Showing posts with label Colorado River. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Colorado River. Show all posts

Monday, September 2, 2019

First Women To Travel The Colorado River Through The Grand Canyon




By Kristy McCaffrey

In 1938, Elzada Clover and Lois Jotter became the first women to descend the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon.

Elzada Clover

Elzada Clover was a botany instructor and assistant curator of the botanical gardens at the University of Michigan. She believed the Grand Canyon would reveal many species that would help to round out their collection. Originally, she had planned to descend the canyon by pack mule, but after meeting river runner Norm Nevills, he convinced her that a boat trip would be better. He proposed a 660-mile trip from Green River, Utah, to Lake Mead. If successful, it would make Clover the first botanist to catalog plants along the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon.

Elzada Clover and Lois Jotter

Clover invited 24-year-old Lois Jotter, a close friend and former roommate of Clover's who was a graduate student in botany at the same university, and Eugene Atkinson, a zoology major. Also accompanying them were Bill Gibson (a commercial artist from San Francisco hoping to further his photography career) and Don Harris (a USGS engineer).

Three boats were constructed for the expedition—sixteen feet long, four feet across the stern, five feet amidship, and tapered to a pointed bow. The boats were called the Wen (Norm Nevill’s father’s initials), the Botany (in honor of the expedition), and the Mexican Hat (a rock formation in Utah near where Nevills lived).

By 1938, several men had navigated the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon, but only one woman had attempted it. Unfortunately Bessie Hyde had disappeared with her husband Glen before finishing, and while it was never clear what happened to the couple, it’s believed that they drowned somewhere near Diamond Creek.



The trip launched on June 20, 1938, on the Green River, with plans to reach Lake Mead by the end of July. It wasn’t easy, but they succeeded, the trip taking 43 days. It would be Elzada Clover’s only trip through the Grand Canyon. She often gave talks about her adventure, as well as spoke to her classes about being the first woman to run the Grand Canyon. A complete report of her and Lois’s botanical findings appeared in the November 1944 American Midland Naturalist under the title “Floristic Studies in the Grand Canyon of the Colorado River and Tributaries.” Clover led an active life until her death in 1980 at 83.

Lois Jotter returned to Michigan to complete her Ph.D, during which time she married. She stepped back from academics to raise two children but following her husband’s death in 1963 she joined the faculty at the University of North Carolina as an assistant professor of botany. In 1984, she retired. Lois returned to the Colorado River in 1994 to participate in a Legends Trip, a group of “old-timers” whose purpose was to compare river conditions before and after the construction of Glen Canyon Dam. In 2013, she died at the age of 99.

Though the botanical collections were not as comprehensive as originally planned, Elzada Clover and Lois Jotter made history by becoming the first females to successfully descend the Colorado River through its major rapids.



Come along with Texas Ranger Nathan Blackmore and Emma Hart as they journey through Grand Canyon in 1877.
Click here to learn more about THE SPARROW.

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Monday, April 4, 2016

Important Men of the Grand Canyon

By Kristy McCaffrey

John Hance
One of the most colorful characters in Grand Canyon history was Captain John Hance. Born in 1840, he served in both the Confederate and Union armies, and is thought to be the first non-Native American resident of the Grand Canyon. Arriving in 1883, he first attempted mining asbestos, but failed due to the expense of removing it. He soon started giving tours, opening the first tourist trail in the late nineteenth century. He’s credited with carving a number of trails, which often followed old American Indian paths.

John Hance loved Grand Canyon and remained until his death in 1919. In his memory, there is a Hance Trail, Hance Creek, Hance Canyon, Hance Spring, Hance Mine, Hance Rapid, and a Hance’s Cove. He was famous throughout Arizona for his tall tales. In one, he stated that the Colorado River got so muddy that the only way to quench his thirst was to cut a piece of water off and chew it.

