BIRDSEYE VIEW

A RIVER TRIP THROUGH THE GRAND Canyon is often described as a life-changing experience. It typically lasts between seven and 18 days, and river runners are treated to breathtaking scenery, side canyon waterfalls, thrilling whitewater, and long stretches of phoneand internet-free time in one of the Seven Wonders of the World. Now, imagine being on the Colorado River for two and a half months. Such a trip took place in 1923, when 12 men completed a survey trip that holds the distinction of numerous “firsts” on the Colorado. This year marks the centennial of the famous Birdseye Expedition.

It was the first river trip through the Canyon sponsored by the U.S. Geological Survey, and 45-year-old chief topographical engineer Claude H. Birdseye was selected as its leader. A cousin to the pioneer of flash-frozen peas, Birdseye handpicked his crew of 11 for the trip, 76 days of which were spent in the depths of the Canyon. Among those selected were famed explorer and photographer Emery Kolb, as head boatman; hydrologist E.C. La Rue, who promoted grand schemes for how to tame the Colorado; and writer and publicist Lewis Freeman, who sent “real time” articles about the trip’s progress by pack mule from anywhere the river could be accessed by trail. Freeman sent six such dispatches during the trip.

Another first for the expedition was the inclusion of a new, innovative device called a radio. Quite large by modern standards, it weighed 20 pounds and

Burchard surveys a proposed dam site at Lava Cliff Rapid. This once-formidable rapid now sits below the water of Lake Mead.

One of the expedition's boats negotiates a narrow section at the mouth of Havasu Creek, which empties into the Colorado River.

Three of the expedition members check the water level in Lower Granite Gorge in the Grand Canyon's western section.

Washouts on the route to Lees Ferry forced the men to stop and repair some sections of the road before beginning their river journey.

used filament-lined vacuum tubes and dry-cell batteries. It captured news from radio stations KHJ in Los Angeles and KYL in Salt Lake City, dispelling a myth that radio waves couldn't penetrate the depths of the Canyon. It allowed the crew to keep up with world events: On August 2, only the second day of the expedition, the men received the news that President Warren G. Harding had died after returning from a trip to Alaska. In honor of his burial on August 10, the crew laid over at what they named President Harding Rapid.

But the radio served another purpose: to promote the expedition itself. La Rue had connections with the Los Angeles Times, which owned KHJ, and Southern California Edison, which financed much of the survey work related to the potential damming of the Colorado. KHJ broadcast news about the trip to its listeners and delivered messages to the men. Via this and other publicity efforts, the trip's progress was closely followed nationwide. By the early 1920s, only 27 people had descended the entire length of the Canyon by boat, and word of the planned expedition created excitement across the nation.

One goal of the trip was to make a continuousline survey of the river, noting with precision the waterway's vertical drop through the Canyon. Another was to identify potential dam sites that could control and harness the power of the unpredictable river. The dams were intended to put an end to repeated catastrophic flooding on the lower Colorado and satisfy the need for more secure water supplies for the burgeoning population of Southern California.

The river party left Flagstaff on July 18, 1923, taking two days for the 130-mile journey to Lees Ferry. (Today, the same trip can be made in just over two hours.) Washouts from floods during a rainy summer forced the men to rebuild the road in some sections. The crew then spent 12 days at Lees Ferry, refurbishing a few boats that Southern California Edison had left from previous river surveys upstream. They launched their historic river run August 1 and ended the trip two and a half months later, on October 19, at the railhead in Needles, California. As they were preparing to leave Lees Ferry, they encountered another river trip, one that had come through Glen Canyon. It marked the first time two separate river parties had met each other on the Colorado. The other trip was led by explorer and guide David Rust, originator of Rust Camp in the Grand Canyon. That site later became Roosevelt Camp, then Phantom Ranch.

Eight of the 12 Birdseye men kept journals, while two others wrote letters that survive. As their words reveal, there were both successes and difficulties. Some of the adversity involved strong personalities that clashed. Birdseye was an effective and steady leader who kept these disagreements under control. But before the trip even began, there was contention when famed river runner Bert Loper was not chosen as head boatman. He had been the lead boatman on two earlier government surveys, on the San Juan and Green rivers, and expected he would be chosen to lead this one. But Birdseye wanted someone with previous Grand Canyon boating experience, and Kolb easily met this qualification, having completed a 1911-12 trip with brother Ellsworth.

