Personal Narrative

 

What If

 Sound of white water roaring in my ears, beams of sun reflecting off of my sun glasses, and majestic canyon walls shooting up to the sky, this was the scene of my ever approaching death. Unlike popular belief my life did not flash before my eyes, contrary to this stereotype, my eyes peered into my oncoming oblivion. Lenny and I paddled our way onto the top of a gigantic wave. The next 10 seconds of my life happened in slow motion. It was unreal and dream like. I was moving like it was a dream. My head robotically turned to the left. My cohort, Lenny shot me an expression that is engraved in my mind forever, perhaps my soul too. A tear formed in my eye and began to roll down my cheek. This was a hole. A hole is a huge hazard in a river. I bestowed the name Bertha upon this hole. Myriads of kayaker’s moments before were appetizers for Bertha. She grasped them into her bosom. We knew the danger that was at hand. Our heads mechanically turned foreword. Our plunge into our death was now. 

Jaws dropped and fear was expressed in the form of vulgar words. In seconds our raft was seven feet down. I assumed fetal position. My eyes glazed with fear while I glanced down at the chicken line. I was glad that our raft was equipped with this most elite and valuable piece of gear. This rope that lined the raft was meant for only "chickens" to grasp. I would rather lose my pride than lose my entire life. My hands clenched the line of rope forcefully. I looked up to see my imminent doom approach. It was a white darkness. A wave of white water several feet tall towered over me. A wall of water shook me and made my ancestor's tremble. 

Bertha grasped the raft as a whole and brought it into her unforgiving bosom. Ice cold water from the Yampa River entered into my ears as if it were an invited guest. My dry suit's purpose seemed to be no more. It felt as if my body became a measly piece of laundry and tossed into a washer.  Bertha violently shook me, but she could not pry my finger tips from the chicken line. Looking back, that chicken line became a life line for me. At one point I was in no control of my body. In this rush I wondered why was I being shaken so much and not just spit out of Bertha. I came to the verdict that this was God's way of washing me before I ascended into Heaven. The song November Rain by Guns 'n Roses began playing mentally in my head. My body was slowly rising. 

The thunderous sounds of Hell's forge consumed my thoughts. I could hear once again, granted the sounds were not beautiful but that meant I was resurfacing on top of the water. My eyes shot open, yet I could not yet see anything. Air filled my once depleted lungs. I gasped. My life had been spared. Once the water cleared from my glasses I looked across from me. I peered and saw my companion trembling with fear.

"Lenny I love you!" I yelled.

"Nick I love you too!" Lenny shot back.

Just like before our eyes met. We then realized that we were not done with our journey. Bertha kept us in her bosom. We were surfing. She had not spat us out just yet. She wanted to have some fun with us. We had no choice. Lenny and I carefully crawled to each other for a hug of brotherly love. We had eluded death together, and now we were stuck surfing together until Bertha did not want to play with our semi naked bodies anymore.

This experience has changed my life in many ways. It has made me a more cautious person overall. It opened my eyes to a new perspective of life. It has made me realize that if my life were to become no more on any given day, I would be missed. It made me feel very blessed for the life that I have. The rest of the day on the river made me sit back and think. I played the “what if” game for hours. I thought about what if that event had gone south. It made me realize that I am not an invincible person and that I could die at any given moment.

A mental movie of my course instructor’s desperately swimming through rapids to retrieve my body just to find out I was dead soon started playing in my head. In my mental movie they then tossed my lifeless body onto the oar rig and finished the rapids. They called from the satellite phone at the closet place they could. Within hours my body would be on a helicopter flying home to my parents so they could bury their own child. It gave me the chills. It opened my eyes to something new. I did not want to die. I did not want to put my parents burying their own child. That is not right. Ultimately this experience has changed my life…