Down the Snake

Down the Snake
By Mallory Wheeler

Yellow, blue, and grey commercial rafts line up along the entrance port. Those of us waiting scavenge for flat rocks, hoping to skip one lucky pebble to that far and unknown side.
I am handed a paddle. Once again, I am in the front for a third year. I find the most excitement here. I am first to see the water drop away from around the raft, first to feel the splash of the wave as it breaks around the raft. The lead sets the pace, those in the front control the rhythm of the raft. Teamwork is crucial. Our guide tells us, even if the rapid is huge, and you just want to cling to the person next to you, you must paddle through the entire rapid. It could save your life. Paddling through that churning water acts like a third leg on a tripod, bracing you against the river, and keeping you inside the raft.
We push away from the shore. Anticipation overcomes me. Though this is the fourth year that I have been on this trip, it has never been the same. Last year, it was the highest I have ever seen it. The level of the river affects the ferocity of the rapids. When the water is high, Big Kahuna is a huge rapid, full of dips and holes, and blind corners, sending out a challenge to anyone willing to test their abilities. When it is low, Big Kahuna mellows out a little bit, and Lunch Counter comes to life.
We come to the Dire Straits, a calm shallow part of the river. Our guide tells us not to be misled. While the river is calm here, a monster rages ahead. Still he gives us the ok, and I back flip into the river, my personal flotation device trying to get my right side up before I introduce my head to a rock. I resurface. This is a water baptism, acknowledging to the river gods that I understand that they are in control.
Since I was little, getting wet has been a gift. The hot sun of mid day beating down from above, making me sweat to death; never wanting to go back indoors because of the endless beauty. There was only one solution, and that was water. Swimming, running through the sprinklers, or just taking one five gallon bucket filled to the brim, and throwing it over your head, it took care of the heat, if only for a little while, and if I dried off, it was a simple repeat. As others from both my raft and neighboring rafts jump in, water fights begin. I want to share my love of water with everyone, and seeing as we were already in the river, why not?
I dunk one of my best friends, freshly back from Germany. As she sputters back to the surface, sputtering words foreign to me. I won’t repeat them in English. The water fight continues, and unknowingly, I get further and further ahead of my raft. I don’t realize how far away I have gotten until I hear the call of the river guide’s voice, “you need to get back here. We’re approaching rapids.”
I am ahead of the raft, so I have two choices: let the boat catch up to me, and risk going through the rapids by myself, or swim against the current, and make it back to the safety of that inflated piece of rubber. I chose number two.
I make it back to the raft, and they pull me in about 300 yards before we hit the big one. That is, the Big Kahuna. Certain times of the year, you can actually see people surfing on the Snake River if this rapid is big enough.
We get closer. We decide which song we want to sing as we go over the rapid. We all agree on an old camp fire song, Miss O’Leary.
The harsh cry of “All forward!” rings from the back of the boat, where our guide is steering us toward the underwater waterfall that is the Big Kahuna. I see the water drop out from around the raft. I can’t see anything but white mist and water everywhere. I hear a startled scream, and realize that it escaped from my own lips. Dropping into the deep hole, we start singing.

One dark night
When we were all in bed
Miss O’Leary left
A lantern in the shed.
The cow kicked it over,
Winked her eye and said,
Its gonna be a hot time
In the old town
Tonight.

FIRE FIRE FIRE
WATER WATER WATER!
JUMP LADY JUMP!
EEEOOOOWWW BOOOING!

We yelled WATER WATER WATER at the top of our lungs, but could barely hear each other. A surge blasted up out of the abyss, knocked me backwards, and almost out of the raft. The only thing holding me in, were the people next to me and behind me, holding onto my foot and the back of my life vest. Water, water every where, trying to dump me in the drink.
Talk about perfect

Written at Writers@Harriman