-
Foreword
- Utah State University Press
- Chapter
- Additional Information
r;-he first time I met Georgie was in 1986 on my first Grand L- Canyon trip. I had heard of her, of course, having been a student of river history for a couple ofyears by then, but I didn't know her to see her. Not knowing what to do, and not wanting to get in the way as the crew rigged our boat, I walked down the ramp to where a huge pontoon raft was moored. I walked around it, marveling at the intricate lacework of ropes. Then I noticed, standing in the water on the other side, a little, wiry, gnome-like figure in a shapeless hat and leopard tights. She looked at me sharply and asked me my business. Just looking around, I told her; by now, even a first-trip canyon swamper could guess who she was. I said I was a historian interested in the river, and she warmed instantly. I spent the rest of the morning listening to yarn after yarn and finally had to tear myself away when my boat was ready to leave. After that first meeting I saw her almost every trip, either rigging her boat at Lee's Ferry (a three-day event that other boatmen would gather to watch) or holding court on the end ofher boat while her passengers hiked the popular trail at Deer Creek Falls. I was even lucky enough to catch her a couple of times with an empty spot in the motor well of her boat-usually crowded with other boatmen who wanted to meet her-where she would offer me one of her trademark Coors and give me cause to reflect that of such moments was a river historian's life made. The apotheosis of my experiences with Georgie, though, had to be at her eightieth birthday party at Hatchland-the Hatch River Expeditions warehouse near Lee's Ferry-in 1990. It was a night to be remembered; more fun, I reflected later, than anyone should if' have while a Republican is in the White House. The river community came together (a rare enough event in what is perforce a trade practiced by individuals and iconoclasts) and finally honored her as one of their own. There were those who worshiped her, those who abhorred her-all joined to celebrate her success, or at least to admit that she had endured in what they knew was a difficult but rewarding life. Georgie obviously made an impression on me; how much more so, then, did she impress those who came to know her well, for good or ill. For it would be disingenuous to say that being well known meant that she was equally well liked. Georgie was one of those Colorado River characters who, like her predecessor John Wesley Powell and her contemporary Otis "Dock" Marston, aroused great passions in the hearts of those who knew her. Thousands, from onetime passengers to long-term boatmen, loved her and are warmed by their memories of her. Many others, some guests, but more river professionals , felt equally strongly that her contribution was not positive -that she was indifferent to environmental concerns and passengers' safety. Suffice it to say all who met her can hardly fail to remember her, and mostly for doing what she was best at, being utterly and indubitably Georgie, the "Woman of the River." And if the impression she made on her fellow river rats was indelible, so too is her place in the history of the Colorado River, for Georgie not only made history, she changed it. Before her, women went down the river solely as passengers and even, in those less enlightened times, were made to walk around rapids since they were "the weaker sex." Georgie would have none of that; she wanted to run her own boat, and the opinions of the men on the river be damned. At the time she made her famous swim down the Grand Canyon with Harry Aleson, wooden boats patterned after Norm Nevills's cataract boats were the standard river craft in the Grand Canyon. They were stable and manueverable and all-around good boats but could only carry three passengers at most. Georgie, like many others just after World War II, took advantage of cheap surplus boats and createdafter a number of experiments, some more successful than othersher big boat, a mammoth contraption that could carry up to forty passengers at a time and plow through virtually any rapid. During the winters...