by Gary Hansen
The reporter spoke into his microphone. "This is Kevin Scott with KBXY in Phoenix, Arizona. We are here at the site of what's left of the Glen Canyon Dam in Page, Arizona with Grant Stevens of the Bureau of Reclamation. The Bureau built this dam as well as most of the other dams in the country. Grant, give us a quick synopsis of what happened here this morning."
Grant felt like he had told this story a hundred times, but almost forgot everything with the camera in his face. He hesitated, which he knew would look awkward on TV. "Early this morning, an explosion went off in the west elevator of the dam. The original hole was small, approximately five feet in diameter. The water pressure then tore the dam apart over the next four hours." Grant stopped talking and looked back at the reporter.
The reporter didn't miss a beat. "As we speak, the FBI is on site investigating the cause of the explosion. As you can see behind us," the reporter turned and motioned to the dam site, "the Glen Canyon Dam has collapsed and LakePowell is now draining into the Grand Canyon. That's all for now from Kevin Scott."
The light on the camera went out. The reporter looked at the cameraman. "How'd it look?"
"Great. I'll rewind it and you can check it out."
Grant dismissed himself and started walking to the waiting police car. The reporter called out his thanks, but was more concerned with the footage on the camera.
Earl joined in and walked next to Grant. "You're a natural. You oughta be in Hollywood."
"It'll probably get me fired."
"Why? You didn't say anything."
"Doesn't matter. The bosses will be jealous. It should come from them."
"Well, they ain't here."
"They will be." Grant reached out for the car door. "That's when the politics will start." He slid into the back of the squad car.
Earl climbed in the other side. The police car surged ahead and started up the hill toward Page. Grant felt funny leaving the scene, like he was leaving something undone. Part of him wanted to stay and stare. When they crested the top of the hill and entered the city, the car turned left.
He turned and looked at Earl. "What's going to happen here after I leave?"
"Don't worry. We'll baby-sit the tourists." Grant thought he saw a hint of a smile under the large mustache. "And the Feds," Earl added.
As before, the police car drove past the gate and out onto the airport tarmac. A moment later it stopped next to the Gulfstream. The high-pitched sound told him the jet engines were already turning. Grant climbed out of the cruiser and walked toward the plane.
Wendy, the flight attendant, met him at the base of the stairs. "Boulder, Nevada?"
Grant nodded. "Yeah." The mention of Boulder made him think about downstream. Would they lose Hoover too? He headed up the stairs.
Before he ducked into the plane, he turned and looked back at the captain of the Page police force, who was now leaning against the car. Grant cupped his hand and yelled at Earl. "Good luck. Don't let things get outta control."
Earl's response wasn't loud enough to hear, but three jabs from a pointed finger, and over-enunciation of the syllables sent the message loud and clear, "You already did."
Grant held up his cell phone and pointed to it, trying to send the message that Earl could call him if he needed.
Earl nodded and waved, then climbed back in the cruiser. Grant ducked into the Gulfstream that would take him to Hoover Dam.
Wendy shut the door behind him and the noise of the engines almost disappeared.
Although he could have picked any of the leather seats, he chose the second window seat on the right, the same one from his previous trip.
She interrupted him while he was fastening his seat belt. "Can I get you anything?"
He shook his head. "Not now." He touched her arm. "Could you ask the pilot if he could follow the river?"
CHAPTER 14
11:15 a.m. - Hole-in-the-Rock, Lake Powell, Utah
Julie didn't care if her feet were killing her. It had to be over a hundred degrees. She jogged the last few yards to the water, dropped the canteen, sun visor and crumpled t-shirt on the shore, and dove into the refreshing water of LakePowell. She didn't even stop to take off her hiking boots. In the few seconds she glided underwater, Julie felt the water cool her face, arms, back, and legs, saving her from what felt like imminent heat stroke. She let her momentum and buoyancy bring her slowly back to the surface. When she turned, she saw the other three had stopped and were hastily unlacing their shoes. She stroked leisurely back to the shore.
"Aren't you going to take your shoes off?" her husband asked.
