Havasu Flush
By
Noel Laflin
February
4, 2013
Low water levels reveal the tunnel's inner workings. Jumping beats flushing at such times.
Low water levels reveal the tunnel's inner workings. Jumping beats flushing at such times.
“It feels,” the precocious twelve-year-old was telling
me, “like a giant flushing toilet taking you down and through a tunnel in the
rocks. It then throws you into a giant
pool on the other side there!” With
this, the youngest member of our rafting party pointed to an area of the creek
about fifteen feet downstream.
“Try it, Noel!
Don’t be afraid. Just keep your
arms close to your sides so you don’t scrape them on the rocks below. And remember,” she dramatically paused for
effect, “hold your breath!”
And with that final bit of advice, the youngster
squealed with delight as she slowly walked downstream until she was a few feet
from two large boulders, one barely visible through the pristine creek, resting
in the middle of the waterway. The water
had risen up to her chin. Then she
stopped and brought her arms to her sides, fingers pressed tightly together,
pointing straight down. The girl inched
forward in this ramrod torpedo-like posture until, whoosh! – she disappeared,
blonde ponytail and all. It was as if she
had stepped into a giant hidden pneumatic tube.
Within seconds, Christa’s blonde head and upper torso
came bursting out of the lower pool just beyond the two large boulders, as
predicted, some ten or fifteen feet away.
Giggling once more, she swam to the right, climbed the bank and ran back
upstream. She wadded out to where I
still stood - awestruck. She gave me a
gentle nudge.
“Your turn!”
I felt the soft wet sand squish between my toes as I
inched my way forward ever so slowly.
“Oh, man,” I said aloud. “I’m not sure about this…”
Christa just laughed as she plunged ahead of me, swam
out to the boulders, brought her hands to her sides, took a deep breath and
disappeared for a second time, only to resurface in the cool clear pool beyond
a few moments later. Her infectious
giggles shamed me into moving forward once again.
We were in one of the finest natural playgrounds on
Earth - Havasu Creek, at river mile 156 to be exact, in the bottom of the Grand
Canyon. The pull-in point for Havasu
can be a harried affair, as there is limited room for rafts before the
confluence of the creek and Colorado River.
Thus, if a boatman can’t find room to dock before the natural outlet, he
is forced to pass it and dock off the slab of massive flat rocks smack dab in
the middle of the fast moving flow. This
is where we ended up. With extraordinary
skill, however, our boatmen maneuvered the boats up to the rocky outcrop and
had them securely tied off within seconds, before the current could carry us
away. We scrambled off and helped with
the unloading of the lunch items.
As the temperature was sitting well above the hundred
degree mark we were soon on our way in search of a cool swimming hole. Back into the shade of the canyon we hiked,
marveling at the blueness of the creek.
Less than a mile in, we came to the first of several great swimming
areas. The creek was running swift,
strong and clear all through here. It was
also running at an extremely high rate, due to the recent heavy rains. But, one could scamper up western walls and
jump out into deep pools. Or, you could
just float with the current and end up in a cool eddy and enjoy the view of the
narrow canyon.
My favorite spot among all of these choices, however,
was where I stood now – just waiting for the nerve to take one more small step.
I must admit that I was a might apprehensive about
trying this trick. Suppose the tunnel
below was too narrow for me? Suppose I
got stuck? Suppose, suppose,
suppose!
Don’t go there,
I thought.
Instead, I pressed my arms tightly to my sides as
instructed and did a little duck waddle to the point of no return. I could feel the hidden vacuum below tugging
at me more fiercely as I approached the large rocks – one well above the
surface and the other, massive as it was, submerged below the water line of
this high running creek. I felt a
tremendous pull - as if my feet were being grabbed by some unseen water monster
lurking beneath. There was no time to even draw a small breath as the opening
below sucked me down.
Jesus! This was
like being flushed.
With eyes still wide open I saw a flash of dark rock to
either side of me and felt my elbows scrape, ever so slightly, against smooth
rock walls. Suddenly, I was cast into a
large underwater pool of blue lit faintly from the sky above. It was an Aquarian fairyland. In short order I was able to right myself and
felt the strong tug of the current raise me to the surface.
Wow! I’ve got to
do that again! And again.
Soon, others from our party joined us as the young
tutor and I both explained the mysteries of the vanishing trick.
Now, Marshall, a large guy from Michigan, followed
Christa and me, riding the underwater tube and bobbing to the surface as
expected. I sat at the end of the pool just
to keep an eye on folks, letting others take a turn or two. But Marshall stayed in the pool treading
water, looking sheepishly, if not a bit frantically down and all about him as
if searching for something lost.
That something – in the form of his swim trunks came
floating my way. I snagged them and hid
them behind me.
“Hey Marshall,” I cried out. “How’d you like that ride? You want to try it again?”
“Ah, well, yeah – it was great,” he
replied, peering nervously all around the pool.
“But, I think I’ll just stay here a while and catch my breath,” he
concluded.
“Marshall,” I yelled - “you better
get out of the pool and make way for more folks about to ride the chute. You don’t want ‘em torpedoing into ya.”
“Oh, for Christ’s sake!” Marshall finally hollered back. “I can’t get out of here. My damn suit was sucked right off me
somewhere in that rocky tube.” He was
looking a bit nervous now. “Anybody seen
it?” There was dead silence all around.
“Did you bring a towel, Marshall?” I
finally deadpanned.
“Nope,” he said sadly. “I left it on the raft.”
“Guess it’ll be a breezy walk back
to the boat then,” I replied. “Those
trunks have got to be all the way to the river by now. They’ll probably be in Lake Mead by the end
of the week. Bummer, dude!”
By now the poor man was beside himself
so I decided to let him in on the find.
I tossed the runaway garment back his way and apologized – kind of. And with that, the happy guy slipped them
back on, climbed out of the pool and ran back to ride the flushing toilet once
more. This time he made sure his arms
were not only tightly pressed against his sides – they clamped handfuls of
cloth all the way to the end as well.
At the same site 24 years later - with another twelve-year-old daredevil.
Imagine the water level being level with our shoes.
That's when the water slide becomes a water tunnel.
Imagine the water level being level with our shoes.
That's when the water slide becomes a water tunnel.
Funny how life is Noel. I am sure our paths crossed during the 70's in the Orange County Scouting community. I too have been to Havasu creek several times during the last 40 years. However, I was at the other end - up around Havasupai Canyon. I was there in the 70's and twice in the 80's. Unfortunately I have not been back since. Very possibly I was at one end, while you were at the other!
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