Into the Drink

It was something he loved, challenging Mother Nature, challenging himself. Be it free climbing or deep diving, doing it was when he felt most alive. When I married him, I knew that was part of the new calculus of how I’d live the rest of my life. Pursue something daring with him, or stay home and worry. It was a mixed bag. I didn’t want to be the old bag.

Sam was well aware of my hesitancy, but he professed to loving me anyway just the way I was, fun but quietly careful. He didn’t expect me to do anything dangerous. No expectations equalled no disappointments. Sam went in with eyes wide open, realizing that my adventurousness might stop at roller coasters and blue run skiing. He was amazing, this man of mine. Yet in my parallel universe, I knew I’d have to move out of my comfort zone and do some wild things that his psyche desperately needed for survival. If I always stayed behind playing video games or bridge, I feared that someday I’d find him with eyes widely pointed elsewhere. It was my duty, my destiny, to try to keep up.

Despite my dubiousness about success in these endeavors -- and the sheer terror related to some of them -- I knew love must prevail.

“Don’t worry Ruby, we won’t do anything you’re uncomfortable with,” he’d say soothingly, softly rubbing my shoulder.

“I love you more than you will ever know. You can be by my side, or you can welcome me home with open arms. You are my one love.” His words melted me.

This man of mine was so easy to love! He was willing to walk me through things, patiently explaining technicalities, expertly giving guidance.

That was why, when Andy and Leah brought up whitewater rafting last summer, I said I’d try it. Would they please pick an easy trip?

The three of them found the easiest trip around. Cache Creek near Sacramento. The “rapids” were anything but rapid. Class I, small waves, no obstructions, easy peasy. We had paddles, but it was more like floating in a backyard pool than “whitewatering.” I could tell they were itching for more. For them, it seemed like settling for Autopia when they really want to drive a Porsche on the autobahn.

I always liked Autopia. But I had to admit, this rafting was a piece of cake.

Feeling proud and accomplished, satisfied that I didn’t spoil the trip for my hubby and friends, I promised to go again next summer. Class I was comfortable. I said I’d try Class II next time.

**

“You can do this, Ruby. Remember how easy it was last year? You’ll get your sea legs, and you’ll be ready for it.” Sam’s confidence in me is awesome.

Leah chimes in, “We checked it out, we took a day trip on the Lower Kern last month to help ease your mind. You can totally do it.”

Andy nods, smiling reassuringly, flashing his dimples.

I acquiesce. It’ll be fun! We haven’t spent time with our friends lately. We’ll have hot days, cool water, a campfire, and people to pitch camp, cook, and clean.

Two days on California’s Kern River. Class I and II upriver, then the Lower Kern on day two, Class II (easy rapids, some maneuvering) and some Class III (possibly narrow passages, higher waves, more maneuvering needed).

The deadly Kern. The subject of tragic news stories. I’m trying to forget that as we laugh and sing on our drive. But I see the sign anyway, the ominous sign enumerating deaths on the river. We drive by quickly but see 330-something. They’re not joking.

A few more turns in the road, a rousing off-key chorus of Bon Jovi’s “Livin’ on a Prayer,” and we arrive.

We pull in and park, and everything is exciting! The enthusiastic staff abounds with energy! These fit, beautiful people are no-nonsense as they prepare. Ashli checks off our names, Malik stows our packs in the van. Jack passes out life vests. Anyone want a helmet? Take one anyway! Last chance to buy sunglass leashes and cold sodas! Last chance to use a decent restroom!

We’re bouncing up the road in an old school bus piloted by Malik, hauling a squeaky metal trailer piled high with yellow and orange heavy-weight rubber rafts plus colorful paddles. River guides Jack, Janna and Tyler teach us rafting terms and signals, like a raised paddle means ok/all’s clear. Drake, Beyoncé and Tom Petty keep us company as we’re running down our dream.

We four are assigned to Jack. Tyler has parents with three rowdy tweens, and Janna gets a reunion of former Boy Scouts. The guides carefully present the safety rules: how to grip paddles, double-check life vests, what to do when we fall out. Sam hugs me from behind, nuzzling my ear and reminding me that he’s the one who’ll take care of me, now and forever. He’s thrilled to have me here. I’m glad I’m here for him.

