Sixteen Days, Zero Bars, One Grand Adventure
Rafting the Grand Canyon, losing the signal, and finding my footing beyond my comfort zone.
On our first full day on the Colorado River, we lost cell service. I turned off my phone, tucked it into my river purse, and left it there. I didn’t turn it on again for several days. When I finally did, it was to take photos and videos.
For someone whose job is social storytelling, that was a fairly dramatic change of routine. I spend a lot of time on my phone, and both of my adult kids live far away. Being unreachable for more than two weeks felt a little panic-inducing at first.
But in June 2026, I had sixteen days to get used to it. Sixteen friends, five boats, and one kayak were making a private trip through the Grand Canyon, from Lees Ferry to Diamond Creek. There would be rapids, hikes, camp chores, and more sand than I sometimes wanted to deal with. There would also be mornings when I could write in my journal with no reason to check a screen.
This was a bucket-list trip for my husband. I was excited, too, but I could have been happy if the opportunity had never come up. He knew it would push me out of my comfort zone. He also became my biggest cheerleader.
The clock could wait
One of the strangest adjustments was not knowing what time it was. It took several days before that stopped bothering me. Then it started to feel freeing.
I woke with the sun, often before most of the group. After taking care of necessities, I’d return to my cot or tent to write in my journal. Eventually, there would be sounds from the camp kitchen, and the day’s work would begin: breakfast, dishes, packing, and loading the boats.
We stopped for lunch when the group was ready. Some days brought a hike, a waterfall, or an archaeological site. Others gave us time to enjoy wherever we’d landed. When we reached our planned camp, we unloaded, set up, cooked dinner, and cleaned up again. If people still had energy, we gathered to tell stories. Everyone drifted off as they got tired.
Camp setup and breakdown became second nature because we did them every day. That didn’t make the work disappear, especially in the heat. But our group knew how to pitch in. The more experienced rowers took the oars, some of us enjoyed preparing meals together, and everyone helped with cleanup.
After a long day, everything tasted good. Steak and cobbler night was a favorite. The steak cooked over charcoal coals, and the cobbler had its own name: “Hobbler,” because we ate enough to hobble off to bed afterward. I also brought my usual outdoor snack, Nerds Gummy Clusters. I expected the heat to turn them into one giant lump. Somehow, they held up, and they were a hit.
A nervous passenger meets the rapids
I had rafted with these friends before, but the Grand Canyon rapids were bigger than what I was used to. Some of our group had run the canyon at much higher water, and I’d been hearing their stories for years. By launch day, my imagination had done plenty of rowing of its own.
House Rock Rapid helped me settle down. It was big and technical, but our boatmen handled it well. The water was lower than on some of their previous trips, and I began to trust what I was seeing: an experienced group working its way through the river. Once we were through, I started looking forward to the next rapid.
That didn’t mean I stopped getting nervous. Crystal, Hermit, and Lava Falls still had my full attention. Prayer, mantras, and meditation helped before the bigger stretches and when the heat or sand started wearing me down.
Grapevine became my favorite rapid, even though it nearly introduced me to the river a little more personally. The raft lifted sharply on the right, my head skimmed the water, and I held on for dear life. We made it through. I had no plans to join the “Colorado River Swim Club.”
For the biggest rapid days, we had another source of reassurance: our “Lucky Lava” shirts. A friend had bought Lucky Brand shirts for all the women in honor of Lava Day. When every boat made it through Lava Falls without flipping, we had a big celebration.
The hardest part of the trip, though, happened away from the rapids. About halfway through, my husband had a serious reaction to a bite. We never knew whether a spider or a scorpion was responsible. His leg swelled, he felt sick, and I worried that we might need a medical evacuation. He improved over the next several days, and we had him checked as soon as we got home. That was a frightening stretch of an otherwise extraordinary trip.
The canyon between the whitewater
There was so much to take in while we floated. I photographed the canyon with my waterproof digital camera, read the river guidebook to see what was ahead, and talked with the people in my boat. We learned about one another while those enormous, vividly colored walls rose above us.
One of my favorite days was our stop at the Little Colorado River. The milky blue water against the red rocks was spectacular. We hiked upstream, then floated back down in our life jackets, doing it several times. I could have spent much longer there.
We saw California condors, including as we floated beneath Navajo Bridge. Their grace stayed with me. So did the chance to learn from the geologist in our group, who helped us understand the rock layers we were traveling through.
Before the trip, I had read Kevin Fedarko’s The Emerald Mile. I was looking forward to seeing pieces of river history, including Bert Loper’s abandoned boat and remnants associated with the proposed Marble Canyon Dam. Seeing those places in person added another layer to the experience.
On hikes, we also encountered archaeological sites and petroglyphs. I felt the privilege of traveling through the ancestral homelands of Native Nations whose connections to the canyon continue today.
We’d visited the Grand Canyon before, looking out from the rim and hiking rim to rim to rim. Seeing it from river level gave me another perspective. Neither the hiking nor the rafting was easy. I feel fortunate to have experienced both.
Gear for the river and beyond
Disclosure: Some products featured in this story were provided to Field Trip for review. The recommendations reflect Julie’s own experience and opinions.
When you pack and unpack your life every day, you notice what you keep reaching for. These are favorites from my Grand Canyon packing list, along with gear I recommend for similar outdoor adventures.
BRANWYN underwear and bras. I lived in these. They were comfortable, easy to wash, and quick to dry in the Grand Canyon heat. I also wore the bras as a swimsuit under my sun shirt. Of everything I brought, these were my favorite pieces of gear.
NOWATA Dry Shampoo. After a day on the river, this became part of my cleanup routine. I used it almost daily to freshen my hair when a shower wasn’t an option.
LITO leakproof tumbler. Morning coffee, evening wine or a cocktail: this cup did both jobs. It was easy to clean and easy to pack, which mattered when we were breaking down camp again the next morning.
Town Hall x BirdieBlue Snack Pack Fanny. It’s made for kids, but the compact size worked beautifully for my side hikes. It held my camera, sunscreen, snacks, and a small first-aid kit. I clipped my water bottle to the strap so my hands were free for climbing. The pack was lightweight and durable, and its upcycled ski and snow gear gave those materials another life.
Once I got comfortable sleeping in the open, I loved how much cooler it was and how quickly I could set up and pack away my sleeping spot. The tent got less use. Some nights, bats flying close overhead made it harder to sleep, but I still came to enjoy being out under the stars.
LITO compact folding chairs are another option for the packing list. Their small packed size appeals to me for trips and extra seating around our camper. Seat height is worth considering, too: how a chair fits the group can matter just as much as how it fits in a bag.
The Stio Hylas Hooded Pullover is a sun shirt I wear often. A sun shirt was an essential part of my river wardrobe, and this is one I recommend for similar adventures.
Ocean Bottle has become my favorite water bottle. I especially appreciate how easily it comes apart for a thorough cleaning. Daily bottle cleaning was part of our river routine, so that easy-to-clean design is high on my list for an outdoor adventure.
A different way to measure a day
By the time we reached Diamond Creek, I had grown used to a rhythm that had nothing to do with notifications: wake with the sun, help with breakfast, pack the boats, see what the river brought, and do it all again the next day.
There had been plenty of hard work, some real fear, and moments when I was tired of being hot and sandy. There had also been blue water against red rock, condors overhead, friends telling stories, and more laughter than I could capture in a photo.
I went in nervous about the rapids and being out of touch. Somewhere along the way, I began looking forward to the whitewater and stopped needing to know the time. I wouldn’t trade that experience for anything.
