It was early when we stumbled out of our tent to see a raft appearing on the river, followed by a few others. They were headed our way.

Grand Canyon Park personnel were the only ones on board. The first guy that paddles up asks Caroline to hold onto his raft a moment while he tends to something or other; according to him, Caroline is now an “honorary boat wrangler.” They’d been upriver dropping off some people to work on trails and were ending their winter rafting trip here at Diamond Creek, which turns out to be one of the main take-outs for people on river trips through the Canyon.

A couple of people in trucks showed up to help these rafters return to civilization, and so while they busied themselves, we tried to hide over here behind a rock and blade of grass, acting casual and not trying to be up in their business although we were curious as hell about every aspect of what they had just been doing and how they go about leaving the river.

With the last raft pulling up to shore, the job of removing all the gear and then deflating and washing the rafts got underway. I don’t think they needed more than an hour to go from river to truck bed and head up the dusty road.

Shortly after the park personnel left, Lisa and Daniel left, too. But we are not alone; some bighorn sheep have come down to check us out and get a drink.

This small ripple of a rapid and a larger one around the corner further down the river has the soundtrack serenading our stay.

Well, this looks a lot different to us from our arrival late yesterday afternoon. We are happy to sit here and watch the wispy clouds go by. With the sun on us, it’s nice and warm compared to the slight chill from earlier, but then again, it is January, and up on the rim, it is freezing.

While we are not going anywhere else, we watch the world exist where there is much to find here and many things to explore while contemplating the entire system at work.

Another group of boaters is arriving – that was until they didn’t head for shore but instead just paddled by.

We were expecting to find desert down here, and sure enough, there is plenty of that, but with all this water, there is also another living universe existing in parallel and probably symbiotically with the larger arid environment.

I thought we might get bored just hanging out next to the river’s edge, but instead, we continued to see new things we’d not seen at first glance. Maybe our eyes came in looking to see routine and quickly accommodate our expectations of only seeing the surface of things, but the longer we are here, the more there is to see.

Another couple joined us riverside later this evening and a ranger from the Hualapai Tribe up in Peach Springs came in to check our permits; good thing we had dealt with that beforehand. A couple of other cars came to check out the view but left shortly after a quick look. With an ouch, we realize that the deer flies leave ugly and annoying bite marks; at least they’re not mosquitoes with their pesky whining sound. On second thought, I hate deer flies and would appreciate some mosquitoes instead.

Our campfire works to cook up our hot dogs, and we go into the evening much as we did the night before.

World-famous Delgadillo’s Snow Cap Drive-In is a landmark on Route 66, and today, we were lucky enough to visit this historic corner of Americana in Seligman, Arizona.

We got to meet the 85-year-old owner, Juan Delgadillo, who played a few gags on us with straws and various other paraphernalia before his son took our order. We’d already heard that this was the place for a chocolate malted shake, and that’s just what we got along with a burger and some onion rings.

The reason we were out here on the Mother Road “Route 66” is that we are stopping in Peach Springs on the Hualapai reservation for a camping permit before we head up the old rutted dirt road to the Diamond Creek campground on the Colorado River.

We’ve arrived at the Colorado River in the Grand Canyon, where Diamond Creek enters the river, and as we can’t afford to raft the river yet, we’ll have to content ourselves with sleeping next to it for a couple of days. Caroline had learned about this remote place and the only one where you can practically drive into the Grand Canyon while we were doing research for ScenicPath. ScenicPath was an effort from the two of us to build a travel app that would share some of the knowledge we’ve gleaned since starting this effort to travel so much.

The perspective down here is so very different from looking down at the river from one of the rims of the Canyon. We have no real plan, haven’t learned if there are nearby trails, or even know if we’ll stay through tomorrow.

It’s peaceful and quiet here, with just the sound of the river going by. Nobody else has set up camp or driven down here for a look at the river. Seems like we’ll be here alone tonight. Just as we were thinking that, a couple came driving down the dusty road. Lisa and Daniel were down here to camp for the night, too. We chatted a bit regarding their ambition to see a chunk of America before embarking on a journey somewhere in Asia to teach English as a second language and extend their time seeing the world before settling down. We exchanged emails before separating to allow each other to bask in the solitude.

Just before it starts getting dark, we get one last burst of color in the sky. We’ve walked around camp and the creek while watching how the changing light alters the appearance of the canyon walls.

Our tent, which is altogether too big for two people, is set up, and with the fire going, we took up sitting on a nearby rock for some dinner and stared into the flames as the constant sound of the river kept us company. Dinner was hot dogs for me and soy dogs for Caroline. We had brought firewood down here to the river in case there wasn’t any driftwood, good thing we did. We’d also purchased a long fork to cook the wieners on and with it, Caroline attempted to bake biscuits using it, with little success.