The cold water surprises me, although it is Sierra snow melt. Refreshing on this hot July day! It’s Class I as we float, paddle occasionally, splash ourselves, and float down this deceptively calm river, admiring the rocky canyon walls, bright with golden yarrow and white-flowering yuccas. Willow trees give a bit of shade. I sip my water bottle and mentally note to re-apply sunscreen at lunch.

Jack shows us again how to paddle forward, paddle back, left back, right back, stop, high side, get down, dig in. He drills us, yells at us, teaching how to respond to instructions. We practice on the easy river. He says practicing creates muscle-memory if things get dicey.

Jack impresses us with his abilities and easy demeanor. He’s small and wiry, yet mighty when manipulating paddles, calling instructions, and hauling that lumberous raft onto the riverbank.

Gourmet sandwiches and cookies come out of dry bags for lunch. Tweens splash in the river, Scouts go bouldering, we relax on the beach.

“Hey guys, here’s what’s next,” river guide Tyler gathers us around to explains the river’s next section.

“We’ve been in one’s, now we’re heading for two’s and three’s” he says. Tweens whoo-hoo approval and Scouts give high-fives. I side-glance at Leah, she quickly looks away. I turn to Sam. He winks, mouthing ‘you’ve got this.’ Tyler continues with reminders: paddle grips, what to do if you fall out, how to haul someone back in. He demonstrates visual rafting commands and paddle calls: forward, back, dig in.

On the water, I’m managing Class II like a pro, albeit a scaredy cat pro. Sam’s beaming. He’s in his element, and I’m holding my own. My first goal is safety; second, I don’t want to disappoint dear Sam. I’m really getting into this!

Hours seem like minutes, then Jack says “We’re pulling out at camp after Class III rapids ahead. Remember the training, let’s try again now.” We repeat instructions, plunge our paddles in deep, and we’re in it! Jack calls out instructions, our paddles respond accordingly. We're riding waves! Yeah! Wait, is this...fun?

Sam is laughing out loud next to me. I can’t see Leah and Andy behind me, but I hear them laughing too. I feel myself smiling, thinking of roller coasters, whether I’m actually having fun. Taking another peek at Sam affirms it, yes! I’m having fun!

Suddenly the mother in the other raft screams as her daughter falls into the river! But that girl did a good job listening, she’s doing just what she’s supposed to. Back float, feet downstream, arms crossed over chest, go with the flow until the river slows down. The waves are crashing, the mom keeps screaming. Sam jumps in! A squeal escapes my lips. My heart skips a beat as a rogue wave swallows him!

Sam comes to the surface farther down the river, closer to the girl. Without a thought to his own safety, Sam power strokes right over to her, putting his body between hers and a rock. They ride the current together, him cradling her, until it eases and he leads her to her raft. The mother settles down, professing thanks. Tyler hauls the girl in, grabbing the collar of her life vest and leaning backwards into the raft. She pops right in. Sam casually floats back to us. Andy pulls him in next to me. Sam’s simply delighted.

“What a rush!” he laughs, leaning over to kiss me, hard. He grabs my hand, telling me how much he loves me. What I guy I have. Not thinking of his own safety when someone needs help. An admirable quality, but one which sometimes makes me desperately afraid.

Soon we see the wide beach where Ashli and Malik pitched tents before starting dinner. The guys help the guides pull the rafts up on shore. Leah and I walk up the canyon to the van, grab our packs, and return to camp.

Dinner is simply delicious. The clear skies afford an incredible view of the Milky Way, and the s’mores pair perfectly with a fine cabernet.

**

“Rise and shine!” Janna calls, banging on a pan. We’ve all been up awhile due to the enticing sizzle and smell of bacon cooking. We eat up, clean up, pack up, and listen to Ashli’s morning report. “With the warmer weather and more snow melt, the river’s flow has increased. More water means a wilder ride. More three’s than two’s today, and even a couple of four’s.”

Jack cuts in. “You’re all veteran paddlers here, you can do this. Yesterday we had a perfect example of what happens when you go overboard. If we doubted your abilities, we’d ask you to get in the van. It’s your call. Ashli can drive you back, we can refund today’s money, or you can go for it.”

There’s no question, we’re all in. I’m a bit trepidatious, but with Sam’s strong arms around me in an encouraging hug, and his belief that I can do anything, I guess I can.

