Back in January when our young adults group leader was planning our activities for the year, I was excited and thought white water rafting would be fun. As it got closer I wasn't sure if I was going to be able to make it. Nervousness+lack of funds=not for me. But then things worked out and I was able to go. I tossed and turned all last night with nervous energy running through my veins. I did a lot of praying and asked for peace. On the way there and even at the check in, I was the one reassuring people that all would be fine.
I started to panic when our guide began giving us information on the trip itself. One of the most frequent signals you will see is the "get down" signal ... meaning hit the deck! That was warning number one. Warning number two came when he began giving instructions on what to do when you fall out of your raft:
Don't stand up.
Keep your feet and nose above the water.
Get back to your raft and grab the rope.
If you can't get to your raft, grab onto the front or back of a guide's kayak.
Boy am I glad I payed attention.
We came up on the second rapid. It's name is Cucumber due to the sent of the copper snakes extra skin that they shed during whichever season it is that they shed it. I'm in the front of our raft (mistake) and have my foot wedged as much as it could be. I'm gripping my paddle, rowing as hard as I can as I watch the white water sprinting closer and closer. Nosedive. The front tip of the raft hits the center of the rapid and water instantly begs me into its trap.
I feel myself falling backwards. Instantly my face is beneath the white water. My left foot is still wedged in the raft, but only for another second. The water calls me deeper beneath its surface. I'm rolling around; tossing and turning with the tantrum of the rapids. I don't know which way is up. My head bobs above the surface. I breathe as quick as I can before the water decides to pull me under again. Why am I still holding this stupid paddle?! I want to let go, but know I need to hang on to it. I hear my name and I know there are rocks nearby, but all I'm thinking is Jesus, help me! I'm dragged back underwater, my lungs still full of the force all around me. If only I were a fish, then I wouldn't be so desperately searching for the surface.
My head's above water one more time. I go to flip onto my stomach to try to swim, but the rapids are still calling my name. I remember the rule: Keep your nose and toes above the water. Well, I don't know about my toes, but I'm on my back and I can do nothing but pray that the water doesn't pull me back under for another spin.
"Hey! Hey!" A green kayak came into my view. In my desperation I managed to grab the handle on the front, but now what? I tried to swim with my paddled hand, but resorted once again to floating on my back. "Breathe! Breathe!" That means more water is coming. Quick breath. Too late. back under water, still holding tight to the kayak. Air hits my face again. "Breathe!" The water might have claimed me one more time, but I don't remember. I spewed water all the way to the shore and even after I was on the big rock begging for them to let me go back, be done, never have to face the water again.
They gave me the option, I could back out if I wanted to -- but there was also the lunch raft. One small four-man raft with a guide and the coolers inside. The guy knew what he was doing, could ride the rapids and insure no more swimming episodes. So either I get back on the water ... or I spend the next two hours sitting back at check in kicking myself for not trying again.
So, for the next two hours I chatted with Bob and enjoyed the lovely scenery and the occasional splash from the rapids who were wishing for another victim, thankfully too far out of reach.
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