Dead Man Kayaking
Here it is, the mother of all days in the Grand Canyon and we are not even talking the much feared Lava Falls. You have been warned!!! (Some language may be inappropriate for our less than mature readers!)
Damn It, Damn It, Damn It! Suddenly I instantly found myself underneath the crushing, recirculating waves of a monster hole. Darkness from the murky waters surrounded me and the uncertainty of my survival was at the forefront of my mind. The waters of the Colorado River are so cold that your body cannot override the gasp reflex. (The Gasp Reflex is the instinctive and shockingly uncontrollable, sudden inhalation of air like when you jump into a cold shower). Gasping air into your lungs is particularly bad when your face is already under water. Lungs in the water = bad. In addition to the pressure from the immense weight of the water, it is also noisy when you are underneath all the turbulence.
My faith was placed on the skills of Tom and the crew on his raft, because the rafts ahead of me could do nothing to come to my rescue now that they had already entered the rapid. Hopefully the raft following me saw me get pulled under. Still holding my breath, I ripped my kayak paddle through the violent currents, placing it in position on my best side. Of all the practice, back deck, combat, pool sessions, etc, this was going to be the one roll that counted. One flick of my hips confirmed what I teach in every Eskimo roll class. It is much better to end up upright seconds after you capsize, rather than having to pull your skirt, wet exit, swim, recover your boat and paddle, get the water out, and get back in. I made my roll and was quick to confirm that the hole had released me downstream, effectively granting me permission to continue on down her river.
Getting sucked under left me with more questions than answers. Our friend Angela, a quite competent rafter with many years of experience was helping Kevin and me to pick our lines. We were finally in kayaks today after purposefully postponing this until we could muster the confidence to brave the biggest waters either of us had ever seen in our lives. Up to now, Angela’s “read and run” techniques of picking the line as you enter the rapid rather than stopping to scout these from the shore, had proved effective. Kevin entered the rapid on the left as Angela indicated, with me following close behind. At the last second, she gave me the hand signal to go right instead. Let me repeat, she clearly indicated that I go right. I quickly corrected my course just in time to see that I was headed directly towards the biggest hole we had seen all day. Did I mention that my objective was to avoid holes at all cost? “OH @#$%, I was going right into the pourover created by an underwater rock ledge!” From the perspective of the kayak, the backside of this hole was a depression in the water akin to a meteoric crater. This Bermuda triangle of the river was followed by a wall of water from the giant haystack waves. Even after I made my roll I still had to maintain my composure to finish the last 500 yards of the rapid.
With much relief, I turbo charged my kayak to catch Kevin. “Did you see what just happened to me?” He had not. He was busy with his own challenges that the rapid had dealt. Still keeping on the speed, I caught up with Angela’s boat. “Did you mean to send my right into that hole?” Laughing her butt off, she exclaimed, “Yeah, I saw it was a friendly hole, and thought it would be funny to see you go into it.” K A R M A!!!!