The River Wild

If you're a read of my sister's blog you already know one of the highlights of Strate-palooza was a rafting trip down the middle-fork of the Flathead river. (You can read her version of the trip here) Like her, many of you probably envision a rafting trip as a leisurely jaunt down a mountain stream, an opportunity to enjoy the scenic nature of the Rocky Mountains. You might expect to relax, talk with friends, or even engage in some friendly splashing contests with passing rafts.

Oh, how naive you all are.

What you people don't seem to realize is that a river-rafting trip is a like a courtship with death. The river is not a recreational medium, it is a deadly adversary full of jagged rocks, swirling pools, floating logs and other debris, and a series of rapids with frightening names like 'Bonecrusher', 'Toiletbowl', 'Jack-knife', and 'Manny'. One minute you're staring at an eagle's nest up in the trees, the next you're upside down in the water underneath your raft being choked by your own life-jacket.

We are only alive to tell his story because of the expertise and courage of Federico, our rafting guide. He spent the first twenty minutes of our three-hour tour impressing upon us that river-rafting was a dangerous business, a lot of hard work, and that at no time should we be enjoying ourselves. Knowing that our skill with the paddle could save our lives, Federico put us to work. We learned all the techniques...forward....back.....right-forward, left-back....right-southeast, left-north-by-northwest. By the end of the first hour we were qualified to row one of the great Roman galleons of the Punic Wars.

A fine judgement of character, Federico selected me to be co-captain of our tiny crew. (This is why you see me seated up front.) But sadly, not everyone in our party took his instructions as seriously as I did. One individual (for privacy's sake I'll call her 'chatty Angela') decided she didn't need any instructions and could spend the whole trip gabbing with the person next to her. In so doing, she showed blatant disregard for her own safety and the safety of the rest of us. After several stern warnings we had to throw her overboard.

Another passenger tried to start a mutiny aboard the vessel by refusing to listen to Federico, even arguing with him about rowing techniques and property boat safety. It was unfortunate that she jeopardized the safety of the entire crew with her poor attitude. It's this younger generation. Here's poor Federico, just trying to keep us alive. In addition to the plethora of natural hazards, he has to deal with the passengers who don't take that river seriously. Thankfully, she and Federico later reconciled, and by the end of the trip I think she even asked for his phone number.

Despite these setbacks we made it safely down the river with only minor casualties. Jake lost his paddle at one point and had to swim for it. It was an incredibly hot day, so many of us took advantage of a slow spot to jump in. That's when we got to meet Mr. Hypothermia. I realize that successive years in Thailand and Hawaii have compromised my ability to deal with cold temperatue, but I swear this was the coldest water I have ever known. Thankfully, Kaddi pulled me from the glacial torrent before the river claimed me as its own.

No, I can't say we enjoyed our time on the river. But we did survive.

Over-sized Life-Jacket says "Forget the dangerous rapids everyone - it's a camera!"