Moreover, it’s amazing what these professional athletes can do on the field, court, or ring. But could they do it when their life is on the line? When the tiniest of mistakes doesn’t equate to a dropped ball or a missed point or goal. But, quite possibly, results in you confronting your own mortality. Well, I did it that day without incident. And I kept doing it, too.
Kayaking Great Falls. About two dozen times, I guess. Until it almost seemed easy to me. Almost mundane. Like driving to work everyday. Or just another day at the office. But inside, I might’ve been losing just a fragment of my passion for the sport. Which was my edge. My mental preparedness. Or perhaps, and this is just the plain truth.
There’s just a lot of randomness involved in the world of whitewater kayaking.
Because nothing seemed different that unforgettable day than any other day that I’d kayaked Great Falls. In fact, I was feeling great, like the falls. E.B., H.H., and I had already portaged our kayaks over the Flake to a place on the shore just above Sunburst. And now, we all sat down on our kayaks, resting on the rocky Maryland shoreline, catching our collective breath for a bit before our inevitable descent of the falls.
H.H. was first to go. He was the top dog, for sure. Next, it was E.B. And I knew that they’d both been successful, cause I could see them below, giving me the paddles up signal.
Yo G, what are you waiting for?
And so, I got in my kayak, pushed off the shore, and paddled forward in the fast current, as the falls fast approached. No worries, I thought, as this was going to be, perhaps, my 25th descent of the falls.
But close to the edge of the falls, something went wrong. And all of your mistakes get magnified in a split second.
Slightly off line. The currents pushed my kayak away from the launching pad. Hard left. G0dd#$mit! But the train cannot be stopped.
In an instant, my kayak tilted downward and cascaded nose first, nearly vertical on the curtain of the falls. Plunging into the treacherous hole below.
My kayak back endered at the base of the falls and was simultaneously pushed to the extreme left side of the cascade. And finally, it tilted over top of me, upside down.
Then, there was an inexorable pull, as if the entire dark energy of the universe was drawing me backwards into a bottomless hole. The deafening roar of whitewater drowned out all else. And brightness faded to dark.
WTF?
I tried a roll to upright my kayak. And another. But something was preventing me from even extending my arm. Hell, I couldn’t even find any resistance on the surface of the water.
Christ!
It’s all instinct now. No right or wrong. Just do whatever to survive.
And I sense that I’m behind the curtain of the falls. A raging wall of water separates me from my friends, my family, society, and life itself. In short, I was trapped in an airless vacuum, caught somewhere between life and death.
You don’t want to do this. EVER! I pulled my spray skirt. And was immediately ripped from my kayak by the current, as if a giant Croc had snatched me right out of it.
My paddle was gone. Except that I felt it, once, as the blade chopped into my left hand, nearly breaking it in the insane currents. My body arched and contorted, flushed around and round. The sound of jet engines drowned out everything. But in this maelstrom of whitewater chaos and violence, my mind was still clear. And decidedly focused and calm.
I was in a double hydraulic. And sometimes, they’ll kill you. But sometimes, they won’t. Three to seven seconds in one, feels like a lifetime. But maybe, it was ten, or fifteen…
Then, I was crushed down. As if an entire building had collapsed on me.
This was my chance. The chance that I’d been hoping for. As a double hydraulic is sideways Figure 8 of churning recirculating aerated whitewater. And once you’re caught in the unrelenting currents of one. You cannot surface. But, in the center of the sideways “8”, the sheet, or curtain, of whitewater from the falls, plunges through to the river bottom (you hope). Creating a last ditch current, or avenue, of escape.
And so, I swam down with it.
Go with the flow. And keep swimming down towards total darkness. By God, I wanted to touch the bottom of the river with my hand..
But it’s hard to do that. You know. Cause your lungs are burning and screaming for air. No, I couldn’t hold my breath for much longer. More than anything, I just wanted a breath of air. I’d reached my limit. Couldn’t go any deeper.
But maybe, just maybe… The river–she’d let me go. Set me free to romp on land and bask in the sun, once again. And, by the grace of God, she did that day. Yes, I’d gone deep enough.
And soon felt myself being pushed along in the current, buried somewhere beneath the deadly waters of the Potomac. Gray brown water.
Suddenly, though, my body collided hard with an immovable object. And I was instantaneously flattened with my back plastered against a solid rock wall. While, the full force of the current blasted face-first into me, violently shaking and pinning me there with the strength of a thousand men, it seemed.
And it was like being pinned against the walls of one of those old-time round up rides at an amusement park, which goes around so fast that you get jammed with your back against the wall by the force of gravity.
But here, literally, the full force of the falls and all of the power and glory of its raging waters had glued me underwater to this massive stone.
Never say die.
Was it all over?
A second passed.
Another.
Grace under pressure…
And try exhaling all your breath. Do it now. Now try seeing how long you’ll last…
Well, that was far less than the time I had left.
Except, I noticed something in a perfect state of grace.
Gary Alan
After a long career in the publishing industry, Gary Alan left his corporate job to pursue his next adventures in life as a blogger, writer, investor, fly fisherman, hiker, and traveler. He is the author of the adventure fiction book, 'Big Thunder-Hearted River'.