by Gary Hansen
Fred waved his hands back and forth. "I don't see what difference it'll make. It's still going to flood all the houses in Laughlin and BullheadCity, and bust through Parker Dam. Plus it'll leave even less time to evacuate the area."
Grant couldn't deny Fred's logic. "Is there anyway to drain Havasu at the same time? I wonder if we can blow Parker Dam and drain some of the water out of Havasu before we bust Davis?"
Fred didn't respond. He looked around as if he was afraid somebody else was listening.
Grant got back to basics. "Look, let's go get the governor and at least get him to make the calls to get Davis and Parker to open the gates.
Fred held his hands out in front of him. "You're not going to say anything about busting the other two dams yet are you?"
Grant shook his head. "No, we'll wait to bring that up until after we get the gates open."
Fred stood and they both went to find the governor.
* * *
4:55 p.m. - Lake Powell, Utah
Julie stopped to wait. Paul set down his armload of blankets on a clean rock. Erika sat down on a muddy rock, too tired to worry about getting dirty. Erika had been limping slightly and she showed Julie what was going to be an awful bruise on her hip from her leap from the houseboat. They waited for Max and Darlene. Darlene was traveling very slowly and was holding the group up.
Julie guessed they had started hiking down from the remains of the houseboat more than a half hour before. Julie's ankles and feet were aching even with the tennis shoes. She was also thirsty, and hungry. She realized now, that they should have searched through the remains of the houseboat for some food. Too bad she had not thought of that until it was too late.
As soon as Darlene and Max reached them, Paul started walking again. "Let's keep moving."
Julie helped Erika up. She had mud on her legs from the rock. As they walked Julie thought about brushing it off, but decided to ignore it. She was too tired to care and felt sure that Erika felt the same. Darlene and Max followed behind.
After they walked for a few minutes, Paul stopped and turned around, facing the girls. "Is this the section where Greg dropped us off?"
Julie looked around. "I don't think so. It looks completely different."
Erika nodded. "Yeah, it is. It just looks different because all this was underwater." She pointed at some rocks. "See, that's the ridge over there we walked along after we got out of the boat."
Julie stared for a moment before her eyes confirmed it. "Wow. Good thing we didn't leave the boat here like I wanted to, huh?" She managed a small smile. There were only a couple pools left with trapped water, none very large. The pool she and Erika had swum through was empty.
"The water is dropping that fast?" Max asked. "You guys were just here a while ago weren't you?"
Darlene stared at her husband. "Well, that's about how fast the water dropped while you were asleep."
Paul started off again. "We should be close, let's keep moving." The others followed.
Around the next bend was the section where Greg had swerved and both girls were thrown out of their seats. The water had drained this section too. Julie wondered if Mars would look similar. She had seen pictures of Mars and its rocks. The orange rocky landscape seemed exactly the same.
When they passed the boulder, they could see around the next bend. Although most of this section had also drained, a hundred feet away was the receding shore of the lake. Julie looked back and guessed in total the water had dropped twenty-five feet since they had left Greg. The sight of water ahead gave all five hikers a boost of energy and they picked up the pace. When Paul reached the water, he walked around it along the left shore. The canyon continued for another hundred feet before the next bend.
"Where is he?" Erika asked.
Paul cupped his hands. "GREG."
They listened, hoping he was just around the corner. No answer.
They continued hiking until they reached the bend. Vertical cliffs down to the water prevented them from avoiding getting wet.
"I'll swim around this bend and see if I can see him." Paul said.
"Crap." Erika sat down on another muddy rock. "I thought he'd be down here."
"He's probably just around the corner a little bit," Julie said, although she felt as disappointed as Erika.
Darlene sat down on a rock. By this time Paul had waded into the water. He waded out until the water was up to his chest then put his head in the water and started swimming. The bend wasn't too far and Paul reached it in a few minutes. He stopped for a second, treading water. He turned and started swimming back. He walked up the bank and ran his hand back through his hair. He motioned at the expanse of water they had just walked around. "This is just a hole." His voice came out winded from the swim. "The water has drained on the other side. We'll have to swim through, then hike again for a while."
