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Show THE ZEPH YR/DECEMBER 2003-JANUARY 2004 This revelation took me by great surprise. I was utterly pissed. I had visions of the I had become concerned with his health as he was often in intense pain. His World War I injury kept plaguing him unmercifly. His days on the river were obviously numbered. And it was becoming more difficult for him to go it alone. So I asked him to join with me on some joint trips during this last river trip year in Glen Canyon, and besides I wanted to boat with him. He agreed to an arrangement. Interestingly, Edward Abbey had once inquired of Harry about a job as a boatman. Abbey in his letter described himself as “a sacred bottle being passed around in a toasting gentile fashion, in a civilized way, on the wedding day - not in a guzzling frenzy. I felt somewhat left out. tolerable camp cook, an excellent dishwasher, a fair First Aider, know a little about geology, biology and Major Powell, and can even play the harmonica.” Harry made one stipulation in our agreement, however; we would travel in separate boats - but on camping he would take care of the cooking and mess for the passengers he © carried, and I would do the same for mine. A contrast indeed - he on one end of the sand bar and I on the other. He cooked on a gas stove; I cooked over logs. He provided a table and seating; my folks squatted or sat in the sand. He served his people individually in courses at the table; I made mine dip out of the common pot. He cleaned the dishes himself; I had my folks clean their own. But in spite of this awkward arrangement, we continued with our plans. Trips were scheduled on Sept 2 and Sept 12 of 1962. We placed advertisements in Randal Henderson’‘s magazine, Desert Magazine. We had a fair response, and the trips went well. Harry had met attractive Dorothy Donaldson Keyes of Oceanside, California on one of his river trips the previous year. It was one of those “one and only" attractions. A romance developed and they decided to wed and honeymoon in Glen Canyon. Harry called the coming two-week wedding trip his "Farewell Trip to Glen Canyon.” Sep 30-Oct 13, 1962. Fare $300. He advertised the two-week trip in Desert Magazine. He had few takers and ended up with only a small group, Trip members included Bering and Barbara Monroe of San Bernardino, California and small Cathedral in the Desert. A thin ray of light entered the grotto, and peace and tranquility prevailed. It was indeed a beautiful cathedral in which to wed. The ceremony began with Bill expressing the right scriptural and prayer words, the right words of council, the best wishes and all of that. Then the words of the ceremony itself. Harry took the ring and slipped it on Dottie’s finger. The ring was made of Navajosilver and turquoise. The marriage was on time - at 10:00 a.m. Bering and Barbara Monroe served as their witnesses. We others stood to the side looking on. We again gave our congratulations and best wishes. Harry correctly reported that it was a real "moving experience." The bride and groom seemed very happy - like a couple of newly-married kids. We then hiked back to their camp. From my pack came Woody’s wine, a far cry from Bert’s whisky, and we toasted each other. I sauntered about looking for the empty Seagram 7 bottle in order to steal it. At least I’d gain a possible lingering whiff. But I couldn’t find the damn thing. Dock, I’m sure, already had the treasured artifact stashed away in his On schedule,I then took Bill and Nina back up river and walked with them back to the Cessna. I bid them adieu and saw them off. Hiking back to my boat, I was soon on the river. I picked up red-eyed Dock at the wedding camp and said goodby to the honeymoon party and headed downstream to Cane Creek. On our trip down, Dock asked me what I was going to do the following year. I told him I’d be taking very few trips from Hite anymore. We talked long about the history of the canyons. Dock had branded himself an expert in these sort of things. After Dock and I landed at Cane Creek on the 10th, after doing some camping and exploring enroute, Dock was able to get to the airport at Page as scheduled to meet his airlines connections. transportation to the wedding site and be out of the canyon soon after the wedding. Harry had told me of his plans. I told him I’d boat down, attend the wedding, and take Dock out. I would also pick up Bill Wells, the flying bishop of Hanksville at Halls Crossing. HARRY HAD ALSO TOLD ME THERE WOULD BE A SPECIAL SURPRISE AT THE WEDDING. BERT LOPER’S WHISKY WOULD BE BROUGHT OUT, WHICH HAD BEEN LAYING UNDER THE SEAT OF HIS DODGE POWER WAGON FOR YEARS. POSTSCRIPT Harry had also told me there would be a special surprise at the wedding. Bert Loper’s whisky would be brought out which had been laying under the seat of his Dodge Power Wagon for years. One must know the story to appreciate its full significance. Back in 1949, Harry made a momentous river journey through Grand Canyon with Bert Loper and other noted river people. During that trip Bert was swept from his boat and became lost to the river. On recovering the boat, Harry found a bottle of Seagrams 7 in it. After bringing the whisky out, he placed it under the seat of his Power Wagon for safe keeping. When I once asked him when he planned to open it, Harry told me it would be on a very special occasion. Surely, I expected to be invited at that occasion. The wedding party was on the river a week when I put on at Hite on