Robert Brewster Stanton
Robert Brewster Stanton (1846-1922) was a civil engineer who conducted a survey of the Colorado River to determine the possibility of building a railroad through the river’s canyons from the Green River in Utah to the Gulf of California. In 1889, hired by a Denver realtor named Frank M. Brown (who hoped to invest in a railroad opportunity), Stanton and a group of men, including Brown, attempted to traverse the Colorado River. But instead of using heavy wooden boats, as John Wesley Powell had done fifteen years prior, Brown decided the expedition should go light. The boats were fragile, the men inexperienced at rowing, and a fatal decision to go without life jackets resulted in the drowning deaths of Brown and two other men within the first few miles of entering Marble Canyon, generally considered to be the beginning of Grand Canyon. Shaken, Stanton and the remaining crew climbed out of the canyon, but soon returned with heavier and deeper boats made of oak, and completed the survey in less than three months. Stanton’s efforts, however, never became a reality, as anyone who’s been to the Canyon can attest—there is no railroad in Grand Canyon.

The Kolb Brothers
Emery and Ellsworth Kolb founded a photographic studio at the Bright Angel trailhead, on the South Rim of the Grand Canyon, in 1903. At first, it was nothing more than a small cave in the side of the canyon wall, but later they erected a two-story wooden structure overlooking the Canyon. They began a very profitable and adventuresome career as commercial photographers, snapping photos of tourists on mules as they rode down the trails. In the process, they provided historical records of early tourism in Grand Canyon National Park.

The Kolb brothers recorded the first adventure movie down the Colorado River in 1912. The movie ran at the Grand Canyon from 1915 until 1976—the year Emery Kolb died—making it the longest-running movie in history.

The Kolb brothers were active participants in the promotion of Grand Canyon, photographing visitors, viewpoints, and areas of the park, establishing the park as a site of national pride and a worldwide icon.


Kristy McCaffrey has been writing since she was very young, but it wasn’t until she was a stay-at-home mom that she considered becoming published. She’s the author of several historical western romances, all set in the American southwest. She lives in the Arizona desert with her husband, two chocolate labs, and whichever of their four teenaged children happen to be in residence. 


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Monday, February 1, 2016

Women Of The Grand Canyon

By Kristy McCaffrey

Elzada Clover (standing) and Lois Jotter (facing
the camera).
In 1938, Elzada Clover and Lois Jotter became the first women to descend the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon. Clover, a botany professor at the University of Michigan, and Jotter, a close friend and former roommate of Clover's who was a graduate student in botany at the same university, planned the trip to “botanize” underexplored parts of the canyon. The journey lasted 43 days and covered over 650 miles. Though the botanical collections were not as comprehensive as originally planned, the two women made history by becoming the first females to successfully descend the Colorado River through its major rapids.

Georgie White was the first woman river guide in the Grand Canyon. In 1955 she began taking customers down the Colorado River in a large rubber raft of her own design. These rigs were 37 feet long, 27 feet wide and consisted of strapping three large inflatable boats together, then mounting a 10-horsepower outboard motor on the rear of the middle boat. This mode was controversial, as those who ran the rapids in wooden dories held disdain for her methods. However, she was able to take paying customers en mass, introducing the rapids and the Grand Canyon to an entirely new group of people. Her effect on the river was tremendous. In 1955 only 70 people floated down the Colorado. By 1972, the number had risen to an astounding 16,400.

Georgie White, first woman river guide
in the Grand Canyon.
Twice divorced, White first ventured into the canyon after the tragic death of her 15-year-old daughter in a hit and run accident. She kept her river-guiding business going for 45 years. At the age of 73, she could be seen holding her motor rig’s tiller with one hand and a beer with the other, wearing a full-length leopard-pattern leotard.

A famous and unsolved mystery in the Grand Canyon involves a young couple named Glen and Bessie Hyde. They married in 1928 and shortly thereafter embarked on a grand adventure—a boat trip on the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon on a homemade scow. Bessie would be the first woman to attempt to ride the river. In November of 1928, about a month after they had set out, their scow was found floating and empty. No trace of them has ever been found.

