that it wasn’t our prettiest deesco. No one had planned on one and everyone was getting to the point of needing a grocery store run, so the ingredients were lacking.

But, in typical deesco fashion, the regulars dove in.

It was still scorching hot as we speared our first bites to feed someone else. Despite the heat coming off the meal, we knew that all the best bites would be gone fast. Soon camp dogs started circling, collecting the bits we dropped. As our stomachs started to fill and the food started to cool, people left for the warmth of the fire. Another semi-successful deesco was in the books, and our ploy to force the other companies to hang out with us had worked. Sort of. Although they didn’t touch the generous meal we had prepared, it inspired curiosity, mingling, and laughter, which are the best side-effects of a deesco anyway.

Side note: A week later, they did end up inviting us to a BBQ. Brats, burgers, and beer filled the picnic tables. Seconds, thirds, and fourths were devoured. Goodwill all around. Ohh… and the next time we had a deesco, they came over to sample the goods, sharing forks and stories with the rest of us.

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Guest Contributor Jade Barron was raised on the Arkansas River in the mountains of Colorado. She now follows rivers around the country, guiding wherever the season takes her next. Each place teaches her new lessons about people, the environment, and how to drive a boat. Sometimes joyous and silly, but occasionally sad and existential, each lesson is a reminder of the glorious profound of life as a river guide.

Photos courtesy of Jade Barron, Grant Shelton and Brielle Smith.