"What?" Julie said. "This is just a pond?"
"Yeah. I saw more wet rocks around the bend.
Julie wanted to complain, but she knew it wouldn't help. Darlene groaned.
Paul started rolling the blankets tight like a sleeping bag. Julie realized they would need to swim while holding their possessions over their heads to keep them dry. She motioned to Erika that they should get ready too.
She spread out two shirts and rolled everything else into them. Julie tied her car keys to the strings on her swimsuit.
Paul tried to keep the group focused. "Are you ready?" He held the roll of blankets over his head and waded into the water.
The others followed. By the time Julie got to the other side, the muscles in her arms were burning from holding the clothes above her head while swimming. Paul came down and took the clothes from her, and helped her up.
"Thanks," she said.
He helped Erika and Max, then Max held Darlene's hand as she climbed out. They were off again. Paul picked up the pace slightly which Julie didn't mind. She felt anxious to find Greg again. They had been gone a long time. She hoped nothing else had gone wrong. The thought of him not being there when they arrived kept popping back into her head. She tried to push it out, knowing that he would be waiting, but she kept picturing an image of him screaming as the Mastercraft floated over the Glen Canyon Dam. In the image, she was looking over the edge of the dam and the boat kept falling and falling until she lost sight of Greg in the mist of the waterfall.
Paul had put a little bit of distance between himself and the group. He turned and yelled for the others. "We made it. I see him."
The tired feeling seemed to subside as Julie covered the distance. As she rounded the next bend in the river, she saw a pool of water that this time seemed to go on forever. Greg was floating about a hundred feet from the edge. He apparently hadn't seen them yet.
"GREG, WE MADE IT."
His head cocked and he smiled. "About time." He fired up the boat and idled it over to where all five hikers were now standing. "I was beginning to wonder if you guys were ever coming back."
Julie saw Greg look them over, especially Erika and Darlene. Erika was starting to look like a ghost. She didn't have any color in her face except for the red dirt and dried blood. Her eyes were lifeless. Darlene was breathing heavy. Julie looked down at herself and decided she didn't look very good either. She had the red dirt on her legs and swimsuit. Paul, on the other hand, looked fine.
"What happened to Erika?" Greg asked.
While Max handed bundles of clothes and blankets to Greg in the boat, Julie gave a brief description of the events at the houseboat including Erika's last second jump to safety. Erika didn't peep for the whole conversation. Max then gave a short explanation of his and Darlene's aborted kayak trip. When finished, Julie reached up to climb in the boat. Greg raised his eyebrows, and told her to rinse off first, a testament to how dirty she was. The other four followed Julie's example, cleaning and refreshing themselves in the water, before climbing in the boat.
A few moments later they were under way. The padded seats and the breeze felt wonderfu
l. Julie took a long swig from the water jug and passed it back to the others. She had a clear view back at Erika. She was falling asleep, the poor girl.
* * *
5:00 p.m. - Grand Canyon, Arizona
"Right side paddle. Left side paddle. COME ON. Becky, don't give up."
David was exhausted. "We're trying Keller."
"One last burst. NOW. Paddle. Right side. Left."
The current moved them quickly along a rocky shore toward a sandy canyon inlet just up ahead. They needed to be in perfect position or they would miss it, and they were going too fast. Keller had tried to maneuver the raft so they could land in the big campground. But the current was pulling them away from the beach, out into the river.
Becky started to cry, "We're not going to make it."
Keller stood. "WE ARE GOING TO MAKE IT! Come on folks. Give me all you got. NOW!"
All six rafters dug in with the paddles and pulled as fast as they could. David's arms were burning. If anything, the raft seemed to be a few feet farther from the shore. The beach swept by at an alarming speed. Then the beach was gone, replaced by rocks.
