Dinosaur National Monument – Page 3 – Dinosaur River Expeditions

Colorado’s Yampa River Archaeology

Posted on March 29, 2018 at 8:50 am.

Yampa River and its Archaeology: Atlantis of the Desert

Travel back 1400 years when taking a Yampa River raft trip and seeing its amazing archaeology. Imagine that you are walking up and down a river bed gathering food, storing it in a shady cave along with sacred necklaces made from feathers of birds collected thousands of miles from where you are now. You carefully place your fortune of corn, beans and collected berries in a rock box knowing that you will return to this place, turn the corn into flour and retrieve the necklace.

This is a real place, as are its people the Fremont culture. It’s called Mantle cave and is located about a half mile from the banks of the Yampa River in Dinosaur National Monument. The cave is enormous, 25 yards deep and 300 yards long, shaded almost year-round making it the perfect place for food storage and escaping the weather extremes of Northwest Colorado’s summer heat, spring and fall’s cold. When archaeologist’s first excavated the cave, they found granaries (food storage boxes) full of corn, grinding stones, headdresses and necklaces made from bird feathers founds in South America, beaded shoes and much more.

Mantles Cave is a popular stop along the Yampa River, other stops will lead you to petroglyphs and pictographs, rock art left behind from the early cultures that inhabited the Yampa River Canyon. The Native American rock artwork is identified by it simple boxy shapes. Human figures drawn from tetrahedral bodies, swirls, etchings of big horns sheep, fishing nets, and many more representations of the prehistoric life in the canyon decorate the creamy sandstone walls, beautiful in its simplicity.

Though there is no certainty with the Fremont, theories exist regarding the artwork: that some works are more significant than others, that only elders were permitted to paint the canyon, the painting could have been some kind of ceremony asking for good fortune or advice from ancestors or gods. Or simply entertainment for children, though this last theory, seems unlikely. The panels throughout the canyon appear to be aimed towards purposes. Simple sketches of sheep and fish may indicate good food sources. Another, more intricate panel, nicknamed the wedding panel, is six human height figures holding hands which could have been used for a bonding ceremony. Another, appears to be 20 warriors preparing for battle created from tiny dots, archaeologist believe this panel was likely made by elders asking for blessings or help from gods.

Whatever the Fremont tribe intended with the art work and the way they lived, the mystery is captivating and beautiful. The tribe prospered in this seemingly harsh environment for almost 700 years and then suddenly gone. The remains of the desert Atlantis is worth seeing for yourself.

It’s natural to wonder what the drawings mean: Is the artwork religious, entertainment, markings to remember the way back? Why spend the time to create a paint that would last thousands of years? Why paint the figures they did? The answer: no idea.

Suddenly, 700 years ago, all evidence of the Fremont culture disappears. Many things could have wiped out the community: flood, famine, drought, or competition from another tribe, all theories that circulate among archaeologists today. However, the facts remain a mystery, as no currently living tribe claims the Fremont as their ancestors. Archaeologist’s infer certain things about the way their cultures lived based on the artifacts they left behind, that they were semi-nomadic farmers. Based on the presence of corn in the granaries, the tribe farmed and the tribe moved with the seasons, based on the spread of their artwork throughout the South West, and the feathers integrated into their clothing from South American birds.

The ability to visit these cultural sites along the Yampa River and Green River through Dinosaur National Monument is just one of the fabulous experiences you will have on a multi-day rafting trip when visiting this area of Utah and Colorado. These sites are very important and deserve the up most respect and protection. White water river rafting on the Yampa River may have been your initial reason for booking this adventure. When your trip ends the memories of the incredible archaeology, great times around the evenings campfire, the new friends you have made will forever be etched in your mind.

Thank You

Posted on March 17, 2018 at 9:21 am.

Written by Dinosaur River Expeditions

Thank you seems to small.

Only eight letters to express the rivers of gratitude to each of you. It’s laughable that eight would be enough, for without you our lives as river guides would be undeniably different. Let me explain.

Each of you that travels down the river, allows us to live and breathe in this amazing national monument. To feel the tug of flowing water on oars every day, to smell like sunscreen and sweat for months on end, and gasp at desert vistas in every moment. By coming on a river trip you allow us to live the way we wish to live. But more importantly you allow us to feel that we are bigger than ourselves, a part of a history in Dinosaur National Monument while guiding on the Green River and Yampa River.

