Rafting Down the River–Part 2

Getting into the raft proved tricky enough, but once we were all in, I felt like we were set.  I handed the oars of the raft to our twelve year olds and relaxed  in the back of the raft.  Within a minute of launching, the raft turned 180 degrees and we were going backwards. 


I grabbed the oar from one of the boys and soon learned that I didn’t have any better control.  The oars came in handy only after we had run into a rock or tree—I’d use the oar to push off so that we could go to the other side of the river and run into yet another tree. 

I was so confused!  I had been on guided raft tours before, and we always stayed in the middle of the river.  Why weren’t we staying in the middle of the river now?  It wasn’t like we were trying to crash!  Why did I feel like we were in some kind of slow motion pin ball machine? 

Still, there was something very exciting about it all.  We really were on an adventure, and I’m not one to go on many adventures.  My heart was really pounding when we hit a thicket of twigs and sticks in the water—and I yelled at everybody, “DUCK!”  Everybody had to lie down in the raft to avoid getting speared by the twigs.  It was very exciting.  High stakes.  They could have made a movie out of it, it was that intense. 

 

At the end we approached a huge rock, sticking about fifteen feet out of the water, and it looked like we were going to run right smack into it.  “We’re going to hit the rock everybody!  Oh no!” I yelled.   A few teenagers, who were perched on the rock, looked at us with amusement.   

“Oh no!” I said more loudly.  “We are going to hit the rock!”  They just kept looking at us as if we were the most boring thing that had happened to them all day. 

Didn’t they get the hint?  Didn’t they see that we were on a serious collision course, and they needed to dive in and save us? 

“Oh no!”  I yelled a third time, now just a little bit peeved.  Just when I decided they were the most useless boys on the planet, one of them said, “You’re not going to hit the rock.”

“We’re not?!”  

“Nope.”  Turns out they were right.  The current changed and slid us right past it.  Still, I think it would have been nice if they came in and rescued us. 

The trip was so breathtakingly beautiful.  I even took my phone out of my Ziplog bag a few times to take pictures.  The little kids seemed to like the adventure, except for the parts where they were crying.

  Shirley was our little navigator, always leaning out the front of the boat—you can see the river was not so kind to her shorts. 

 

 

 

 
 
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2 comments

  1. Your nuts…glad you enjoyed it in the end…always take life jackets. A cop just drowned in a lake up here from not wearing a life jacket on a jet ski. Love the blog

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