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Drink it in

A dory trip through the Grand Canyon offers a taste of herbal tea in its soothing flat stretches, offset by rousing jolts of caffeine delivered via its rapids.

GRAND CANYON, Ariz. - Like a liquid freight train that has jumped its tracks, the flow of the Colorado River careens toward the canyon's far wall. Beyond, it shakes and churns down a channel choked with submerged boulders. Between those rocks and the hard place froths enough hydrological mayhem to flip the Queen Mary.

Expedition leader Bill Bruchak guides our tiny boat toward the left side of the flow. With a series of hefty pulls, he rows stern-first into the agitated bedlam. Engulfed in turbulence, Bruchak yanks an oar, and we pirouette to go with the current.

Ahead stands a wave taller than a suburban tract home. As we graze its side, water arcs down, filling the foot wells 15 inches deep. A series of rolling tail waves follow. Like the mechanical bull at Gilley's, the boat bucks through each swell with all onboard screaming "HEE-HAW!"

We finally reach the eddy at rapid's end, and I'm beaming. House Rock Rapid has just given me an exhilarating taste of how dories cruise through white water.

Dories, considered the sports cars of commercial river running, are made of wood, foam and Fiberglas. They stand about 18 feet long, 56 inches wide and comfortably hold four passengers and an oarsman. A flat bottom and upturned ends make them easy to steer on the river, and because they have rigid hulls, they don't flex with the waves as rubber rafts will. Instead, a sharp prow splits the water in a way that makes even riffles exciting. Unlike inflatables, though, these rigid-walled craft can crack on rocks, so dory drivers must carefully plot routes through rapids.

"They're a royal pain sometimes, but they're worth it because of the ride you get," says guide Shawn Browning.

On this Grand Canyon Dories journey through the length of the canyon, we have four boats for 16 clients, rowed by a three-man, one-woman crew of seasoned guides. The bulk of our gear travels aboard a pair of oar-powered baggage rafts.

Our first camp lies on a riverside beach 2 miles below the rapid. In a drill that's repeated for 17 nights, everyone first unloads gear and waterproof "dry bags" from the rafts. While we seek sleeping sites, the cooking team begins preparing a fresh-food dinner in a portable kitchen, complete with propane stove and lantern. Others assemble water-purification and hand-washing stations, then find a secluded yet scenic spot for the portable potty. Nicknamed "The Unit," this toilet-seat-on-an-ammo-can offers a throne with a view.

We spend evenings circled around a campfire. The Milky Way shimmers overhead, its luminescence painting the gaps between inky canyon walls. Civilization fades far away.

Most mornings, I awaken to the descending notes of a canyon wren. After coffee and a hot breakfast, we load boats and head downstream. Calm current and raging white water await.

Rapids occur near the mouths of side canyons where flashfloods have washed rocks and rolled boulders into the river. We porpoise through most like dolphins on pep pills. If the boat hits waves straight on, the prow shoots high into the air with nothing but blue above the bow.

Grand Canyon cataracts are rated on a 10-point technical scale, with "one" being a dancing riffle and "10" a slobbering ogre ready to devour anything floating through. I soon develop my own rating system based on how many inches of water occupy the foot well at rapid's end.

Although pros operate the oars, dory passengers play a part in running rapids. We are responsible for "high siding," a weight-shifting maneuver that helps keep the boats from tipping.

"If a big wave's coming right at the side of the boat, you want to lean into it," says guide Elena Kirschner. "That means you're going to get wet and cold, but it's a lot less wet and cold than swimming in the river."

Fortunately, dories seldom flip, and unlike rafts, they are easy to turn right-side up. Our dories don't tip over, but a private raft trip that launched the same day we did experiences several upsets.

If rapids provide the river's caffeine, flat stretches are its chamomile tea.

In the calm between the cataracts, we relax as oars stroke the water in metronome rhythm. Great blue herons stand by the shore watching our passage. Bighorn sheep gaze down from above. Rock walls reach upward, their colors and textures revealing the canyon's geological history. We float through nature's gallery, displayed at its artistic best.

"If this was all flat water, I'd like it just as much," says baggage-boat oarsman Kurt Brooks.

Although we stop at the canyon's famous spots, it's the secret places that prove most memorable. We climb to overlooks and hike side canyons to waterfall grottoes. We see where geologic faults have bent rock as if it were made of taffy. We examine prehistoric petroglyphs, pictographs and Indian ruins, as well as remains left by miners, railroad surveyors and would-be dam builders.

Conventional civilization lies in abeyance. Only on day eight when we reach Phantom Ranch, an inner-canyon lodge, is our wilderness interrupted. There, surrounded by hikers and mule riders, we buy lemonade, T-shirts and postcards. Escaping back into the wild, we camp for the night below Horn Creek Rapid, one of the canyon's more challenging cataracts. The worst lie ahead.

The next day, we cover what Bruchak claims is "the biggest navigable water for a dory in North America." In 23 miles we navigate 16 named rapids that include several of the canyon's gnarliest. I ride with Browning.