Each of us become a river guide for a shallow reason, something like: we went on fun vacations with our family as kids, whitewater is a thrill, or even just the novelty of being a river guide. Every guide will admit it, but the reason we stay river guides is because of you. As guides grow more sun crusted we learn more about the river and its surroundings; where different petroglyphs are, who the first person to raft the river solo was, where a dam was almost built and how it was stopped, and the story of the Powell expeditions first trip.

Without knowing it, each time we repeat these stories and facts to you, they become part of our personal history. None of us were on the Powell expedition boating down the Green River Gates of Lodore, but somehow that expedition is as much a part of my history as riding bikes with my brother as a child. Each time we share the river rafting experience of Dinosaur National Monument with you, it becomes our home and its characters our family.

As time goes on, we make our own history: a upside down boat used as a slip ’n slide at Wild Mountain campsite, a guest that cried because they were so grateful to have their family together, a kid dance party on the boat on the windiest day of the summer. And as John Wesley Powell did, you become part of who we are, a character of the river and part of our family. For you, this river trip may be once in a lifetime, but for us, this trip is life, and you are the reason for it.

Thank you for allowing us to create a home and a family here. Thank you for allowing us to love our fellow guides and bosses like we do our own parents and families. Thanks to our families for supporting our unconventional career choices and understanding that the reason we are here, is to connect with a deeper part of ourselves, to become droplets in a massive river system. Thank you for allowing us to feel simultaneously insignificant and vitality important to the universe.

Thank you for letting us share our home and family with you.

In return for completely changing our lives and the way we view ourselves, we give you eight letters. Not nearly enough, but perhaps you will feel that the eight letters we give you, are bigger and so much more important than just letters.

Thank you.

The Dinosaur River Expedition Guides

When you do

Things from

Your soul.

You feel a

River moving

In you, a joy.

-Rumi

Green River Gates of Lodore White Water Dory Trip

Posted on June 11, 2017 at 7:29 am.

Written by Dinosaur River Expeditions

Lodories

Author: Brad Dimock

It was another in a long series of preposterous ideas pursued by Dory Moon Expeditions. The Canyon of Lodore–the steepest, rockiest stretch of the Green and Colorado–in wooden dories full of gear and people. A stretch of water usually so desiccated by Flaming Gorge Dam’s paltry releases that it is all but impassable to hard-hulled boats. We tried it once in 1991, gambling on the annual Memorial Day (-ish) fishery releases, but lost the bet and had to switch to rafts and rumble through on under 1,000 cfs. We tried again in 1995 and won, rowing dories through on a falling release of about 3,500 cfs with only minor damage. But we hadn’t had the nerve to try it again in over two decades.

With several of our core dory crew now in our sixties (we like to call ourselves sexagenarians), we figured there’s not much time to left to do goofy things. So after last year’s wacky Rogue River dory trip’s success (we only crashed three or four boats), we held our breath and gambled on another Memorial Day release, hoping for at least 2,500 cfs to bash our way through.

Imagine our surprise and delight to see the Upper Green River Basin fill to over 250% of normal snowpack over the winter, and find the river running at nearly maximum release throughout the spring. Jackpot.

I headed north, picked up Coop and his dory in Dolores, and headed for Dinosaur. Coming over Douglass Pass we were astonished to see an enormous cinnamon-colored bear tumble into the road, regain his composure, and scramble up the embankment back into the forest. A good omen no doubt. As we neared our goal and the evening light grew richer, we stopped to soak in the glory.

Green River Gates of Lodore White Water Dory Trip — Blue Mountain and whitewater dory boats.

We found Andy and Kate and two more dories doing the same. RJ and Bruce, coming in from other directions, soon joined the sunset party.

The next day at Dinosaur River Expeditions we sidled the top boats over for loading.

Whitewater dory boats at the Dinosaur River Expeditions boat yard.

And the following morning drove to Flaming Gorge Dam, bursting with the water we had so been looking forward to getting. The gage held steady through our trip at over 7,000 cfs. Woohoo!

And away we go. Eighteen innocent clients (well, kind of innocent), six dories, and three rafts full of extraneous gear.

Down through Red Canyon.

A side hike up to Shorty Burton’s old cabin. A log has fallen on hole #2 of his double outhouse.

And the main cabin could use a bit of maintenance.

Camp at Red Creek–such a spectacular place. A wind storm and rain welcome us to the wilds.

Overnight Red Creek went into flood upstream, giving us a two-tone river. The good news is that Bruce, unlike the last two times we camped here, did not have a malarial attack. I think it was because of the large quantities of preventative quinine water and juniper juice we drank that evening.

