boat wreck, part III
Monday, August 31 
Youngest Son jumps from a popular cliff jumping spot on the Clark Fork River.
I took a bad swim after the inflatable kayak I was in capsized at the entry point to a challenging set of rapids called Tumbleweed, where a man drowned a few weeks before. When finally spit out of the seemingly endless washing machine I made it to shore, laid there hyperventilating and looked for my girlfriend who’d also dumped. Shawn secured the raft on shore with the kids in it while he took off in a kayak, retrieving equipment that had been swallowed by the angry mess of water.
“Are you okay?” Youngest Son, Middle Son and his friend yelled out to my girlfriend and me.
“That was so scary watching you,” Youngest Son called out tearily.
My sun hat had been snatched, along with my sunglasses, but I was fine.
The problem was that the rapids — which are class III or IV — had caught us by surprise, so we didn’t have time to pull off to the side and make a plan before taking our boats through like we usually do. They didn’t pose a problem for a large raft, or even for Oldest Son and his friend, both of whom were in hard-sided kayaks with spray skirts, and had been in a kayaking camp together this past summer.
Shawn says watching us flounder in the water was terrifying, and that by sheer luck I missed hitting a large rock and instead plunged into a hole where a freight train of re-circulating water pummeled both me and my girlfriend.
Alberton Gorge, a section of the Clark Fork River, is known as some of Montana’s best whitewater. Our plan had been to do the same stretch again the following day, but unfortunately, that included surviving Tumbleweed again. “We need to go back and face that one again and do it right,” my girlfriend said to me.
“Do we?” I wondered.
Oldest Son has become a very competent kayaker after weeks of working with instructors. Still, I worry.
The next day as we stood on shore staring at Tumbleweed, Shawn and Oldest Son pointed out the much easier line that we could paddle to stay in the boat and avoid danger, but sometimes fear overrules reason. I’d been humbled by the sheer force of water: How things can go from just fine to time to change your dipes in mere seconds. At that point, floundering in the water and fighting to keep your head up and avoid obstacles, you are at the mercy of a river that appreciates none of your saintly qualities, and about as out of control as one can be.
“Are you okay to do this?” Shawn asked me as I got in the kayak.
“No, I’m terrified,” I snapped.
“Then you shouldn’t go,” he replied.
Still, I went.
I followed the line we’d identified and made it through, wholly engulfed by dizzying panic as I maneuvered. When I punched it through the last hole, a wall of water knocked my contact lenses off center, and I paddled blindly to shore, smiling at the sheer joy of being DONE.
“That’s my mom!” Youngest Son yelled.
The other boys yelled happily too, and my girlfriend and I high-fived when we met safely on shore.It’s a rare day in my house when I hear praise delivered with such holy-roller enthusiasm, and it’s easy to eat it up. Still, the experience has shaken me, leaving me with questions.
The boys are always egging each other on, ratcheting up the danger a bit. Did I just show them that their mom came out on top after facing her fear? Or did I show them that sometimes people do stupid shit and almost die, just to go and do it again? Maybe we don’t need to climb the highest mountains and explore every sea.
Isn’t that why we have cable?
I feel lucky I can raise the boys doing things that western kids do: skiing, rafting, cliff jumping, biking, backpacking, but in some ways it comes with a higher price tag than a Wii machine. Kids don’t stay on bunny hills for long, and last time I checked no one ever died playing Wii.I don’t have any answers. And I’m not suggesting that we quit our outdoor adventures. All I know is that losing one of them this way would crush me forever. And if I died, there’d be no one to question how many days they’ve been wearing the same boxers or to make sure they eat more than jerky and Cheetos.
Before the Bad Swim, our family felt immortal. After the Bad Swim, it seems the line between fun and danger is more tenuous than I’d ever imagined.
p.s. No boat wreck, part IV. Promise.
Me paddling "Fang," happy to have Tumbleweed behind me. I'm wearing a nifty hat with eagles and an American flag design that one of the boys found, but will buy and wear a helmet next time.
Reader Comments (3)
How terrifying that must have been! I'm glad you made it. :-)
Helmets are a good idea, too.
So, glad you survived unscathed. We are often envious of the natural beauty & challenges you guys live with every day. Flat, hot, and alligators can get pretty boring. Shuttle night launches are pretty cool, tho.
Saw City Boy & Uncle Boz this weekend. I'm only now recovering from my hangover. Good time was had by all.
And you never know where danger lurks:
http://www.thesun.co.uk/sol/homepage/news/article2348477.ece
Next time you trim the hedges use a little hair conditioner it makes the job easier and you are conditioned. Your raft trip story is epic, I also love the pics of your 50th bike ride. You need a helmet for all your sports sister. Shawn doesnt because he has a wooden head. Although he has dented his noggin a few times. But he is prettier for it. I thought Shawns nickname was Fang ? roflol