October 6. My driver would pick me up at trip’s end at Cane Creek. I had two 10 HP motors (one a spare) with me on my own raft as I needed motor-power to hurry Dock out of the canyon when But for the present, I wasn’t hurrying. together a quarter of a mile up Little Eden Canyon to "The Chapel." There at the end of this narrow box canyon was a beautiful pool in a beautiful fern-covered grotto resembling a duffel. Edna Fridley of Brigham City, Utah. And Dock Marston would join if he could find I met him. Harry and Dottie retired to their tents to change to their wedding togs . Coming out, Dottie wore a tangerine-colored blouse, a long strand of coral beads, tangerine capri’s and white sweater and shoes. Harry wore tan slacks and a blue pull-over shirt with white trim at the collar with V-points at the bottom. My feelings of rejection lessened somewhat, I happily joined our party of nine, hiking As a postscript to that eventful trip: I continued taking boating trips in Glen Canyon and winter hiking trips in Escalante Canyon. I moved my family to the small town of Escalante to be nearer the canyons. I did set up a base camp in the lower Escalante. Harry boated on the reservoir with his newly acquired jet boat, taking my guests to Rainbow Bridge and return to the base camp. He and Dottie had moved to Teasdale, Utah. Harry was in and out of hospitals. Dottie was there with him all the way - and it was as Harry had said following their wedding, “Dorothy is the most wonderful wife any man can have." The Flying Bishop continued flying for us. The sly fox, Dock Marston, continued collecting historic accounts of the canyons and we corresponded for years. But I never saw the Seagram artifact again. And the wonderful, adventurous, and sometimes caustic Edna Fridley began tripping with me, taking over 40 varied trips on the rivers and into the canyons. (Her husband, Charles, making one trip in Escalante, continued making it possible for her to come and in turn helping me to continue my manner of living.) In the spring of 1972, I met with Harry at the Prescott hospital when he was very ill, extremely thin, and barely able to talk. We chatted again briefly of our many shared experiences. Harry died in Prescott, Arizona on March 27, 1972 - his final Farewell Trip. I rowed over to the left bank of the Colorado and walked up to Woody Edgel’s cabin in White Canyon. My friend Woody was the legendary operator of a contraption called the Hite Ferry. After we talked for some time and had a long night-cap, he drove me down to my boat. He gave mea bottle of wine to present to the wedding party for him and sent his best wishes. Shortly after midnight, I started down river. The stars were bright and the river was lovely, and I rowed and drifted most of the night. On arriving at Red Canyon, I pulled to the bank and walked up to Bert Loper’s old cabin to stretch my legs. The place looked most peaceful in the moonlight. Then I pushed off again and spent the daylight hours enjoying the river. As soon as men decide that all means are permitted to fight an evil, then their good becomes indistinguishable from the evil they set out to destroy. larrived at my destination, Hall’s Crossing, left bank, way after dark on the 7th. I sank into my sleeping bag and dozed off to wait for light. Early next morning, October 8, I found a note from Harry stuck in a stick suggesting that I go meet Bill Wells as he flew in. He gave me directions to the airstrip and marked the direction to the strip. He had even counted the exact paces, several hundred of them, to the strip. He had many such idiosyncracies. SoI did as I was directed except for counting the paces. (The note is lost in my archives somewhere.) I knew where the airstrip was and Harry knew that I knew it, but he gave me Christopher Dawson Oe? precise directions anyway. My route was the same route followed in 1882 by a Mormon wagon train. I hiked the mile to the top of the mesa and on arriving there found another note from Harry that was addressed to Bill welcoming him to Glen Canyon with directions to the river where he would meet me. At about 8:00 a.m., I heard the hum of Bill’s newly repaired Cessna. He made a good landing, and with him was Hanksville resident Nina Robison who came to join in the festivities and to write an article for the Deseret News. Bill was attired in his proper dark blue suit and polished shoes, hair combed, and all of that - typical of Mormon bishops who perform wedding ceremonies on a river. The three of us walked down to my mud-covered raft. 1 wiped a part of the tubes off for a clean sitting place for them. Then we boated down river a couple of miles to Harry and Dottie’s camp on the right bank of the river below Hall’s Creek. The happy six-person party was there to meet us. Five tents had been set up. The table and mess were correctly placed between them. I happily said hello to each guest, and chatted with red-eyed Dock Marston. He told me of the: great party they had enjoyed the night before at the very time I was sleeping across the river. He revealed to me that they had guzzled down Bert Loper’s whisky! Dock boasted of drinking his share of the historic beverage. Knowing Dock, I think he drank more than his share. PAGE 23 Orrice Equipment Company COMPLETE OFFICE OUTFITTERS 575 9. Kane Creek Blvd. Moab, 259.5575 FAX: 259.5594 UT Verizon Cellular Phone Service * Supplies * Furniture * Calculators Cash Registers & Copiers * Typewriters & Computers * Networking Software * Scrapbooking 4 |