At Taylor Flat, the old low bridge was finally blown away by the high water of 1983. So what did they do? Replaced it with another low bridge–too low to get the dories under at this high flow. Out come the roller tubes.

After careful measuring, we lined the rafts beneath the bridge with four inches to spare. As a reward, the bridge grew us a tasty morel for an appetizer.

We were back afloat in under two hours, but with a headwind and a long haul across Brown’s Park ahead of us. Here is the old Swinging Bridge. It was always a thrill to drive across as it swung and rippled. You always wondered if it would hold. (Like Amil Quayle’s poem, Stairways–“It feels risky and nice. I’m sure it’ll collapse someday. Somebody might get hurt. I always wonder if this will be the time.”) Well, a few years ago a tractor got the booby prize, and the bridge was formally closed to vehicles. The remains tell the story.

A beautiful evening at Crook Camp.

Best cook crew ever.

Lodore School–a remnant of more populous times.

And the Gates of Lodore open to accept us–one of the more amazing views on any river trip. We’re going in there?

Scouting Disaster Falls, where Major Powell lost the No Name. It goes on and on.

Go that way. But watch out for that.

The mid-section of Disaster was completely huge, but we all bounced through. Camp at Pot Creek.

Leah finds a friend.

Morning story time. We each tell the intertwined sagas of our dories’ lives.

Harp Falls rocks and rolls.

Triplet Falls. More scouting as ice balls fall from the sky.

Melissa shows us the way, pausing to blow us a kiss half way through.

And finally, the crux move. Hell’s Half Mile. So well named. Routinely portaged at great labor until 1922 when Bert Loper said “to hell with it!” and ran it. Fast, powerful, studded with boulders and logs, and endless. A long, busy, difficult run.

The raftsmen show us the way, and Bruce tries to convince us it works for a dory. Wowzers.

And we make it through with only one minor flesh wound. A late but exuberant lunch at Rippling Brook and a walk to the falls.

Evening festivities at Wild Mountain.

A morning hike to a vista above Alcove Brook.

Limestone hike overlook, Green River Gates of Lodore

And Lodore comes to a dramatic end as we hit the Mitten Park Fault and enter Echo Park.

A visit to one of Pat Lynch’s monogrammed caves.

Cooling off in Whispering Cave.

Kate’s sore knee hitchhiking back to the boats.

Steamboat Rock. It would have been a wee island in a large reservoir but for David Brower and Martin Litton’s leadership in defeating Echo Park Dam. Thanks again, guys.

Lunch on the backside of the Mitten Park Fault.

Geology class.

What is RJ looking at?

The Denis Julien inscription. A trapper who plied the Green back in the 1830s.

Evening light at Stateline Camp. We are cautiously optimistic about this voyage. Okay, not that cautious.

Inventing our own parking lot at Jone’s Hole.

While the others hike the creek, I celebrate four years of ukulele abuse under the tree where I first laid hands on one.

We exit Whirlpool Canyon into Island Park. The bison on the wall is there to welcome us.

So are the mosquitoes. They are drilling through Carhartts in this shot.

But the sunset is marvelous.

Marching through the cheatgrass to the Wedding Panel.

Amazing petroglyphs accessible by a scary climb or via sensible binoculars.

Entering Split Mountain Canyon, the final gauntlet.

After a raucous ride through Moonshine, SOB, and Schoolboy Rapids, we stop for lunch. So do the bighorn ewes.

After cutting into Split Mountain, the river parallels the mountain crest, then turns to cut out the far side.

At Split Mountain boat ramp, where most people, eyes looking downward, scurry to pack their boats away and leave, we camp and admire the uncommon beauty.

We spend one final morning cruising the Big W–a winding stretch of river below Split Mountain that offers magnificent views of the cliffs we just exited.

And life-size petroglyphs.

And lichen art.

As we turn south into the gray Mancos Shale, our passengers depart and we push the remaining six miles to Jensen Bridge.

Against odds, the ancient mariners made it through again. We’ll be back in another twenty-two years.

Thanks to Tyler and Jen Callantine of Dinosaur River Expeditions for supporting this madness. And our support crew: Brett Smith, Sweet Melissa Frogh, and young Jacoby. And our stalwart dorymen Andy Hutchinson, Kate Thompson, RJ Johnson, Tim Cooper, Bruce Keller, and myself.