Glenn and Bessie Hyde, who disappeared on the
Colorado River in 1928. Their bodies were never
found.
Several theories have been put forth as to what may have happened. It was said that Glen was a controlling husband and that perhaps Bessie had killed him, then hiked out of the canyon to start a new life. Some thought the famous river-runner Georgie White was Bessie Hyde, fueled when friends went through White’s belongings after her death in 1992. They found the marriage certificate of Glen and Bessie Hyde, along with a pistol similar to one they’d carried on their journey. This theory has been disputed because Bessie didn’t like river-running, so it’s unlikely she would return to Grand Canyon and make it her vocation. The most likely outcome was that Glen and Bessie drowned, and the bodies simply disappeared.

And now, a fun snake story. In There's this River... Grand Canyon Boatman Stories edited by Christa Sadler, river guide Teresa Yates Matheson describes a trip she took on the Colorado River with her mother. Having set up camp along the shoreline earlier in the day, Teresa was shocked to find a guest at the bottom of her sleeping bag that evening. What felt like a coiled rope soon began moving up the length of her body. In an effort not to alarm her mother, and possibly startle the snake, she remained still and quiet until the reptile exited her bag, the rattles brushing past her face. Thankfully, they soon corralled the critter and moved him upstream.

Kristy McCaffrey has been writing since she was very young, but it wasn’t until she was a stay-at-home mom that she considered becoming published. She’s the author of several historical western romances, all set in the American southwest. She lives in the Arizona desert with her husband, two chocolate labs, and whichever of their four teenaged children happen to be in residence. 


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Wednesday, January 4, 2012

Welcome Kristy McCaffrey

My special guest today is Kristy McCaffrey.  I'm so pleased she agreed to join me today and share an excerpt from her latest release from Whiskey Creek Press.  She's given us a bio so we can get to know her a little better.

Author Bio

Kristy McCaffrey has been writing since she was very young, but it wasn’t until she was a stay-at-home mom that she considered becoming published. A fascination with science led her to earn two engineering degrees—she did her undergraduate work at Arizona State University and her graduate studies at the University of Pittsburgh—but storytelling was always her favorite hobby. Born and raised in Arizona, and recently returned after a 20 year absence in Pittsburgh, she writes Old West romances to capture the landscapes that were such a big part of her childhood. Her first novel The Wren was a CAPA winner for best new author traditional, a Texas Gold finalist, and a HOLT Medallion finalist for best first book. She lives in Scottsdale, Arizona with her husband, four children, and two chocolate labs, Ranger and Lily. Visit her online at www.kristymccaffrey.com.
            
Blurb:
In 1877 Emma Hart comes to Grand Canyon, a wild, rugged, and until recently undiscovered area. Plagued by visions and gifted with a second sight, she searches for answers—about the tragedy of her past, the betrayal of her present, and an elusive future that echoes through her very soul. Joined by her power animal Sparrow, she ventures into the depths of Hopi folklore, forced to confront an evil that has lived through the ages.
Texas Ranger Nathan Blackmore tracks Emma Hart to the Colorado River, stunned by her determination to ride a wooden dory along its course. But in a place where the ripples of time run deep, he’ll be faced with a choice. He must accept the unseen realm, the world beside this world, that he’d turned away from years ago or risk losing the woman he has come to love more than life itself.

