National Geographic : 1962 Apr
River Runners Stop for a Swim in the Little Colorado's Blue In this quiet lagoon the muddy main torrent meets the clear stream of its tributary. Swimmers started one of No. 21's twin engines and gamboled in its jet stream. On this early trip they drove downstream to cache fuel for the main assault. Two scow-bowed boats on the beach, together with two 18-footers, made the down-rapids run because they could haul more supplies. Centuries of rain, frost, and sand laden winds sculptured the nameless rock castle on the skyline. The river's hard knocks dictate dinner dress. Edward I'Anson's medi cal cummerbund holds cracked ribs in place. Dock Marston's bra soothes strained shoulder muscles. Foot-written "OK" in the sand tells rim watchers that all is well. Jon Hamilton darkens the "0" with wa ter. Wee Red, which survived both downriver and return voyages, gets a bottom patch. Here, far below Toroweap Over look, the Colorado runs quiet, "too thick to drink, too thin to plow."