There was no
store at Peach Springs, and they supplied us with the provisions that
we brought back. They drove a wagon for about half the distance, then
the roads became impassable, so they unhitched and packed their
bedding and our provisions in to the river. The Nelsons were anxious
to see us run a rapid or two.
We found the nights to be just as cold on top as they ever get in this
section--a little below zero--although the midday sun was warm enough
to melt the snow and make it slushy. I arrived at the river with my
feet so swollen that I had difficulty in walking, a condition brought
on by a previous freezing they had received, being wet continually by
the icy water in my boat--which was leaking badly since we left Bright
Angel--and the walk out through the slush. I was glad there was little
walking to do when once at the river, and changed my shoes for
arctics, which were more roomy and less painful.
On the upper part of our trip there were occasional days when Emery
was not feeling his best, while I had been most fortunate and had
little complaint to make; now things seemed to be reversed. Emery, and
Bert too, were having the time of their lives, while I was "getting
mine" in no small doses.[6]
We had always imagined that the Grand Canyon lost its depth and
impressiveness below Diamond Creek. We were to learn our mistake. The
colour was missing, that was true, for the marble and sandstone walls
were brown, dirty, or colourless, with few of the pleasing tones of
the canyon found in the upper end.
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