"THE
WILLLOW AND THE STORM"
"Hard
left!" yelled Lelani, while beginning to backpaddle on her left side. Two
seconds later she hollered out, "Hold on!" and the raft tilted
precariously to the left, barely avoiding hanging up on the last rock in the
rapid.
"Whew!"
sighed Justin and Brad at the same time. There was a sudden thump followed by
two splish-splashes as both boys fell backwards out of the boat. We had hit a
small bump in the river while the two were laughing and they both flipped out.
The
group as a whole started laughing until we heard the river laugh with us. It
wasn’t a friendly laugh, but more of a deep, ominous chuckle like the river god
was laughing at the puny humans who dared to raft his river. Up ahead there was
a gorge and a rapid with a mean attitude. Lelani told us to get ready; we were
about to tackle the widowmaker. It was the fastest, hardest rapid on the river;
widowmaker was the only class IV in the county. As I held my paddle tightly in
my hands, my right foot locked itself under the tube that crossed the boat.
Unbidden, the rapid’s portentous name sprang into my head like and egg spilling
out of its cracked shell. I groaned, predicting something bad would happen in
relation to the rapid, or with regards to the scrambled eggs I ate for
breakfast, or maybe both. The eggs had been gurgling in my stomach for an hour
and there was no decent bathroom for another 3 hours. I was in heaven
daydreaming about the bright blue porta-potty that awaited me only six miles
downstream until Brad screamed in sheer terror and delight as he saw the rapid.
At the bloodcurdling, hair-raising scream I forgot all about eggs as I readied
myself for the set of thumps and thuds that was coming up fast.
It
happened very early. In fact, it was the first of one of many events that
occurred. AT the first set of bumps, our guide held on to her paddle too long
and flip, she was over the back of the raft. John, the oldest of the six boys
now left alone on the boat, took control. As we crashed and banged our way down
the rapid, I kept looking back to see how Lelani was doing. She was zipping
along as happy as a lark a dozen or so yards behind the boat. After one such
checkup on her, I turned back just in time to see a piece of rock each out and
touch Derek. His arm instantly turned red with blood. When the end was in sigh,
the worst thing on the whole trip happened to me: I fell overboard. I was
anticipating the bump we would get from a boulder I saw ahead, but was totally
unprepared for the thud we received when the raft’s bottom grated on a piece of
submerged granite.
The
trip through the watery roller-coaster was indescribable. Bumping into this
crag, crashing against this boulder, I felt as if the tremendous force of the
river would dash me up against some piece of granite or limestone and end my
life. Indeed there were some times when I just could not stand the pressure of
staying afloat and would be submerged beneath the roiling waters. At these
times I could only vaguely see the beautiful sunlight that had shone brilliant
and golden on me not five minutes ago. After what seemed an eternity I was
released from the torment and torture into the blessed calm waters of a pool.
After
rejoining my group (Lelani had already caught up with them, passing me when I
was submerged), I sat back and reflected on what I had just experienced. The
trial stressed not just the body, but the soul as well. Each had been battered
to near the breaking point, but neither had cracked or fallen apart. Instead
they were like the willow in the storm, bending with the forces that were attempting
to overpower it, yielding all but the last bit of strength. As I stared down at
the mirror like pool in the cool shade of a willow tree that hung like wisteria
over our heads, a saying came to mind. "The willow knows what the storm
does not; patience will always outlast the tempest."