Surfing Isn't Always Good

A couple weeks ago I went rafting on the Wenatchee. I mentioned my anxieties but never mentioned the results.

Trip #1 -- This trip was a donor/volunteer appreciation trip, so everyone on it was either a donor or volunteer. Four rafts were slated to go. I opted to go with Jon in his raft -- after all, I trust him with my life. We had a pretty good time taking the lead. But one raft sprung a leak. It had gone over some rocks that put some holes in the boat. As a result it was losing air and needed to be patched. We eddied out while they tried to fix it. Eventually it was fixed. Back on the river we continued down the rapids. Our boat made it through them all just fine. One boat dumped everyone at a rapid called Rodeo. I was grateful not to be in that boat. The trip ended without any other flips.

After lunch we all hung out. Relaxing. Jon went back to camp to switch out rafts. They had a second trip that afternoon with a group. The group only had 12 people, enough for 2 rafts, so some staff and volunteers, including myself, took a 3rd boat while others took inflatable kayaks.

Trip #2 -- In my boat were 2 guides, one of the guide's wife, a friend of the other guide, and me. Five people in all. We took the lead and everything went OK for the most part. I got a chance to "ride the bronco" through rapids known as Snow Blind. Before the rapid I slipped and fell in. I got back in and back up front in time for the rapids. It was a lot of fun! We each took turns riding the bronco. Jerry, the friend, was up next. He was going to ride it through Grannies. The other 4 of us started paddling, getting set up perfectly for the wave.

We went up the wave, paused (not having enough power to get over), and got pulled back down it and turned sideways. We were now surfing the wave sideways. This was not a good situation. We weren't going anywhere. Just sitting there. Waiting. Waiting for the wave to catch us and flip us. I looked to the left just in time to see the raft coming up. "It's going to flip," I thought. And "I hope it doesn't land on me." Fortunately it didn't hit me. However, I was dumped in the water.

I clung to my paddle with the line "your paddle is your ticket back into the boat" drilled in my head. I was still submerged in water feeling like I was being churned around like butter. The instructions "make yourself really big" played over and over again in my head. I reached as far as I could, feeling the current at my fingertips. I was still being churned. I was running out of breath. I needed to get out of the water and get a breath of air. "I'm going to die here," I thought, instantly thinking of Jon and how this might affect him. It scared me. Still reaching out the current caught me and pulled me up. I broke the surface gasping for air. One quick breath and I was plunged under water again by another wave. Up again I tried getting another breath only to be hit by a wave resulting in more water inhaled than air. I tried getting to the boat only to be hit by one wave after another. I was panicking. I was terrified. "I'm not going to make it" kept running through my head.

Finally I grabbed the front of the boat, not the ideal place. I tried going around to the side but had no energy or courage to let go. One of the guides saw me and asked if I was OK. "No," I quietly responded while coughing up more and more water. Finally someone pulled me into the boat. Everyone else was there. I still had my paddle. One guide had his. We had to paddle quickly to get to the take out. The kayakers had the best view. They saw us approach the wave, saw us sideways, and knew that it would be a matter of time. They saw us flip. Paddles going everywhere. Fortunately they were there to gather the paddles. One of our kayakers brought over the other paddles. We paddled hard to get to the take out. I paddled though mentally I had checked out. We carried our raft up the ramp. How I had the strength to lift it I have no idea.

Once the raft was set down the events that just occurred flashed through my mind. I saw myself on the boat, in the water, running out of air, being hit by wave after wave, gasping for air, scared out of my mind. I saw Jon and went up to him. He wrapped me in a hug and let me talk as tears came to my eyes. I told him how I felt and what went through my mind. He let me cry on his shoulder briefly, though not as much as I needed to.

I couldn't get my wet suit off. I didn't have the strength. I asked Jon for help. Once changed the adrenaline wouldn't go away. My hands kept shaking. I couldn't hold still. I tried putting on a brave face, knowing deep inside how shaken up I was. Eventually it wore off and I was able to relax.

That night I lay in the tent with Job. I told him again what I went through (even though he had seen my boat dump) and the thoughts I thought and the emotions I felt. I broke down and just cried on his shoulder. Tears flowed out unchecked while he held me close whispering words of love and comfort in my ear.

A week and a half later the events of that second trip are still fresh in my mind. I see us surfing the wave. I see the raft on the left coming up to dump us. I feel the churning waters and the current at my fingertips. The same thoughts flood my head. I feel the continual hit of the wave train. I feel myself being limply pulled into the boat. I see myself paddling once again and the lack of strength I had. I see myself feebly carrying the boat up the ramp. Lastly, I see me hugging Jon as he tells me everything is OK and that he loves me.