Canyonlands
The course between the town of Green River and the confluence of the Colorado River, 120 miles away, takes the river through a never-ending series of loops and curls, with much of the route through towering canyons. It is, quite simply, one of the most spectacular places in America. One favorite spot is Bowknot Bend, a huge 180-degree curve in the river that takes seven miles to go around a sandstone cliff that measures only several hundred yards across.
And just to balance out the beauty, they have tossed in a few beasts: mosquitoes, spiders, rattlesnakes, scorpions, smoke, dirt, mud, quicksand. Scorpions and snakes are seldom seen; the rest are almost never absent. Life on a river trip is not a clean endeavor.
Bloated and muddy
Plus, and not to be overlooked, the Green River itself, at the time of this group's little adventure, is almost at flood stage and about as silty as a river can get and still flow. Like Abe Lincoln used to say, too thin to plow, too thick to drink.
Just to make things even dicier, it's been a big spring and early summer for the Green and the Colorado rivers this year.
Huge winter snowfalls and spring rains on the north end of the watersheds have raised rivers all over the Southwest; the Green is bloated, flowing five or six miles an hour, so fast it's virtually impossible to paddle the laden canoes upstream. It makes pinpoint navigation difficult, especially close to shore.
When the river is low, there are numerous sand bars and small islands where you can camp. As high as the river is for this trip, however, campsites are few and far between and the shoreline is clogged by unbroken stands of tamarisk.
Tamarisk (also called tamarack) is a dense, willow-like tree, almost impossible to walk through. If there is no opening in the tamarisk, it's impossible to get on shore. Finding a decent campsite becomes a real chore.
Tamarisk is not native to the United States. It was introduced last century and is in the process of clogging every waterway in the Southwest. Nasty, nasty stuff.