Excerpt:
Using desert brush as cover, Nathan approached the confluence of the Paria and Colorado Rivers, his ivory shirt clinging to his shoulders and back as the sun singed anything not protected by precious shade. He estimated he'd gone about a quarter mile when more gunfire pierced the late afternoon atmosphere. He sidled up behind a large willow tree and cradled the rifle in his left arm.
Looking across the Paria he caught sight of the mighty Colorado and for a moment couldn’t breathe. The expanse of water flowed with an undeniable dominion, the strong current kicking whitecaps along the surface. There was no doubt that the river spoke of danger to any who breached it, but the longing that slammed into Nathan nearly knocked him to his knees. He wanted to be on that river.
The gunfire stopped, but Nathan remained concealed.
Three men faced away from him, standing on the sandy banks of the Colorado River. All carelessly held guns in their hands, old revolvers or pistols, and waved them around as they yelled to someone in the water. They weren't particularly fit men, and Nathan knew he could use this to his advantage. They started shooting again, and one of them slowly began to run downstream, his gait awkward, as if the man had only discovered yesterday his legs could perform such a task.
Moving to gain a better view of whom or what might be in the river, Nathan backtracked out of sight to wade across the Paria then approached the Colorado behind the two men remaining. A glance beyond stopped him cold in his tracks.
A woman—as evidenced by a braid of chestnut hair resting across one shoulder—sat in a large wooden skiff, rowing frantically, leaning down whenever a bullet flew past her head. A wide-brimmed hat shadowed her face but he had no doubt of her identity.
Miss Emma Hart. The woman he had been tracking for the last three weeks, a woman he had only seen in a faded photograph, a photograph he'd stared at far too much recently.
Satisfaction mixed with urgency.
Miss Hart was headed down river. Alone.
He didn't have much time. If one of these three idiots didn’t shoot her first she would quickly disappear.
Nathan rushed the two men on shore and knocked one out with the butt of his rifle. As the other man swung an arm around in retaliation, Nathan kneed him in the groin then pinned him to the ground with the Winchester lengthwise across his throat. The man began to sputter, his arms flailing in all directions, and Nathan rendered him unconscious with a well-placed blow to the head.
The third man shuffled toward him. Nathan rolled to the side and avoided the bullet discharged from the man's gun. Not wanting to kill his attacker, he pulled a six-shooter from the holster strapped to his right leg and shot him in the shoulder. His target fell to the ground.
“I’m shot! Oh God!” The man cried in agony. “Please don’t kill me! Reggie? Hersch? Help me!”
Nathan stood, removed the firearms from the two unconscious men then threw the weapons into the river. As he approached the man writhing in the sand, he felt the heat in his boots and could imagine how uncomfortable it was lying on the ground. Nathan almost felt sorry for him and his buddies; almost, but not quite. A stray bullet could have easily hit Miss Hart.
He swung the man’s gun into the water. Glancing down river he saw the woman watching as her boat moved further and further away, her expression and features difficult to discern from the distance.
Nathan moved past the man on the ground, who moaned in short gasps. “You won’t die. Make sure you stop the bleeding and clean the wound.” He ran along the river's edge, waving his arms above him, and yelled toward the woman. “Stop! Come to shore!” He hoped she had the strength to guide the boat against the current and return to him.
She stared but did nothing, except to occasionally turn her head to check the direction of the skiff.
Nathan climbed over and around a cluster of rocks then ran along a beach before coming to a rocky ledge, unable to follow her downstream any further.
“Miss Hart! Emma Hart! I need to talk to you!”
She took both oars in hand and Nathan breathed a sigh of relief that she had finally come to her senses, only to swear under his breath when she began paddling in the opposite direction. He glanced back to the general location of Black.
A man should never have to choose between a horse and a woman.
You really owe me, Matt.
In disgust he threw his hat to the ground, then his Winchester into thick underbrush to hide it. Snapping his revolver into its holster, he hoped he wouldn’t have to lose it as well before reaching the boat. Of course, it would be wet and useless for a day or two, but it went against every instinct he had to be weaponless. Before he could think twice about it, he stepped into the river and dove, immersing his body.