After breezing through Salt Creek Rapid, we hit Granite, a boiling pot of froth and turbulence. Browning aims down the tongue, but misses the line by a few inches. Nipping "the crasher," he spins around. Suddenly, we're rushing stern-first toward a very hard wall.

"Schist!" I shout, naming the rock strata lying dead ahead.

Browning pulls the oars with every adrenaline-packed ounce of energy he can muster. But the river is stronger.

WHAM! We hit with an impact that would make a demolition derby driver wince. The collision spins us again so we're now moving forward. Browning catches the current, and we finally jolt out the bottom of the rapid. Opening the stern hatch, I expect to see a Titanic-sized hole, but it's dry. We're only bruised, not broken.

Once, molten magma dammed the Colorado, but the relentless river eroded away the impediment, leaving only a surging drop called Lava Falls in its wake. Though not the most technically upsetting rapid, it's the one that drives more boatmen to hit the Maalox.

"Every time I make that turn and hear the roar, my heart jumps 15 beats faster," says Bruchak, with whom I ride today.

The cataract looks like a blender churning milkshakes in the river. We slowly approach the lip of the cataclysm like condemned prisoners on a gurney.

"Hang on," he says. "We're getting close. Get ready!"

We teeter at the brink, then swoop into the Cuisinart chaos. A ledge to the left has formed a gaping maw in the river. Bruchak pulls the dory to the edge of it, gaining momentum.

"Get ready! Big one!"

We sever a lateral wave and slice down to where two currents rush together to form a bulging V-wave. The bow rises. Water flies. We bounce like an ice cube in a martini shaker.

"Bigger one coming! Hang on! BIGGER ONE!"

We plow through a second, larger V-wave. Torrents crash by the boat's bow. I grip the gunwales so tightly I expect to leave indentations in the hardwood. We bound, bounce and bash through the rapid's gut, finally exiting through the tail waves.

Nine seconds after it began, it's over. Bruchak pulls into the eddy and everyone breathes a triumphant sigh of relief.

"There's no place on the river like that," he says, grinning.

I look at the bottom of the boat. Only four inches of water slosh in the foot well. Maybe Lava Falls isn't so bad after all.

Freelance writer Dan Leeth lives in Aurora, Colo.

WHEN TO GO: Grand Canyon Dories operates trips with departures from April through October. Spring brings cool temperatures and abundant wildflowers, but weather can be unstable and temperatures can range from pleasantly warm to incredibly cold. The sun sets early (Arizona does not honor daylight savings time), so there is more time for sitting around the campfire.

Summer brings hot days, with temperatures often touching triple digits. The heat makes the 45-degree river temperature more bearable. Afternoon thunderstorms are common. This is a time when the river is most crowded, with many groups sharing the sites and adjoining camps.

Late summer-early fall brings cooler temperatures and generally more stable weather. Crowds are diminished, and after Sept. 15, motorized trips are banned from launching. River days are shorter, meaning trips are longer, ideal for those wanting to maximize time below the rim.

WHO SHOULD GO: Participants should be in good health, able to climb into and out of boats and capable of walking short distances on uneven terrain. The minimum age is 12, but there is no maximum age. Founder Martin Litton, who is now well into his 80s, still rows a trip nearly every year.

Dory trips involve days floating in the sun and nights camping on riverside beaches. There is no cell phone coverage and nary an Internet hookup available in the inner canyon. The only "civilization" is Phantom Ranch, where a few pay phones allow contact with the outside world.

THE TRIP: Grand Canyon Dories, toll-free 1-800-877-3679, www.oars.com offers full canyon trips Lee's Ferry to Lake Mead ranging in length from 16 to 19 days. The $4,378 to $4,458 price includes all food on the trip plus transportation to and from Flagstaff, Ariz. For those who want to maximize their time on the river, a 21-day "Ultimate Grand Canyon Trip" begins Oct. 18 and costs $4,961.

Shorter options are possible, with passengers leaving or meeting ongoing trips at Phantom Ranch. A seven- or eight-day journey through the upper canyon is available for $2,346 to $2,486. Lower canyon alternatives of nine to 13 days cost $3,213 to $3,456.

On all trips, tents and dry bags are provided, with sleeping bags and foam pads available for rent. Food and soda is provided, but alcoholic beverages must be either purchased in advance or brought from home.

OTHER PROVIDERS: Of the 16 outfitters operating commercial trips in the canyon, the only other company to offer dory trips is Grand Canyon Expeditions, toll-free 1-800-544-2691, www.gcex.com A 14-day trip starting at Lee's Ferry is offered this month no spaces remain, but call in the event of a cancellation and in September (a few spaces remain). Cost is $3,175.

A complete list of all firms offering raft trips through the canyon can be found on the Grand Canyon Web site, www.nps.gov/grca and click on the "online trip planner" at left and follow the prompts.

FOR MORE INFORMATION: To learn more about the Grand Canyon, contact the National Park Service, 928 638-7888. For information about visiting the Grand Canyon state, contact the Arizona Office of Tourism, toll-free 1-866-275-5816, www.arizonaguide.com