When she reached the rocks, she found a small ledge, just under the surface, where she could sit and get to her laces. "I couldn't wait. I was burning up."
Greg laughed. Paul had removed his shoes and had moved to Erika, who sat back and let her husband remove hers. She looked exhausted too, and Julie wanted to help her into the water so Erika could feel the same relief Julie was feeling. Even as Julie reached for her shoelaces, she heard first Greg, then Paul and Erika dive in the water around her.
"Oh, that feels so good." Erika purred.
Paul blew a small stream of lake water out of his mouth like a Roman statue.
Julie's laces released easily. As she struggled with the shoe, Greg swam over next to her and took over, pulling her right one off.
"Let me help you with that." He tossed it up on the bank, and then rolled her sock off, his fingers cleaning between her toes, then massaging her foot.
Greg's hands on her feet made her lean back on the rocks and sigh. She felt light headed. He repeated the service on her other foot, and she decided right then, she would never leave him.
After the foot massage, both couples frolicked in the water for a while. Julie took off her shorts and threw them up on the bank, leaving her only in her bikini. She wished the site were more remote and it were only she and Greg, because for the first time in her life she wanted to skinny dip. Even the small swimsuit felt too restricting.
Greg sat on a rock just out of the water. "How long do you want to stay?"
Erika floated on her back. "I'm never getting out of this water again."
Julie agreed. "What's the hurry?"
"We need to stop at Dangling Rope for gas on the way back."
Erika rolled over on her stomach and glided toward her husband. "Go ahead. My lover and I need some time alone. You can pick us up when you're done."
They all knew that Erika was joking because Dangling Rope Marina was miles downstream, almost to the houseboat. There was no way Greg was going to drive all the way there, then back up to Hole-in-the-Rock to pick them up.
Greg laughed. "No need, Erika. Julie and I will just wait here while you and Paul do what ever you need to do." He gestured to her with an open hand "Go ahead."
Julie laughed while she watched Erika swim after Paul who was staying just out of her reach, and splashing her. While the couple teased each other, Greg stood and stepped gingerly up the rocks to where they had left their possessions. When he reached their stuff, he turned and put his hands on his hips, scanning up and down the shoreline. Julie thought she could see a look of concern on his face.
"He pointed down by the edge of the water. "Doesn't it look like the water has gone down?"
Julie looked at the wet ring above the water. She saw Paul stop and look at it too. Erika took advantage, and grabbed her husband from behind. Paul shucked her like she was nothing and dunked her. Greg pointed at the Mastercraft. "Look at the boat."
Julie looked but did not see anything out of the ordinary. "What's wrong with it?"
Paul interjected. "The rope. We left some slack when we tied it off. Now it's tight."
Julie saw that the rope was in fact very tight and pulling the Mastercraft up against the rocks. "Maybe it came loose and somebody re-tied it."
"No, Julie. Look at the wet band around the lake." He motioned again with his hand and raised his voice. "The water has dropped, maybe five feet or more."<
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Julie wondered why the big deal.
"So?" Erika said. "Who cares if the water dropped a few feet?"
Greg crouched and chewed on his fingernail. It made Julie nervous. Generally Greg was very cool headed. She climbed up the rocks out of the water. Erika followed.
Greg started gathering shoes and socks. "Let's go. There must be something wrong. They must be dumping water like crazy or something."
"Who?" Paul asked.
Greg was already headed for the boat. "The people at the dam. I don't know. We can ask what's going on when we get to the Marina."
Julie gathered up her wet shoes and other possessions. Erika and Paul did the same. The three of them headed for the boat with their arms full. Greg was trying to pull the boat up enough to get slack in the rope with no success. Paul tossed his stuff on the ground and tried to help. Both men struggled, but the rope was already so tight that they would need to lift the boat to get enough slack.
"What are we going to do now?" Julie asked.
Greg fished through the glove box in the boat and retrieved his pocketknife. He freed the blade, cut the rope up close to where it was tied on the rock, and the Mastercraft settled into the water. He retrieved the remainder of the rope from the rock and threw it in the back. He climbed in while Paul held the boat away from the rocks. Greg reached for Julie and Erika's things, and then helped them both in. He was hurrying, which made Julie and Erika hurry too. When everyone else was in, Paul pushed off and jumped in himself. Greg started the engine immediately.
