Cahulawassee River. A fictitious river in Georgia but I swear that's where I was yesterday...
I wasn't in Georgia but I sure was way the hell up in bumfuck Maine about 20 miles from the Canadian border white water rafting where their most adored entertainment is jumping off a bridge into the Kennebec River. No thanks. Every year I go on a trip with a local radio station hoping to get my adrenaline fix in for the year. I guess you got to know the right people because every year I'm asked to go or I legitimately win the trip. Hopefully that means I'm good company...or I buy too many rounds. Along on the trip are about 30 radio station listeners and you know how there's always one in the crowd who leaves that permanent stamp on the trip? That person who the DJ's rag on for years after? Well, this year it was the Joe Pesci clone-a-like. Now, I'm not particularly fond of Joe Pesci nor do I think he's even a titty bit funny (which may explain my rising level of irritation throughout the 2 days) but this guy sounded just like him whenever he opened his mouth...which was too often. Sort of like an annoying Fran Drescher voice or nails on a chalkboard. But not only did he talk often, he talked loud. He doesn't need a microphone. He doesn't need a megaphone. He's loud. You know those people...the ones who want everyone to know what they're saying? I may be just a wee bit cranky pants lately but it's really a good thing that I didn't have my fluorescent duct tape with me because after the first twenty minutes of having to listen to him because he was sitting right behind me on the bus, I was ready to rip off just enough duct tape to be able to wad it up into a jumbo ball that would perfectly fit into his mouth, then duct tape his mouth shut, then his hands, then his feet and then throw him under the bus with the luggage. *sigh* It's a good thing I brought alcohol on that bus...unfortunately, he did too which made him even louder.
Typically it takes about 5 1/2 hours on the bus to get to The Forks, Maine which is where the rafting company resides. We leave at 8am Sunday morning, beers cracked at 8:01, get to CrabApple between 3 and 4 and then we're free to do whatever for the rest of the day. Then Monday morning we raft, have our cookout, look at our video and pictures, then back on the bus for another 5 1/2 hours home. It's an exhausting trip and I'm not as young as I used to be but it's free and fun. Since there's really nothing but moose up in that area, the only thing to do is drink at the bar. So that's what I did...that's what we all did. It's always a late night and there's always a few people who don't make it on the river the next day because they're busy puking in their rooms. They're missing out because they obviously don't realize that the first rapid you hit, you're immediately cured of any hangover.
Anyway, we get on the river and I'm at the front of the raft setting the pace. We hit the first rapid (hangover gone) and it's incredible! What was supposed to only be 4500 cfs (cubic feet of water per second) ended up being 6500 cfs for the day. This is a great flow to ride and the day did not prove that wrong! However, when the guide tells everyone to listen up because the next rapid today will be brutal. Well, then you listen up. And as he proceeds to tell us how we'll enter the rapid (sideways) and everyone will need to HOLD ON instead of paddling through it because the raft will most likely stop suddenly if we hit it just right, I start to get nervous. If that's not enough..."Oh and Brenda, this will most likely affect (effect? I can never remember) you so it would be great if you could make an extra effort to stay in the boat". Uhmmmm...anyone wanna switch places with me please??? Jesus save me now because I'm stuck here in this spot and I have fallen out before...it's not fun. As everyone pats me on the back wishing me luck, I decide to buck up little lady and take it like a beast. It happened just like he said. We hit the rapid sideways (on the side opposite me), everyone held on, the boat stopped short just like it hit a wall, everyone on my side of the boat got thrown to the other side but I was so worried about crushing the person next to me that I used every bit of strength I had to not fly into him which, looking back, was probably the defining factor that led to my fate. Because all the weight was on the other side of the boat except for me, I went flying out of the boat into the water still holding on to the rope, the paddle and my hat. I tried to hold on but the current was so strong that if I didn't let go, I would have ripped my arm right out of the socket. So I reluctantly let go. It's funny, you think that if you're going through rapids that you'll pleasantly roll up the top of each wave and come down gingerly on the other side. Well it doesn't happen that way, folks. You pretty much crash through the middle of each wave and you have to make sure you have the sense to time your breathing because the rapids come at you fast! Anyway, I tried to remember all the safety tips in the safety lecture from the morning but when panic sets in, it's hard to focus. I was in the last raft of the day and all of the other rafts had already pulled over to make sure everyone made it through the rapid. There's me in the water with my feet forward, timing my breathing going down the middle of the river feeling like I'm the prize at an auction and everyone's watching and bidding on my survival. Past 1 boat, past the second boat. Rescue bags being thrown my way but I can't see because I'm either in the middle of a wave swallowing a few fish or I'm wiping whitewater from my face. Past the third boat... Now because I pay such close attention to detail, I know how many boats were ahead of us so I have a pretty good idea of when my last option for rescue has arrived. And here it comes...the first boat in our crew. Then I panic. If I don't catch this rescue bag, I'll be washed up on shore way down the river surely to end up smack dab in the middle of a scene from Deliverance. I think I can already hear the dualing banjos.... I quickly get my senses back and watch as the guide throws me the bag from his boat. If I don't catch this bag, I'm screwed because it's a long ride down the river even at 6500 cfs and there are still some monster rapids left! I don't want to go through those rapids on my back! There's 75 feet of rope in the bag so even if I don't grab the rope, I have to at least grab that bag! How hard can it be, right? Well, it's hard when your panicking. I missed the rope because I was going too fast but luckily, the bag was tossed slightly past me and I was able to grab it. Ok now, 75 feet of rope has to come to an end. I can't grab the rope yet because I'll burn my hands so soon, I need to prepare myself for a massive jerk. And....there it is. I thought my arms would be ripped out of my sockets! That poor guide. His workout for the day is done because I'm sure pulling a 135lb woman 75 feet against the current isn't an easy task but that's what they train for, right? Maybe he deserves a tip for saving me. :)
All of this still holding on to my paddle and also managing to keep my hat on and my contacts in! What seemed like an hour in the drink was really only about a 2 minutes. It's amazing how much shit goes through your head in that short amount of time! I believe my adrenaline quota has been met!