Kolb accepted Birdseye's offer of lead boatman, but not without some prickly negotiations regarding salary and filming rights. Kolb asked for $1,000 per month, plus "exclusive film privileges." Birdseye, not wanting to insert any distractions from Kolb's assigned duties as head boatman, refused the filming request and countered with $500 per month - more than his own monthly salary of $415. But Birdseye did allow crew members to take cameras, and Kolb packed a small movie camera and used governmentsupplied film. Further, Kolb was to supply a copy of any footage to the government but La Rue, not Kolb, was given the title of official filmmaker and photographer. Kolb carried his resentments throughout the trip and nearly quit the expedition at Hermit Rapid, not even 100 miles in. Birdseye was ready to let him leave until Kolb begged to be let back on. Today, a movie La Rue made of the trip can be found on YouTube.

Kolb brought his 16-year-old daughter, Edith, to Lees Ferry, and she provided some gaiety with her easy ways in all things outdoors. She also visited the party at the foot of the Hance Trail, where the trip received a much-needed resupply from the South Rim. Hance Rapid is one of the most difficult of the Canyon's rapids, but Edith nevertheless received permission from her father to ride the rapid in one of the boats. In doing so, she likely became the first woman to run a major rapid in the Canyon.

After only 25 miles, the small canvas boat the men had been using to deftly land the survey party on pocket-sized landings was crushed and lost in Cave Springs Rapid, leaving only the four heavy wooden boats to do the measuring work. Another incident involved the naming of a different rapid. On September 12, the men faced a rocky cataract, forcing them to portage their gear around the rock-strewn riverbank - all in a heavy, soaking rain. When Kolb

brought his now-lightened boat to the head of the rapid, he attempted to miss some obstacles on the right bank but was caught in the main current and swept over a boulder that formed a 10to 12-foot drop on the other side. His boat flipped, and he was caught beneath it for some 300 yards. He managed to escape from under the overturned boat, but not before inhaling some of the rank, muddy water. Shaken, Birdseye called for an end to the day on a sandbar downstream from what now is known as Upset Rapid. He ordered that the "medicine chest" be opened and a dose of "snake-bite medicine" be given to all.

Six days later, on September 18, the men made camp above Lava Falls, known as one of the most perilous rapids in the Canyon. The men saw numerous boulders besetting the channel and considered the river unnavigable due to the many obstacles. The rain of the preceding few days was concerning, but their radio had been sent out at Havasu Creek for repairs; thus, they could receive no weather reports. Beginning at 6 p.m. and continuing all night, the river rose 1.5 feet per hour, forcing the men to move their gear to higher ground three times. The river rose about 21 vertical feet in just 24 hours and experienced a tenfold increase in volume, from 9,300 to more than 98,000 cubic feet per second.

The men were soaking wet by morning and didn't recognize the rapid now before them, flush with frothy debris and giant trees that shot out of the whirlpools like cannonballs. Most of the men noted the acrid smell of the floodwater in their journals. They now were unable to run the rapid for a different reason, as their last survey point was well underwater. They waited three days for the flood to subside. Once they finally got underway, reports of the party having trouble from the flood splashed across newspaper headlines. The party, however, was safe and finished the trip in fine fashion.

Fortunately, none of the eight dam sites the expedition identified in the Canyon was ever turned into a dam. The trip did, however, show that the federal government could partner with public utilities to dream big and harness the power of the mighty Colorado. Just 10 years later, work began on Boulder (now Hoover) Dam in Black Canyon. The resulting Lake Mead and other reservoirs on the Colorado have allowed the Southwest to weather the current 22-year drought and grow the populations of its numerous desert cities. Whether this specific vision of managing the river is ultimately deemed brilliant or ill-conceived remains unknowable at this time. But the Birdseye Expedition through the Grand Canyon 100 years ago is something to recall and commemorate. ан