The Rio Chama Trip by Cathy Curtis

It's called the Rio Chama. It’s in north central New Mexico and it’s where the 12 of us were to boat July 16 — 17, 1999. Cast and crew included: permit holder & solo boater Ted Drake; rafters George Wilhelm, Linda Shields and Jenelle Wilhelm; and tandem canoe pairs Ronnie Ash & Diana McCown, Kathy Cash & Janet Lafferty, Cathy Curtis & Weldon Sanders, and Curtis Boerner & Laura Thornton. After a class IV drive (14 hours), we arrived at El Vado Lake State Park where we pitched our tents around 1:00am.

Five hours later we awoke to find ourselves overlooking the lake. It was a beautiful sunrise, with the mist still rising off the lake. We were in no particular hurry since the scheduled release was not to take place until sometime after lunch. We arrived at the put-in around 10:00am and began readying our boats. Since we planned to run our own shuttle, the four drivers took off about 10:45am. (Total shuttle time was estimated at 1 o to 2 hours).

It was a beautiful day with lots of sun and temps in the upper 80’s. By 12:30 we were ready for lunch, but the shuttle drivers hadn’t yet returned. To pass the time (and keep ourselves from eating without the others), song divas Diana McCown and Laura Thornton entertained us with their "unique" versions of blasts from the past. All that was needed to get them going was a word or phrase and off they would go, impressing us all with their never-ending repertoire. Shortly after 1:00pm (just as we’d given up) the shuttle drivers returned from what they called the "class V" shuttle. "You’ll see when we take out. Just hope it doesn’t rain."

And so at 2:00pm we were on our way downriver. The Rio Chama offers quite an array of scenic vistas, large green pine trees, rolling hills with lush foliage, steep rock bluffs with layers of color. For some of our group this was a first descent, for others a repeated delight. The river was flowing at around 800 cfs and the water resembled slightly reddish chocolate milk. We spotted a group of 22 geese around one bend and Weldon says he saw either a coyote or gray fox. He couldn’t be sure which and his paddle partner was too slow to spot it. There was only one "rapid" — a class II — to speak of during the first 10.5 miles we covered the first day. And then right before camp an-other rapid appeared — not remembered from last year.

So after only 3 hours of paddling we found a suitable campground and called it a good day on the river. George Wilhelm and company provided the food for the trip and served chicken fajitas that evening. After dinner we settled ourselves down to a round of tequila shots, cinnamon schnapps and another round of songs from the divas (and diva wannabe's). Ronnie brought out his recorder and filled the night with a remarkably lovely sound. It doesn’t get much better than that. The rain that had been threatening us slightly the day before never materialized.

We awoke to partly sunny skies and milder temperatures. A robust pancake and sausage breakfast started lour day off right and by 10:00am we were once more on the river. The water level had dropped about a foot but our flow was still moving right along. Several class II-III rapids were before us this day. Also a quiet stretch past the Christ of the Desert Monastery.

We lunched on the bank underneath a large overhanging rock and were entertained by a momma goose and her 5 charges as they were put through their paces. The final few miles held several really fun rapids. Lots of waves and rocks to maneuver around. Weldon and his paddle partner made the supreme sacrifice for the group by finding the best route on one of the more rocky rapids. By landing their canoe on top of a submerged rock, they "saved" the others from a similar fate. This should by no means be considered a swim, as both voluntarily left the canoe (we had to, it wasn’t going anywhere with us in it) and walked it to shore. "The sacrifice of the few for the good of the many." We embraced that motto strongly.

The rain held off until just as we hit the take-out, and even then it wasn’t much. But still, the words of the shuttle drivers rang in our ears… "Just hope it doesn’t rain." We still faced the "class V" shuttle road back to civilization. As luck would have it though, we made it in fine shape. The winding, narrow road with its 2-foot deep ruts wasn’t quite slick enough to hold us and by 5:00pm we were headed for home.