the day i almost died...

It was a cold, drizzly Sunday afternoon in late September. I didn’t mind the fact that seventeen of us young people had to be scrunched into a fifteen passenger van for a two and a half hour drive to eastern Oregon. It would be interesting, to say the least. We were all friends, and the thought of the adventure we were about to embark on was exhilarating. I had never gone white river water rafting before, and though the prospect of getting wet and maybe rained on in the nearly fifty degree weather was disagreeable, I was excited. Once we arrived at the rather desolate parking lot, in the small town near the Deschutes River, we got out and observed the surroundings. The view was breath-taking with large rock cliffs stretching high above and hemming us in on either side. The edges of these giants were sharp, raw and jagged. Some dry trees and rugged brush skirted the bottom of the cliffs. The sky was a heavy grey giving everything beneath it vivid color. As we bounded towards the small shop where we were to change and rent our equipment, the wind tugged at our clothes and hair. Inside the shop I scanned some of the photos on the walls. In the pictures some of the rafts were half submerged in water, and the rafts folded over like tacos. I cringed looking at these wild expeditions, thankful that we would not have to experience anything of the sort.

Soon we were geared up, and after a short bus ride on a dusty gravel road, and some lengthy instructions on the bank of the river, we set out on the water. Altogether there were nine of us in the raft. On the left side, were my two girl friends Lindsey and Holly and two guys, one in the front and one in the back. On our side, my friend Taylor was in the very front, behind him my younger brother Paul, and then behind me was Christian and in the Rear, our guide Daniel. The river flowed peacefully yet powerfully, and it took some strength to paddle against the current. The first set of rapids we hit was enough to splash us considerably, but was not that impressive. I was glad that Daniel had quite a bit of experience on the river, having worked as a guide for eight years. My eyes wandered off as I enjoyed looking at the different types of trees and grasses along the bank. Taylor glanced back at my brother and I, a little smile forming on his lips.

“You guys doing ok back there?” He asked, his eyes shining. Before we could answer, he had casually dipped his paddle in and splashed us in the face. I yelled and laughed and returned the motion as a couple others joined in on the fun.

Daniel told us the next set of rapids, which had a rating of five, was going to be a big one. I expected to be splashed even more than the previous times, but my eyes widened with utter astonishment and excitement as we approached what appeared to be a complete drop off. I squealed and braced myself as we got closer. The dip looked more like a water fall, and my heart began to race. Within seconds we plunged down and were launched back up while the water rushed powerfully around the raft. The sound of the crashing water behind us pounded in my ears. Daniel yelled to us over the noise to paddle hard out of the bowl like cavity that we were in. Pushing and pulling with all my might, I almost despaired as I saw we were not making progress. Daniel yelled and encouraged us more, but our strength seemed powerless against the monstrous current. We kept going around and around. I looked ahead of me as our raft suddenly jerked and in a flash the guy in the front was flung head first into the water. The next thing I remember was the shock of the frigid water on my skin. I gasped and fear gripped me as I realized I was no longer in the protection of the raft. The pressure around me was unbelievable. Immediately, I began removing one of my crocks, which I then tossed into the raft, but before I could reach the other one, it was ripped off my foot. I grabbed the side of the raft and began trying to get in but the current drug me under the raft. The time I was under water seemed endless. I thought my head would strike a rock, or I would be forever stuck underneath while my body was hurled about helplessly. But somehow, several seconds later, I came up with only a slightly bruised leg, thankful that I was still alive. I saw the raft heading down the river, and glimpsed my brother also in the water nearing the rocks on the side. The current was pushing me strongly in the circular pattern, and though already exhausted I knew I had to swim hard to get to the side. It was a wonderful feeling grasping that solid rock, and getting out of the water. My body was shaking with cold and fear. Numbly, I began climbing the steep, rocky riverside that led up to the road.

Slowly, my senses began returning to me, and as I started to feel the sharp rocks beneath my bare feet, I started to realize how thankful I was that God had just spared my life. Later I heard that several people had died in that very spot many times before. As I walked along the gravel road no one was in sight. I didn’t care that my clothes were drenched and my leg bleeding. Soon, I found all the others downstream on the bank with the raft. No one was injured except for some scrapes and bruises. Once again my heart gave a sigh of gratitude to God who had saved us that day. Though now I could choose to stay home and shrink back from adventures, I probably will not. After that day I am convinced that life should be lived to the fullest, and every moment of it valued as a precious gift.

k.e.h.