Friday, July 20, 2012

White Water Rafting, A Short Story

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July 20th, 2012

Down the stream we go, on our boat, into the white-water rapids. The view is spectacular, but soon, it will be washed away once the rapids take command and demand our attention. At first, the smooth surface gives us the illusion that we're on a leisurely stream. But our life vests and helmets remind us otherwise. The anticipation amps up our adrenaline, and the laughter and slight chit-chat turn to anxiety once the first ripples appear in the water; it's right then we realize we aren't on a rowboat, merrily going down the stream. 

The strong current pushes us left and quickly back to the right. Wait, it could be the other way around. There are only so many things to worry about, like paddling to steer this raft! The white water isn't throwing us around too severely yet. I can still hold my balance. But soon, the waves and current turn violent as the waves crash over our heads and our body rocks side-to-side harder. The yellow raft jolts up and down like a seesaw. The momentum slows to a crawl while the raft climbs up the wave and intensifies as we descend, like a spike drives into the water. The exhilaration of the cold water freezes through your body, ices your veins, and hardens your resolve to take on the massive river.

Like a prelude to a rollercoaster's sixty-foot drop, our body can barely hold the excitement because, in our mind, we know what's on the other side of the great wave: the exhilarating sensation of a free fall like no other. The nose of the raft tilts upwards as the white caps of the waves spill over the top, flooding the inside of our boat with water. A spray of liquid hydrogen covers our faces as the wetness soaks our clothes, saturating our bodies. The overflow of water engulfs the tip of the boat as it crawls up the sides of the yellow raft synthetic rubber and begins to flood in from all sides, filling our raft to the brim with water from the river but quickly thrown out when our boat is tossed upwards. 

This boat is like a floating bathtub that fits 12, and we're sitting low in the water because our collective weight and gear push us down partially below the surface. The waves flex' our muscles and lift us over their peak. The nose tips slowly downward, tittering on the brink of our anxiety as our heavy bodies and the shifting water begin to pull us down, Sir Isaac Newton's law of gravity in full effect, as we are pulled down in a hurried pace. The screams of glee and the smell of fear fill the air, overtaking the roar of the angry waves crashing about us while the mighty river, try as she might, attempts to tip us over.

The nose of the boat drives into the small, flat surface that has separated itself from the rest of the rocky waves, sandwiching the boat between the eye of the storm and bliss. For a brief second of calmness, we are surrounded by utter chaos.

The calmness ends once the water regroups, and with ferocity and vengeance, water bonding pushes back. It knocks the raft backward, and we are in midair, which causes our bodies to be suspended in time and place. We are free of the gravity that once held us until the backward raft can't climb, slides back under our hovering bodies, and catches before we can escape. The waves pound us again, and the raft moves forward to get back in the fight.

Paddle! Paddle! Paddle!

We paddle hard and strike the water to tame this beast. But the river doesn't care. She is too big and strong. Mother Nature has her back, and she won't be broken. Try as we might, our paddling is fruitless; we just use the poles to keep ourselves from being swallowed.

The momentum of our bodies stops as our backsides park back in the place we were ejected from just a second ago. Our neck whips back, striking our protected heads into the other heads bobbling around us. The pounding of the helmets makes a loud collective pop, entwining itself with the sound of the river. The smile on our faces quickly washed away as the water pushed through everything in its path. But the enthusiasm is still there, and the smile returns. At the same time, we exhale the oxygen we held in before the water rushes in with thunderous speed. The anticipation of the next high-flying rapid is coming our way for yet another go-around in this never-ending wave pool.

When the wake subsides and calm waters return, we celebrate with hi-fives and laughter. We didn't win; we survived! Finally, as our reward, we will enjoy the views as we float on top of a calm, lazy river until we reach the campsite.

In reality, though, my imagination ran away with me. This white-water rafting adventure was really a calm, lazy river in a controlled water park, but being a dad of 2 little boys allowed my imagination to run free. There's nothing like enjoying a lazy day on the river with my boys at this water park. Even if your reality is the man-made concrete river, it is worth pretending to feel the joy in your kid's laughter over and over again.


902 words



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Christopher Fusaro. The author of Captain Imperfecto.

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2 comments:

  1. Even on the darkest days, that "perfect time" with your kids can make everything seem ok again; even if for only a moment. Thank you for sharing. I am in awe of your strength! ;)

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  2. Rafting is undoubtedly a wonderful water sport. Rafting in Rishikesh

    ReplyDelete