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I went on vacation last week and, along with some friends and family, tried whitewater rafting. To say it was an unforgettable experience would be an understatement.
For the record, this was my second time trying whitewater rafting. We did it last year on vacation as well and it was memorable for very different reasons.
Last year was in Boone and, while on the river, we didn’t encounter any rapids they would grade more than class three. I should probably explain what that means.
I’m told a class one or two rapid is essentially like a tubing experience, class three rapids are for beginners, class four rapids are for advanced folks looking for adventure and class five rapids are for those experienced rafters prepared to meet their maker.
As noted above, my only experience was last year in a class three rapid. One member of our group had done class five rapids before, but she has less fear than melanin and she has very little melanin, so I don’t always trust her judgement. I love her dearly but her willingness to try something in no way equates to mine.
She talked the rest of us into trying whitewater rafting last year, and it really was a great time. The most dangerous part of the entire trip turned out to be the exploding engine on the bus which we encountered on the way to the launch point. It got brought up about a dozen times last week while discussing the previous trip.
Last year, I was learning about rafting, proper technique with the oar, enjoying the view and climbing out of the raft if you wanted to cool off and get wet.
This year, we had no such bus malfunction and the water provided us all the adventure we needed instead. This river had class four rapids.
The view was every bit as gorgeous as last year and with all the class three and four rapids, we didn’t have to get out to get wet.
That didn’t stop some of us from getting out of the raft anyway. The difference between last year and this one was that last year we climbed out and this year we were ejected.
The first person to fall out created the scariest experience. He can’t swim and, despite wearing a flotation vest, he hit the water and understandably panicked. Knowing now that he is OK, I would normally make fun of him, but I saw on his face how scared he was and I didn’t like it.
I was ejected rapidly from the raft moments after our only class four rapid. If not for a “teammate” in the raft, I would have been tossed in the rapid but she caught my foot. I thought I had been spared, but when we spun to join other rafters a few moments later near a rock, I fell out.
I think I handled it pretty well considering my foot was still stuck in the raft while the rest of my body was dangling out of the raft and in the water. I was using my hands to keep my head and body from crashing into the rock and trying not to take on water while asking those still in the boat to remove my foot before it broke.
My son, not wanting me to be alone in the water, came in after me. Thankfully our guide and team got him and I back in the raft and us back safely to our bus.
We had lots of excitement and got ourselves a story to recant for the reminder of our lives. In retrospect, we spent hundreds of dollars to see the mountains from a river and experience danger. It was fun, but that’s probably a spectator sport for me from now on.
I have now discovered tubing and have found it to be set more appropriately to my level of adventure.
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