**

It’s lunchtime and I’m beat! This morning was the toughest workout I’ve had since bootcamp sports clinic. Instead of Class II’s, the rapids were almost constant three’s. My arms are sore! I collapse on the beach, awaiting food. Sam lovingly gives me a neck rub, then shoulders, now upper arms. I promise him he’ll get a very nice massage tonight. That twinkle in his eye holds promise.

Jack tells us don’t be fooled, despite the river’s lull. The toughest part is just ahead. Three’s and four’s with not a lot of down time between them. It’s gonna be great! We bring our paddles up and clank them together signifying readiness. The rafts spread out so we won’t all jam up in narrower passages.

Sam pulls me close with his arm around my waist. “Here’s looking at you, kid,” he drawls, kissing my nose. So cliché, but that always gives me a shivery little thrill.

I hear the water churning ahead. We round the bend, here we go! Jack furiously barks orders. We dig in, don’t capsize, keep going. Wow, that’s intense! We stop, floating for a few minutes, catching our breath.

Whew! Acknowledging that adrenaline rush, I give Sam a huge smile. Sam’s expression is a soundless ‘I told you so,’ followed by a deep kiss.

Tyler calls, “Buckle up, here we go!” then disappears into waves and spray. Janna’s raft full of Scouts gets swallowed next.

Jack shouts, “Ready!”

Bam! A cold wave hits us. Jack’s promise of muscle memory comes true. “Back paddle! Back! We don’t want a hang up! Back!” Jack guides us around boulders.

“Dig in! Dig! Forward! Power forward! Go! Go!” It doesn’t let up.

“Left paddle, watch the eddy! Left! Forward!”

Andy cheers behind me, “Yeah babe! Go Leah!”

Sam’s grinning. He’s flawless. The muscles strain on his arms as he paddles hard and fast. My paddle fights for control more clumsily and slowly than his. I hang onto it and dig in like I’ve never dug in before.

We hit a boulder and bounce. My arm hits something, I drop my paddle. I’m out of the raft!

The roiling waves grind around the rocks. I want to scream but don’t, keeping my air in. What did they say to do, what? ‘I’m in the drink’ snaps into my head. I resist the urge to laugh. What do I do? What?

Get on my back! Fold my arms so they don’t snag anything. Do it! Good. Feet forward, don’t catch feet in submerged roots. Move legs. Do it. Do it!

I can’t! What’s wrong? My legs won’t go downstream! No! I’m trying so hard! Bobbing up, inhaling luscious air. Under again! My arms are folded, my legs aren’t cooperating!

I see lovely blue sky through the churning water. Sediment and tiny pebbles from the riverbed swirl, stinging my legs and arms. I steal another gulp of air. I see yellow, maybe the raft? I think of Sam. He’s going to be so disappointed.

My legs are failing. I’ve done so many squats so I could ski with Sam. Why are they rubber? It’s not fair! I see willows, submerged dark, fibrous roots, stay away, stay away! Is that a fish? Sam I love you, sorry I failed. Sorry.

I’m in the air! I’m in the raft! Sam’s arms are around me. I suck in lungsful of precious oxygen. Everyone is soaked, happily clanking paddles and shouting. Did you see that? Damn, that slaps!

“All good?” Jack asks. Sam answers with a paddle up.

“Hey sweetheart,” Sam asks gently, lightly patting my back. “Can you talk? Did you swallow too much water?”

I burst out crying, still gulping in exquisite air.

“You’re safe Ruby, you’re safe,” he whispers. Leah looks on with concern.

I pull it together, asking, “What happened?”

Andy answers. “We all bounced up, and you smacked me out of the raft with your arm, then you went overboard.”

“Sorry Andy,” I apologize haltingly, “didn’t mean it.”

I blubber out my story. “I tried to do what Jack said. I crossed my arms. My legs wouldn’t go out! They didn’t go right! I saw roots, I thought I’d get tangled and drown. Sam, I didn’t want you getting hurt saving me. I thought that was it. I was in the drink! I was so scared. This is the scariest thing ever!” I sniffle, wiping my teary face on my soaking wet arm.

Sam hugs me tighter.

“No worries, Ruby. I grabbed your collar as you went under. You were with me, close to the raft. You weren’t going anywhere.”

His intense eyes drilled into mine. “How could you think I’d ever let you go?”