The deeper into the Grand Canyon you get, the more you appreciate what a true wonder it is—and what a great adventure it offers. Alison Humes rides the Colorado River, where clues to an epic past combine with fears for the future

Audio Slideshow: Author Alison Humes tells further tales of rafting through the Grand Canyon

I have never been an outdoorsy person. Oh, I like walks in the woods, swimming in the Caribbean, and garden parties, but for me, the great outdoors is a scary place, with unpredictable insects and animals, prickly and slimy things, where I often feel too hot or too cold. But at an early age, my son Aidan became very interested in the idea and existence of the Four Corners, which led to a discussion of Arizona and the Grand Canyon; he wanted to go see it, and I promised him we would. As the mother of two boys, I find that spending time with them has become like an unrequited love affair. As they eagerly grow more autonomous, I work hard to outwit them by devising vacations together that will not only hold their interest but channel their abundant energy in a positive direction.

The Grand Canyon has been attracting tourists for just over a hundred years; it is the quintessential American family vacation, one of the Seven Natural Wonders of the World. The source of creation in the mythology of a number of Indian tribes, it was discovered and abandoned by Spanish explorers in the sixteenth century. John Wesley Powell, a one-armed geologist, finally put it on the map when he made his way down the Colorado River with eight other men in fast wooden rowboats in 1869. A visit to the Grand Canyon, the showstopper of the United States, is a true adventure all can enjoy. And this is as it should be: Teddy Roosevelt, the president who named the canyon a national monument in 1908, exhorted us, "Keep it for your children and your children's children, and for all who come after you, as one of the great sights which every American, if he can travel at all, must see."

There are many ways to explore the canyon. The South and North rims have very different styles (the South has a convenient village and nearby airport, several hotels, gift shops, and a range of restaurants; the North, cooler and greener, is more rustic, with cabins and fewer people). You can spend time along the South Rim going on ranger programs and taking the shuttle bus to all the various viewpoints, or you can backpack way off the beaten track, as far as you can walk and climb, where you will see no one. You can hike down to the bottom and back up, from one side to the other. You can ride a mule or fly over in a helicopter. You can run the Colorado River, which snakes through the bottom of the canyon, and its famous rapids—there are many different ways of doing that, too. You can take a motorized launch or raft, as sixty-five percent of those who travel the river do. If you're very lucky and/or persistent and patient, you can make the trip downriver on your own, paddling a big or little raft or a kayak. Or you can go in a dory with a commercial outfit like Grand Canyon Dories. The dories, delicate-looking double-ended flat-bottomed boats with high, flared sides, have a certain kind of magic about them. Each elegant seventeen-foot vessel is rowed by a boatman who maneuvers it to float over waves and dance in the water. This seems the closest approximation to what Powell himself did, although these boats are much smaller and more agile and comfortable than the ones he used. This is the experience that seems the most seductive: I won't have to row myself, but the rapids will be exciting and the noise will be natural.