The story begins early one Friday morning in late May. At the top of the canyon sits a concrete dam behind which sits El Vado Lake brimming full with snow melt. After a beautiful night's encampment on the lakeside, we head down past the dam to start our journey. Ahead of us we have 35 miles of an untamed river that has slowly carved its way deeper and deeper into the sandstone walls of the canyon. It is known as the Chama River Wild and Scenic Recreation Area, one of just a very few such places remaining in the United States.
At several points along the way the sky becomes little more than a blue ribbon above bounded by sheer rock walls rising hundreds of feet on either side. It is a truly magical place that is untouched by the hand of man -- except for the water levels which are rigidly monitored and controlled. During the summer only those with special permits may take the trip down the river. Before Memorial Day, however, no permits are required. It was then that we had arrived.
Water is unique among all Earthly substances. It is a liquid, but has the properties of a solid when moving. In the world of river rafting the standard basic measure of a river's flow is one cubic foot of water per second. A cubic foot contains about 7.5 gallons of water.
On a typical summer day the Chama River flows past Gauging Station Rapid above Abiqui Lake at about 150 cubic feet per second (cfs). At this rate, water drops below the tops of the boulders and makes for a relatively benign rafting trip -- sometimes even some walking.
On this morning we heard a siren wail up and down the canyon walls alerting us that water levels were going to rise suddenly. The flood gates of the dam about a mile upstream were being opened to release the swelling snowmelt behind the dam. The water temperature was below 50 degrees.
We weren't really prepared for what happened next. Don't get me wrong, we were ready for the water to rise. And that it did. But the water also began to flow faster and faster. It quickly rose out of the stream bed up into the trees adjacent to the river. It swallowed the rapids and boulders. It looked almost placid as it swept quickly past us. It flowed so fast and high that it appeared much safer than it was.
What we didn't know then that we know now is that water was suddenly being released downstream at historic levels. I've checked the official records online recently and found out that since this trip in 1995, water has not flowed down the Chama River canyon anywhere near the levels we encountered that day. It was being released at 4,490 cubic feet per second. Put another way, there were 33,675 gallons of water flowing underneath us each second. Other than one day in May 1995, the river has never flowed more than 1,456 cfs in the twelve years since.
But we had come prepared that day -- we thought. We had all the gear, including wet suits to protect from hypothermia. We had life jackets in case someone fell in the water. We had lots of food and fresh water. Loaded into a 16-foot raft were enough supplies to last the 11 of us a week if necessary. We had shelter and clothing in abundance. Other than a few items taken by individuals who were on inflatable kayaks, all of it was loaded into the raft.
We didn't jump on the river right away either. After we heard the siren, it was decided that we would take as much time as we needed to double check all the gear and to take a refresher safety training course on the river bank. It added two hours to our departure time, but we weren't going to rush safety.
We were overconfident, though. We were inexperienced for the most part. There were lots of novices on this trip, including myself. There were some experts, but they could not watch over all of us all of the time. Mistakes were undoubtedly going to be made. The safety training was intended to limit the impact of those mistakes. Unfortunately, the extra time didn't prevent the disaster that awaited us a few miles down the river.
A river that normally flows at 150 cfs is nothing less than at flood stage when it flows at 4500 cfs. One government pamphlet I read recently said this about a flooding river: "Floods are deadly. Stay away from flood waters. Do not attempt to cross flood waters in your car or on a boat. Never attempt to swim across a flooded stream or river. Many preventable deaths occur every year . . ." You get the drift.
As a peaceful stream, the Chama enjoys its life at the bottom of a river channel. Tree-lined banks offer a home for Canadian Geese and their goslings, deer and other wildlife. When the river is low, the banks are dry and pleasant places. Willows and beavers abound. When the water is low and the rocks are visible, you can see the wakes and eddys -- little currents flowing downstream.
On a raft, steering the boat around these rocks becomes one of the biggest challenges of a wild river trip. Rapids form around the rocks and at places where the elevation of the river suddenly drops. They become a white water obstacle course where sudden drops and turns push a rafter around like a toy unless the person performs certain counter-actions and takes precautions against being thrown out of his boat.
On this day, there were to be no rapids. The water was so high that all of the rocks were submerged several feet under water. The rapids has been washed out. This was going to be a float trip. It might have been simple but for two things: trees and current. The trees along the riverbank were now in the river. The obstacle course for the river rafter on this day was to stay out of the trees. Because the water was flowing so fast and so high, decisions regarding trees had to be made quickly. They had to be avoided at all costs.
Before we jumped on our boats and headed downstream, I decided to take a look at the water coming out of the dam. We stood atop a steep, narrow gorge and looked up at the dam. It looked like a minature version of the Hoover Dam. It was old. But the dam couldn't hold my attention for long.
The ground was literally shaking as if from an earthquake. It was the water. Clear dark water dropped down out of an opening 1/3 of the way from the bottom of the dam, into a concrete channel that curved first down steeply and then upward and outward at a 45 degree angle. When the water reached the end of the channel, it exploded into a massive white spray reaching 75 feet into the air. As it fell, it rained down into the river with the sound of a rocket engine. It was an unending explosion that created a constant roar.
What I saw was nothing less than one of the most awesome displays of power I will ever see in my life. It made me a little weak in the knees. The ground shook. The noise was deafening. The spray of water reached out hundreds of feet. It was AWESOME.
As we left, I snapped a few photos. I had butterflies in my stomach, but wasn't terribly frightened. "Awesome," I kept hearing in my head. I was a little intimidated, but I was also confident that we could safely navigate this river.
Shortly after one o'clock that day we all boarded our boats and began our ill-fated trip down the river. We were smiling and laughing. Our adventure vacation had officially begun. Within the hour the smiles would be gone, two people would be seriously injured and one of us would be trapped several feet under our raft in 40-something degree water pinned by the current against a rock wall.
As we left, I snapped a few photos. I had butterflies in my stomach, but wasn't terribly frightened. "Awesome," I kept hearing in my head. I was a little intimidated, but I was also confident that we could safely navigate this river.
Shortly after one o'clock that day we all boarded our boats and began our ill-fated trip down the river. We were smiling and laughing. Our adventure vacation had officially begun. Within the hour the smiles would be gone, two people would be seriously injured and one of us would be trapped several feet under our raft in 40-something degree water pinned by the current against a rock wall.
Next in "Chama Rama II" Crisis and survival on the river.
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