Julie sat in the other front seat and looked at her husband. His brow was furrowed as he scanned up and down the shore. He put the boat in gear and quickly accelerated as they headed out of the small bay into the main channel. Greg was very nervous, something that was very rare for Greg Crawford.
* * *
11:20 a.m. - Grand Canyon, Arizona
Sid followed his friend Ryan as they hiked east along the Escalante Trail. To their left, a couple hundred feet below flowed the Colorado River, which seemed to be running above normal. To their right the Grand Canyon rose gradually almost four thousand feet to the Navajo reservation, where they had left their car, but that was two days ago. Unlike the lightweights that rode mules up and down the tourist trails, Sid and Ryan considered themselves seasoned hikers. You had to be, to hike Tanner and Escalante, two trails which were not for the faint hearted, especially Tanner. Two days before, while descending the twelve-mile TannerTrail, only two miles from the bottom they encountered the last obstacle, a steep climb nicknamed Asinine Hill. Two days later, Sid considered this whole hike to be asinine.
Over the years, he and Ryan had hiked most of the major trails in the Grand Canyon, some multiple times. Tanner, which was located almost 30 miles upstream from the major South Rim trails, had eluded them. And now Sid knew why. Tanner was a killer. Hiking down the trail had wiped him out. His left knee, which had never bothered him before, now screamed out with every step. And Escalante, comparatively, was the easy part. It only ran along the base of the canyon paralleling the river. The hard part, tomorrow, was yet to come, back up the twelve grueling miles of Tanner to the rim. Besides, this part of the canyon wasn't as narrow, and to be honest, wasn't as spectacular. In fact, when he lost sight of the river, Sid thought the landscape was downright ugly. Of course he grudgingly admitted that it might have something to do with the pain in his knee.
"Let's rest." Ryan said without looking back.
Sid didn't respond. But he immediately stopped and let Ryan help him out of his pack. With a sleeping bag, food, water, and stove, each pack weighed a ton. Sid leaned his pack against a rock then sat down and leaned back against it. He massaged his knee, but couldn't quite get his fingers deep enough to do any good.
"How much farther do you think it is?" he asked. Ryan always knew how far things were.
"Close. Maybe an hour." He looked at his watch. "We can have lunch at the trail head, filter some water, then head up Tanner. The farther we make it tonight, the better."
Sid closed his eyes and tried to wish himself a day into the future, up at the rim looking down, and the hike would be behind him. He opened his eyes to see if it worked, but saw he was still at river level. Maybe he was too greedy. He decided to try again, this time wishing only for a mule to carry him up the hill. Hanging from the mule, the knee would still hurt, but it would definitely felt better than hiking.
"Look at that helicopter!" Ryan said suddenly.
The mule disappeared. Sid opened his eyes. "Where?"
Ryan pointed upstream. "I didn't think they were allowed to fly that low."
The helicopter flew at an altitude of only a couple hundred feet above the water as it followed the river. Since the Escalante trail ran above the river, they were at almost the same level as the helicopter.
For a moment it looked like the chopper would fly right past the hikers, but it veered straight toward the two hikers. Ryan stood up defensively, something that Sid would have done too, if it weren't for the knee. Sid peered around the legs of his friend at the helicopter, which had stopped in the air and hovered less than a hundred feet away. They were close enough for Sid to see that both the Pilot and the other guy wore dark glasses and had dead serious looks on their faces. For a moment Sid wondered if the chopper had guns, because if it did, he and Ryan would be sitting ducks.
Not the pilot, but the other guy, spoke into a microphone. "The Glen Canyon Dam has collapsed upstream." The sound was so loud it made Sid want to cover his ears. "Hike immediately to higher ground. Try to get at least five hundred feet above the river, maybe more."
No one moved for a moment. The helicopter hovered. Ryan stood staring at it with his mouth open, and Sid sat peering around Ryan's leg. Was this a joke? He looked at the serious expressionless faces of the two men in the helicopter and decided it wasn't.
