White Water Rafting and Being Correct

I've always been afraid to do it.
I grew up in West Virginia and the "thing" to do was go white water rafting on the Gauley River. If you look up footage on youtube, you'll understand why I had no desire to get into that kind of mess. I do not know a single soul who had done the Gauley and come out without cuts or bruises, and I know of one person who died on it. So, when I moved to Nashville and people started mentioning rafting on the Ocoee, you can imagine why my answer was, "Absolutely not. No thank you."

And then I started kind of wanting to face a few fears. I don't know why. Maybe I'm just scared of too many things and I'm tired of being owned by my fears. I mean, really, we're all going to die anyway, right?

First up was the snake fear. I decided I was going to touch one. However, when I went into the reptile store on Nolensville Road and got light-headed because I was literally so scared I was going to pass out at the point of realizing I was surrounded by snakes in little tupperware containers, and I had to leave...well, I decided to leave that fear intact.

Next up, white water rafting.

And, so, yesterday was the day. We loaded into the raft at Ocoee Outdoors with our guide-of-eleven-years, Jeremy (or Fraser, depending on who you ask) and we were off. Kids, I was nervous. I'm not even going to pretend otherwise. We had ten miles of river to go and all I knew was if anyone was going to die in our group, it would definitely be me.


And, boy, don't I look happy about it.

Needless to say, they don't set up the photo-ops at the...er...exciting places.

Several hours into the trip, Jeremy says, "Oh, we're going to surf here." I don't know what that means, but I assume from watching the boat before us do it that we're going to get a little stuck at the bottom of the waterfall and the boat will rock from side to side. I was wrong. We paddled over like lambs to the slaughter, we 'surfed' for a few seconds, Jeremy turned the boat to where I was on the side with the waterfall, and it wasn't ten seconds before I was just gone. I fell out, went under, panicked a little and started kicking, till I opened my eyes and couldn't see any light. That's when I remembered to let the life jacket do it's job and rode it out. First, I came up and hit my head on the raft. I went back down and came up on the other side of the raft, and floated on down the river.

I know they say you're floating, but the truth is, you're trying to get a breath, you're coughing the water out of your lungs, waves are still going over your head and taking you under, and you're trying to remember everything they told you in the safety briefing (and what you've learned from watching movies.) "Don't panic," I told myself. Someone yelled to me, "Get your paddle," and I wanted to say, "I CAN AFFORD TO BUY YOU A NEW ONE, MORON. I'M BUSY TRYING TO LIVE!!" But, I couldn't really talk. Aside from the "floating," I was trying to use my feet in front of me to avoid hitting the unseen underwater rocks. My left cheek can attest to you today that I failed that mission, though. Ouch.



Finally, they pulled me into the boat, and we went back to get Jim, who, unbeknownst to me, had fallen in right after me and taken two lungs full of water. I only hit the raft once trying to get up, but he hit it several times. Not good. And, probably best that I didn't know he was in a little trouble, or the 'don't panic' mantra wouldn't have worked.

We got situated, coughed it out, and started paddling again. A few rapids later, I was back in the water, 'floating.' When you don't have any idea that you're going in the water, though, you just don't know to take a big breath. And, so, I panicked a little more this time and had to worry about drowning for even more yards. I could see Jim had fallen out and he had floated down in front of me, but I just couldn't breathe. The waves kept coming over my head and I just couldn't get it together. (But, I had that ever important paddle in my hand this time, somehow. Isn't that ridiculous?) When I finally got out of that rough water and was maybe ten yards from Jim, I was able to say to him, "This part isn't fun."

Okay, now back in, and David is the only person who hadn't been out of the boat. Kids, I knew Jeremy was going to put him in and I was just trying to be ready. Sure enough, when it came time, I was flying through the air again. This time I had enough wit about me to take a big breath and hold my nose. Ahhh...much better. I went under and was back up in no time. And, aside from the fact that I landed on Dave who was underwater, and I might have stood on him a second too long, we were all okay. I felt like that was my Olympic fall. (Great form.)

This time, Jim and Jeremy pulled me back onto the raft. I thought it was maybe time to hedge my bets and I said to Jeremy, with my body half-in and half-out of the raft, "I'd like for us to be friends. All the things I've said and done to make you mad at me, I'd like to apologize for." He promised I wouldn't go in again after that. (Note to self.)

And, with that, Eric 'rode the bull' on the final rapid and didn't fall off, and we ended ten miles on the Ocoee, life and lungs intact.



And, I'm not going to lie to you, it was scary a few times. And, I was totally right for being a little nervous about it.
But, at the end of the day, I did it. I stepped waaaaaaaayyy out of a comfort zone and ended up alive.
That feels pretty good.

-b

p.s. You still couldn't pay me to do the Gauley.