Row, row, row your boat

While I was on vacation in the Pacific Northwest, I got the opportunity to raft down the Trinity river. I haven't done this since 1983 and it is one of my fondest memories . I laughed constantly as we bounced down the river, being tossed around the raft, falling out of it and rarely rowing because I was always askew. I never knew this kind of fun existed. Now, as a middleaged adult, I had the opportunity to do it all again and could not wait to repeat the event.

This time, the river is very affected by current drought conditions here in California. The water level is low which makes the churny bits of water not as frothy but still fun and exciting. I found myself in a large rental raft stamped with BIG FOOT on the side in bright yellow letters, with a concerning number of patches in various stages of peel and fray, and  an inability to stay inflated for maximum float-age. There is a large bailing bucket hooked on which made me question the patchwork from the get go, but later would discover as a necessity as the boat loses air and takes on water. 

I arranged myself in the raft with my Mr. Man and 3 of his brothers, and realize none of us assigned to this craft know anything about traversing a raging rapid or have a clue where this water way is going. There is a lot of flexing and waving  paddles around like we know what we're doing, but also murmuring amongst us that perhaps we need a guide. We forced my daughter, who is strong and has recently rode this waterway, away from her cousins and into our raft making her abandon a much better and newer one motored by a younger under 30 group. Her group also has the only Z bro who knows the river and rafting ins and outs and actually has done this many times. . .

We paddled gingerly into the current and ended up spinning in circles, my daughter trying to steer us from behind and shouting to some of us to "ROW dammit!". It is not going well and we need leadership. We hit our first little wave and the two brothers sitting in the front of the boat flip over backwards into my rows laps, their legs kicking helplessly into the air as they struggled to get up right while we are on the move. As our raft zig-zagged and our daughter shouted for rowing, we were buffered into the side of the river where everyone screamed "DUCK!" (well, some of us said a version of duck), as the bush and trees slapped us in the face and tried to decapitate us. Once free of this nightmare, our raft ran aground and there we pathetically sat. The younger rafters merrily skirts through the brush, bouncing along and missing all rocks and debris chortling with glee as they pass us , but see us struggling and the necessity to help us off our rock bound predicament.

A boat crew change is made, #1 Brother is exchanged with River Brother and seating arrangements shuffled. #1 Brother is compliant as he is sent to the youngsters craft and he has no idea that the next 3 hours are going to be so much better and easier on his arms and general well being than if he stayed on my craft. I'm sorry to see him go because he has been my row buddy and is always very level headed and calm.

I haven't been able to see Mr. Man because he is seated behind me and I concentrate on doing my part which was weighting down the back of the craft along  with an ice chest. I'm certain this is the cause of our grounding in the center of the river. When it happened a second time, I am convinced it was so.......

River Brother takes the lead, jumping into the water to free our raft,  jerking us off our sand bar. Mr. Man jumped in to help the back end of the raft, but my life vest prevented me from turning to look behind to encourage him as I feared a sudden shift change. He certainly made it back into the boat, flopping in like a big salmon out of breath and was quietly spent by his efforts to drag us free of the rocks. Daughter becomes more adept at shouting and berating us to row better and in unison when and where needed. A few bats in the head or back with her oar to each of us also helped. I kept remembering a chant from Girl Scout camp- "If the log rolls over we'll all be dead!" and substituted raft for log. This ran through my head many times.

 We  eventually got into our row rhythm. I changed seats to the front so that the craft was equally weighted front and back and not like an outboard jet boat about to launch into space.

 The day went happily by and again, I laughed and laughed, enjoying the day , the scenery, the company and very glad for the opportunity to repeat one of my happiest days. That my friends is a blessing and I hope to repeat the event once more.

"Row, row, row your boat, swiftly down the stream, merrily,  merrily,  merrily merrily  life is but a dream".

Thank you Z Bros. None of you are going to make the Olympic rowing team, but you did a fine job managing to propel us down those miles of river without losing one person.