"Go now!" said the man. "The river is already rising and the water level will increase rapidly from here on out."
With that said, the helicopter veered off and dropped back into the canyon. They watched it go until it disappeared around the bend downstream. Sid had never seen the Glen Canyon Dam. He looked upstream and tried to imagine a wall of water. How tall was the dam? He couldn't remember, but something told him it was taller than two hundred, which meant he would be underwater if he didn't move. He noticed Ryan had turned and was pulling at the straps on his backpack. He untied the sleeping bag and tossed it aside.
"You just gonna leave that here?" Sid asked.
"Yeah. Screw it." Ryan responded. He tossed a frying pan and stove out as well. He stopped digging through his pack for a second and looked down at Sid. "Come On! Get up."
Sid argued. "Won't we need the bags tonight?"
Ryan pointed upstream. "Our first priority is to make Tanner without getting rimmed by the river. Sleeping in a warm bag is second priority."
Sid rolled over and stood, trying to ignore the knee, which didn't seem to understand the emergency. He reached for his pack, but Ryan grabbed it first and started tossing out anything that looked heavy, including his flashlight, pans, a coffee cup, sleeping bag, and ground cloth. The only thing safe was the water. Sid only watched. However, things had gone too far when Ryan readied to toss Sid's camping tool, the one that looked like needle-nose pliers except for all the accessories including straight blades, serrated blades, screw drivers, corkscrews, not to mention the black leather pouch. The tool had been a Christmas gift from his estranged father. Sid reached out and plucked it from Ryan's hands.
"No. I'll carry that." Sid clutched it close to his body with both hands.
Ryan looked at him for a second, then rolled his eyes. "All right, let's go."
Ryan grabbed Sid's pack and held it up for him, then pulled his own on. Ryan led and Sid followed. They were still buckling belts and straps as they walked. The knee hurt, but it felt much stronger carrying the lighter pack. Compared to before, the backpack seemed empty. Sid looked down at his knee and it thanked him. T
hey walked quickly for almost five minutes before either spoke. Ryan actually jogged for a short stretch, but when he turned and looked back, Sid shook his head.
Ryan stopped and pointed ahead. "Look how high the river's getting."
Sid nodded, wondering if it had been that way for a while, and he hadn't noticed, or if it had increased in the last few minutes.
Ryan cocked his head and looked straight up the canyon walls, then back at the river, obviously agitated.
"What's a matter?" Sid asked.
"Before we get back to Tanner, Escalante goes right down by the river. It'll be underwater."
Sid remembered that. It would be impassable. He pointed at a ridge a few hundred feet ahead and above them. "What about that over there?"
Ryan hesitated and gritted his teeth. "Man I hate to go off trail. We could get rimmed, then what?"
Sid nodded. In the Grand Canyon, like any other steep rock canyon, it might look like you could just find your way back up, but in reality you would eventually get stopped by some vertical cliff that you just couldn't find a way around. There was a reason why the popular trails are so well used, and why there were so relatively few of them.
Sid shrugged. "We don't have any choice though, do we?"
Ryan grimaced. "Guess not." He started again, this time veering off trail and climbing upwards toward the ridge.
After a few moments of hiking over rocks, Sid's knee started to cry out again, making him wish he were back on the trail. Without slowing down, he reached down and rubbed it. Probably due to the combination of walking over rocks off trail, and rubbing his knee at the same time, Sid tripped. It wasn't a big fall. In fact he didn't actually go down. He caught himself with his hands. Unfortunately, he still held the pliers when his hand hit the rock. Which meant a nasty gash on two of the knuckles of his right hand.
"You okay?" Ryan asked.
Sid looked at his bloody hand, then at the pliers from his father, the ones that a few minutes before had been so important. He admired the way the leather pouch wrapped perfectly around it, and how the stitching gave it such a professional touch. He unclasped the top, and slid the pliers out, just a little, enough to feel the polished stainless steel handle. He glanced down at the river, then back at the ridge. "Yeah. Let's go."