The shock of the cold water rendered his muscles useless for a moment and he struggled to stay afloat as the current carried him. Focusing on his arms, he swam forward. Warmth began to seep into his limbs and his strokes broadened, moving him toward Miss Hart and her boat. The mule-headed woman, however, kept trying to paddle away from him.
“I just need to talk to you,” he shouted. He also needed to get out of the water before the current did him in.
“Stay away from me.” Her voice sounded strong, firm, with only the slightest edge of panic.
He continued swimming toward her. Peripherally he noticed the name on the stern of her boat—Paradise. Wondering if it would prove to be true he quickly grabbed the side before she could maneuver away from him. She released one oar from its lock, swung it around, and hit him square on the head as he attempted to pull himself on board.
“Sonofabitch!” Nathan fell into the water, barely managing to maintain a grip on the gunwale. This sure as hell wasn’t paradise. What made him think chasing this woman was a good idea? Rubbing his head in a useless effort to stop the pain, he said through clenched teeth, “Miss Hart, I have news of your sister.”
That, at least, stopped the oar mid-air as the woman prepared to pound him again. Nathan took advantage of her hesitation and with a quick jerk on the boat he knocked her off-balance. She screamed as she landed with a thud in the wobbly dory and without delay he swung himself over the edge and quickly readjusted his weight.
Miss Hart regained her balance and grabbed the oar, but Nathan easily yanked it from her hand. Her eyes betrayed her next move as she lunged for the other paddle—hanging over the side of the boat and resting in its lock. Nathan swung it out of reach.
“Get out of my boat.” She faced him across the small expanse of the unsteady skiff.
Nathan contemplated the fierce creature before him, her blue eyes flashing with fear and determination. He was in trouble, and from far more than the mighty Colorado.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said with more irritation than intended, his head still pounding. “Why don’t you sit down before you fall overboard.”
Instead, she leaned down and began to rummage inside a rawhide knapsack. Nathan noticed several such bags tied snuggly to the floor of the wooden structure—it was apparently well-stocked for river running. Watching Miss Hart as she doggedly searched for something, Nathan realized too late what his fascination cost him.
Pulling an old Remington revolver from where she’d stashed it, she cocked the gun and pointed it at him. She struggled to stand in the boat as the river continuously pulled them further into the canyon, but the gun she held with confidence. Nathan's gut told him she had some inkling how to use it. He had to give her high marks for tenacity. Clearly, he’d underestimated this woman.
“Gimme your gun,” she said.
“It’s wet. It won’t work anyway.”
Without words she aimed her weapon between his legs.
A man had to know when to cut his losses. Nathan unbuckled the holster and set it at the bottom of the boat between them.
“Who are you?” she asked.
“Nathan Blackmore.”
“How do you know who I am?”
“I’ve been looking for you. I have news of your sister.”
The woman paused. “I never told her where I was going. How did you find me?”
Nathan realized her confusion, but hesitated to offer an explanation while she pointed a potentially loaded gun at a portion of his body he’d rather keep. She might not have ammunition in the weapon, but he didn’t think it would be wise to take chances.
“I give you my word. I won’t harm you in any way, but would you please put the gun down so I can explain it all to you?”
Miss Hart wavered and uncertainty played across her face. Nathan had memorized that face during his long journey from Texas, but the photograph hardly did justice to the reality of the woman before him. While she was comely—something any man alone in the wilderness for days would notice—it was her eyes that surprised him the most. They conveyed a seriousness and depth missing from her photo. The picture was that of a young girl entering womanhood, but the female before him had matured beyond that stage already, in some intangible way more than she should have. The high canyon walls dwarfed them on the tiny boat, bringing a certain insignificance to their showdown, but Nathan sensed there was nothing insignificant about Emma Hart.
Slowly she lowered the gun.
Nathan let out a breath he wasn’t aware he’d been holding.
They both watched the other as the boat continued its slow trek down river, the sun moving behind the western canyon wall, illuminating the rocky pillars to the left. On the outskirts of his vision he noticed the stunning scenery, but Nathan wasn’t sure if he was thinking of this amazing place borne from the natural processes of wind and water or of the woman facing him.
Everything’s different now.
The thought came out of nowhere.
Copyright © 2011 K. McCaffrey LLC