I have a confession to make: I’m a dirtbag kayaker. By dirtbag, I mean cheap, and by cheap I mean thrifty, which is an alright thing to be, I guess. I stretch my gear as far as I can, patching and mending it and using it until it’s thoroughly used up. This thriftiness becomes a problem in certain situations, however, such as when I made a two-week kayak trip to the North Shore of Minnesota last May and packed only an old, leaky drytop and a pair of nylon running tights for insulation on the river. I survived the snowy, icy conditions of that journey thanks to the generous help of the Minnesotan and Canadian boaters who supplied me with extra layers and cold weather gear.

This past fall when my friend Adam Goshorn offered me a spot on his December Grand Canyon permit I knew it was a trip I could not afford to miss or to scrimp on. Shivering through an afternoon river run is one thing when you’re a couple hours from civilization and something entirely different when you’re two hundred miles and a helicopter ride away from help. Cutting corners on a winter Canyon trip would be to mess with the safety of my entire group. After years of getting by on an over-active metabolism and high tolerance for cold it was time for me to slip into the warmest piece of paddling gear around: the drysuit.

On the morning of December 1st I received a package from IR containing the Double D drysuit, a fleece top and bottom, and the Lucky Charm spray skirt–that evening Adam (our trip organizer), Kim (the lone woman in our group) and I started the 24 hour drive west from Mentone, Alabama to Flagstaff, Arizona. We met up with the rest of our group in Flag, and we all promptly began panicking about the frigid temperatures that greeted us out west. Flagstaff is at 7,000 feet elevation, which is higher than Mt. Mitchell, the tallest peak on the East Coast. It was crazy cold, and the morning of our departure to the Canyon our group of seven made a stop at the local outfitter where we all shopped like hungry people at the grocery store. Between us we bought about sixty handwarmers (which later proved entirely ineffective down in the Canyon).

When we arrived at Lee’s Ferry, reports were listing temps at the South Rim as low as negative 5 degrees, and the ranger who gave us our Canyon tutorial chuckled as she mentioned that a major winter storm was heading our way. Of course, in our anxiety we had forgotten that the Canyon bottom is fully 5,000 feet lower in elevation than the rim and that there is an entirely different climate along the banks of the Colorado River then at the tourist shops high above. The first day-and-a-half of our trip we enjoyed balmy temps and sunny skies. Things were looking up.

By day three of our journey down the Colorado our group was settling into a rhythm of work and progress that was unlike any paddling I’d done before. We would wake at dawn (7′ish), make breakfast, load the rafts and be on the river around 10:30. We covered 15 to 20 river miles each day, and in the afternoon of our third day we arrived at Nankoweep, the site of ancient Indian granaries dug into the river right Canyon wall.  The steep hike up to the granaries presents an amazing (and oft-photographed) downriver view:

It was at Nankoweep that the winter storm finally caught up with us, setting off a string of four or five days that were thoroughly cold and drizzly wet. This was the part of our journey where I learned to be deeply thankful for my drysuit and layers. The combination of the suit and the Lucky Charm skirt kept me completely dry in my boat, and on days when I was steadily active in my kayak I was warm enough that I could layer light poly-pro beneath the drysuit and save the warm fleece for wearing around camp in the evening. As most boaters have experienced, being on the water in mid-winter can be a daunting challenge, but when you’re properly equipped to be warm and comfortable it is one of the coolest ways to experience the river–no pun intended.

Throughout that stretch of inclement days on the river the snow accumulated on the rim and moved progressively lower down the canyon walls until it was a just a hundred feet above us. Many days the Canyon would be closed in by a roof of low-hanging clouds, making that expansive landscape feel just a little bit smaller. At night, the crisp winter air revealed a host of stars overhead more brilliant than I’d ever seen before. I began pulling out my astronomy book each night and boring the group to sleep with my search for new constellations and stories in the night sky.

Of the seven people in our group, six of us were seeing the Canyon for the first time from the bottom. No amount of description can prepare one for the majesty of the Grand Canyon. The play of light around the canyon walls, the varicolored rock formations, the deep green (and sometimes brown) waters of the Colorado River–it all has to be seen to be appreciated.

It’s particularly special to be there in the winter when no commercial trips are running. Of the fourteen days we were on the river, we passed three other raft groups and were passed by one pair of kayakers. Our group never had to negotiate for camp sites in the evening, and we saw only one helicopter fly high overhead. Just before we reached our final major whitewater hurdle at Lava Falls the sun came out and the temperatures warmed up for good. As is fitting of the extreme contrasts in that environment, we all went from stifling ourselves in layers of polyester to wearing cotton t-shirts and air drying in the afternoon sun after a bath in the river. It was still plenty cold in the shade; so I continued wearing my drysuit on the river through the end of the trip; but that breath of sunshine and warmth did wonders for our group morale and energy.

Considering that I have never been down the Canyon in summer I have no business making comparisons, but I can’t resist giving my full-hearted endorsement to the winter experience. The extra solitude of a winter trip amplifies the wildness of the landscape, and if you’re well-equipped to enjoy it, the winter elements add a stark beauty to the Canyon. I’m grateful to Immersion Research for building gear that can stand up to the harsh conditions of the Grand Canyon in winter, and I’m grateful to my fellow paddlers who made this experience truly memorable and enjoyable.

Chris Gallaway, Diamond Brand Outdoors Ambassador

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