The Taos Box

Life has been super hectic lately so Jo and I decided to get away last weekend. We had the outdoors to ourselves because most of the world was working hard and staying home so they could go away on Memorial Day weekend - suckers! I was just coming off a head cold and Jo had been working all week, we were both exhausted and run ragged. After much thought and consideration we decided on Taos, New Mexico. It offered paddling, biking, and a different vibe than most of Colorado's high brow mountain towns. John was headed there from Albuquerque and invited us to raft and camp with him.

We didn't get headed south on I-25 until 8:00pm Friday night. Not wanting to push my luck with the cold we stopped after 3 hours for the night in Raton, NM. We were supposed to meet the Known River Guides rafting bus at 9:00am Saturday morning in Pilar, just south of Taos. We didn't make it to the rendezvous spot until 9:30 after being delayed by a huge POW / MIA motorcycle rally and a warning for speeding (I was only going 9 over). We spotted the Known River bus just as it was pulling out of the lot. John recognized my truck and made the driver pull over. I downshifted into second gear and broke the rear end allowing me to bust a drifting U turn across the two lane road. As I pulled up on the dirt next to the bus the doors opened and the driver yelled at us to "grab your shit and get the hell on the %$! dam bus!" I busted another drifting U turn to the parking lot and we made the quickest egress from a vehicle I've done since I crashed into a gasoline truck as a teenager. In the rush I left my camera, our food, and my dry top all of which I would miss later on. After the adrenaline wore off the entire bus shared a laugh at our dramatic entrance.

The Taos Box is an 17 mile stretch of class III and IV rapids on the Rio Grande river that runs through the 800 foot deep Rio Grande Gorge. The Rio Grande Gorge and Rio Grande Gorge Bridge is the dramatic canyon and arch bridge featured in the recently released movie Terminator Salvation. Once you enter the Box there is no way out, the canyon walls are so steep that even a helicopter evac is out of the question. The water isn't as big as the class V riddled Cheat River I usually do, but it was big enough. After dipping a neoprene booty covered foot into the freezing snow-melt fed water I decided that I did not want take a swim that day.

The Taos Box

Jo, John, and I put in in an 8 man boat with the rest of the ABQ crew. Stacy and I were in the front with John and Jo in the "swimmers slot" directly behind us. I've been rafting enough to know if a guide is good by the first rapid and after a few commands in an easy class II I felt confident that ours was dialed. The first half of the Box was pretty mellow with just a few Class III's between long stretches of flat water. The canyon was spectacular with dark lava rock walls that towered from the water's edge straight up to the sky. Lush sage and junipers populated even the narrowest of shelves in the walls with shades of green that can only be seen for a few short weeks in late spring. The desert is magical this time of year and we soaked it in as we drifted in the gentle water between rapids. It was a stark contrast to what lay ahead.

Our Boat

The Box

After about 3 miles the a strange linear shadow came into view. It started at the top of the west canyon wall and cascaded down the ledges towards the river as we drifted closer. It was the Rio Grande Gorge Bridge. A huge arch of white steel stretched from an apex of 650 feet down into the black canyon walls. I have been on top of the bridge before, but it was years earlier. Viewing the bridge from the bottom of the canyon, with the distant roar of rapids and occasional arctic water splash brought a realism to the scene worlds away from the sterile abstract view from the road deck. Just downstream of the bridge was Trash Rapid, a solid class III that was littered with junk, cars, and debris that has been thrown, crashed, or dropped off the road above over the years. The rapid itself wasn't anything spectacular, but our guide assured us that this was the least desirable place to take a swim on the river. Just under the surface was a mine field of tetanus filled rusty metal. As we passed under the bridge into the rapid I wedged my foot a little deeper under the side of the boat.

Trash Rapid from the Bridge

After Trash Rapid we stopped for lunch. I was cold and hungry from leaving my dry top and food during the quick vehicle egress, the latter was soon remedied by the the best food I've ever had on a river. Kudos to the guides for a gourmet lunch of peanut butter and apples, chips, and turkey sandwiches. After lunch the tone of the river changed dramatically. We entered what's called the Power Hour, which is a steady stream (no pun intended) of class IV's caused by much steeper drop in elevation per mile. The river was flowing at 3500 CFS (cubic feet per second), which made the Power Hour more of a power 45 minutes. An ancient F14 (jet in Top Gun) wreckage littered that the west canyon wall was a good metaphor of the carnage of the gravity (also no pun intended) of the canyon. One huge drop after another treated us to thrills and laughter. Each wave felt like a someone throwing a 5 gallon bucket of ice water on my head, but my fear and adrenalin kept me warm. After all my rafting and kayaking over the years I still get scared when I see a horizon line (indicating an upcoming drop) and hear the ominous deep rumble of a rapid on the river.

The Power Hour

Power Line Rapid was the last class IV of the Box. A huge cell that had been following us down the river had matured into full blown thunderstorm, so I was fine with getting off the river. At the takeout our efforts were rushed by lightning strikes getting closer and closer. The bus pulled up just in time. The ride back to the truck was short and the thunderstorm would later dump over 2 inches of gumball sized hail along a swath of New Mexico highway 64. It looked like fresh snow when we drove into to town later adding to the desert magic. The Box proved to be as epic as the rumors I've heard over the years. We had a strong boat with a good guide and no one took a swim, although both Jo and I made a few dives toward the middle of the boat.