"Damn it!" Keller sat down. "Okay, right side paddle a little and let's get away from these rocks."
The rafters gasped for breath. Becky sobbed in slow convulsions. Sam put his hand on her shoulder.
The beach was the raft's second failed attempt at a campground in the last fifteen minutes. Keller kept commenting that the speed of the water was increasing dramatically as it rose. David didn't think the group needed Keller to keep reminding them. It was obvious. It made timing the landings much more difficult. Three other campgrounds Keller wanted to stop at had been completely underwater when they passed. David was beginning to wonder if they would be able to land the raft at all.
Afram swiveled and looked at Keller. "How far's the next one?"
Keller looked around, rubbing his forehead. "ForsterCanyon is the next big one, but it's on the other side of the river." He stood up in the raft and looked across. "But it's only about a half a mile. We'll never make it in time." Keller sat down as the raft slid through a rapid splashing the left side of the boat.
"What about past Forster?" Afram asked.
"There's a couple small ones around the bend, but I bet they're under water too."
Becky turned around still sobbing. "Well what're . . . we . . . gonna do?"
"There's a small canyon about a mile down on our right. It's too rocky to make a good campsite, but maybe we can land there and find some shelter in the canyon until the water subsides a little."
"Can we rest for a minute?" David asked.
"Yeah. Good idea. Everybody rest," Keller said.
* * *
5:15 p.m. - Hoover Dam, Nevada
After an hour of phone calls, conference calls, explanations, arguments, persuasion, and coercion, the gates were finally opening at Davis and Parker Dams. The decisions would not have been made without Rally Jenkins, the governor of Nevada. His clout made the difference, especially when the governors of Arizona and California got involved. With a break in the action, Fred motioned for Grant to follow him.
"How long since you ate anything?"
Grant looked at his watch. "Not since I got here."
"I thought so. I sent one of my guys out to get us some sandwiches. Let's take a little walk and clear our minds a bit."
Fred led him up the stairs and out the glass doors into the hot, dry Nevada air. Grant shielded his eyes from the sun until they adjusted. The stifling air immediately sapped the energy from his body.
Fred started walking away from the visitor center, out onto Hoover Dam. Grant followed. Fred walked on the sidewalk, even though the road was closed. As they walked, Grant looked down the downstream side of the dam to the river below. Fred stopped in a five by five foot viewpoint jutting out from the top of the dam. He leaned over the rail, which was actually an eighteen-inch thick concrete wall, and looked straight down the face of the dam.
"I wanted to get you out here before you talked to the governor about your idea of intentionally breaching Davis Dam."
Grant put his head down and kicked at a candy wrapper on the ground. "Yeah, I can only imagine how he'll react to that."
"Are you absolutely sure that it's going to fail?"
"Of course, based on the report from the -"
"How do you know the report is right? Didn't they make lots of assumptions when they put it together?"
Grant looked up. "Fred, the computer modeling is all we've got. The engineers spent months putting the report together. Even if it's not perfectly accurate, it's predictions could be worse just as easy as they could be better. Besides, the report is based on facts, numbers, and calculations. You want us to make decisions on feelings instead?"
They were both silent for a moment. Then Fred continued. "You said that the water is thirty feet lower in Lake Mead than the report assumed. Plus, blowing the two spillways should drop it another three feet." Fred turned and looked across the crest of the dam. "So what's your guess as to how much water's going to go over the top?"
Grant looked across the dam too, as if the answer was painted on the cliffs on the other side. "We have a couple other things going for us. The study assumed that both Lake Mead and LakePowell would be full, as a worst case. LakePowell is lower than normal due to this drought. With both lakes lower, it'll make a big difference. That's what I've got Shauna doing. She's trying to adjust the numbers based on the lower levels. My guess is that when it's all said and done, ten to fifteen feet of water is going to go over this dam, but twenty is not out of the question."
"Well that's better than the seventy you told the governor."
"Yeah, but even if it were only five feet, it would still take out Davis and Parker Dams. I don't see anyway possible to prevent it."
Fred looked over the face of the dam again, seemingly mesmerized. He looked depressed. When he finally raised his head, his face seemed lifeless. "So what you're saying is that seventy years ago, five thousand men spent five years building this dam seven hundred and twenty six feet high, and it needed to be fifteen feet higher."
The reality of Fred's observation hit Grant in the gut. His heart skipped two beats. He looked across the dam, then ran out into the middle of US-93 to get a better look. He looked right down the yellow line across the dam. He mentally calculated the distance between the handrails on both sides.
"That's it Fred!" He looked at his watch. "You're a genius."
"What is it?" Fred joined him in the middle of the street. "What did I say?"
Grant turned and started running back toward the visitor center with Fred right behind. He called over his shoulder. "We'll make the dam twenty feet higher! Let's go talk to the governor."
CHAPTER 19
5:30 p.m. - Lake Powell, Utah
Julie couldn't help but marvel at the height of the watermarks on the rock walls. She guessed the water levels had dropped over seventy feet. The crowd of boats heading south had grown too. There were literally hundreds of boats, and they could be divided into two groups, the sane, and the insane. The sane meandered down the center of the channel at a steady pace; this group included many houseboats. The second group, the insane, swerved back and forth recklessly in between and around the others; this group included the faster crafts including smaller water-ski boats and all types of personal water craft. When Greg merged the Mastercraft in with the other boats, part of Julie was glad that he chose the steady pace of the sane, but a small part of her understood the other group, and wanted him to gas it.
At one point, the canyon had narrowed at a bend in the river, forcing everyone to slow, including the insane. Boats funneled together, bumper-to-bumper, through the tight turn caused by the much lower river. Paul had moved to the bow, and with his feet, kept the boat from banging into the boats in front of them. After the delay, and the river widened again, the boats were able to accelerate back to speed.
They had continued that way for a while, when G
reg slowed the Mastercraft again. Julie stood and looked at what must be five hundred boats crammed together, all of them snaking around a huge red rock butte directly in front of them. The butte, which appeared as if someone had placed it right in the middle of the channel to block traffic, was vaguely familiar, yet something looked out of place.
"Where are we?" Julie asked.
Greg pointed at the rock. "That's Gregory Butte. And over on the right is LastChanceBay."
Julie looked around. "Wait. I thought Gregory . . ."
Greg pointed to the left of the huge rock structure. "Normally, we pass through over there. All that . . ." He motioned across a rock plateau from Gregory to the left shore. ". . . is usually underwater."
Julie saw that the exposed rock left of Gregory Butte was dark and wet, something she should have noticed before. She tried to imagine what the area would look like if it were still underwater. She decided that if the water level had been higher, she might have recognized the butte, if not by name, at least by sight.
As the Mastercraft fell in line with the other boats, they again drifted almost to a complete stop. Paul flipped the boat's bumpers over the side and climbed back on the bow. A boat nudged the Mastercraft gently from behind.
Exhaust from so many boats in close proximity made it hard to breathe. Since the line wasn't moving at all, Greg shut off the engine. Many of the other boats followed. Within minutes of stopping, other boats filled in behind them until Julie could barely see water. Although they drifted slowly downstream, Julie was sure walking would have been faster.
They heard a radio squawk in an old red boat that had pulled up next to them. Julie and Greg's boat did not have a radio. There had been one in the houseboat, but they never used it because it did not work when they were in the canyons.
Greg motioned to a bearded man in the red boat. "What's happening on the radio?"
The bearded man with tattoos on both arms took a swig from a can of Coors. By the glazed look in his eyes, it wasn't his first. A woman stood up next to him, and although she didn't have a beer in her hand, she had the same lazy look in her eyes as the bearded man.
The man motioned downstream. "The CastleRockPass is officially closed. The water's already too low to get through to Wahweap".