When the Guide Says This is a Treecky Entrance, Watch Out

July 15, 2006


After one weekend trip with all the kids, Lora wanted to pick a one day adventure. We decided that river rafting would give these energetic wildcats a good workout and a chance to scream. yell, be loud and crazy as much as they wanted. I thought this was a good plan, up to this point.

When we were presented with the choice of the easy or the hard river route, Lora didn{t hesitate. Much to my quaking chagrin, she picked the hard one. Class 3 and 4! rapids.

Since I have never been on a rafting trip, I hate being scared, cry on rollercoasters, and am a general wimp when it comes to surging 220 fear through my 110 wiring, I wasn{t sure if I was going to disgrace myself in front of 6 teenagers and various and assorted hunky guides.

These kids already think I{m ancient. But never one to back down for a challenge, I signed up and went along. After all, it{s what they{re paying me for. Of course, that didn{t stop me for moaning a bit about it. What{s the point of being scared if you can{t complain a little bit.

We got up at 6 00 am for the pleasure of it all, got a taxi and met the bus at a nearby hotel. When we loaded up with another group of teenagers from Buffalo NY. and a couple my age with a 13 year old son, our long haired, glibly bilingual guide told us everything we would need to know about the coming day. Where we wre going, how long it would take, what we would eat, where the bathrooms were, etc. etc. He talked for about 20 minutes. He was pleasantly, and as it turned out, deceptively amusing.

We drove for about 90 minutes over the mountains, through the cloud forest, and down to the Pasquale River. )once more, spelling corrections later). We unloaded ourselves in a big outdoor pavillion where we were served breakfast. It kind of felt like my last meal.

Then back on the bus, down a bumpy gravel road, a 15 minute hike down the bumpy road and I mean straight down, until we came to the river bank.

At the river bank, there was an outfitting truck with all our paddles, life jackets, and bright yellow helmets so we wouldn{t bash our brains out when we crashed into the rocks.

We all put on our gear, the big life jacket making me walk like the Michelin man, and got a lesson in how to basically save your own life, and the lives of your fellow raftees.

In our raft, Lora and Nicki, a young woman traveling through Central America by herself, were in the front, being the bravest and most experienced. Next came the dad and his 13 year old son, and the wife and me bringing up the rear in front of the guide.

We did a little practice paddling, and then we shoved off with instructions to PADDLE TOGETHER, FOLLOW THE LEADERS, LISTEN TO YOUR GUIDE NO MATTER WHAT YOU THINK OF HIS DIRECTIONS. Our guide really did yell all this at us. He had to so we could hear him under our cute little yellow helmets and over the roaring of the first set up rapids.

We plunged right into the first warm up rapids that were only! class 3. That went pretty well. After the first few sets, I felt like I might be able to make it through the day without crying or
ask ing for a helicopter. As I began to relax, I started looking around at where I was with enjoyment, instead of feeling like it was my last day on earth. I{m exaggerating for effect, of course. But only a little.

Here I was river rafting through the Costa Rican rain forest. The trees disappeared on either side of the river bank so high up in the sky you had to lean back to see the tops. Birds of every description flew all around, diving back and forth across the river. We saw gray and white kingfishers, at least 18 inches long,with their forked tail feathers trailing behind like a little contrail, their bright red bellies flashing in the sunlight.

Butterflies of every color floated on the breeze. The beautiful mariposas fluttering like confetti above the water.

And then , FORWARD! FORWARD! FORWARD! STAY TOGETHER! STAY TOGEHTER!
STOOOooooop!! And we had sucessfully negotiated another rapid. And this was just the warm up. The class 4 rapids were all ahead.

I picked the chicken seat in the back of the boat, but I was behind the guy. And this guy wasn{t going to follow the lead of any girls. He wasn{t a very good paddler, didn{t really listen to the guide, directions, and was always out of time with the leaders. Maybe this was why he feel out of the boat in the middle of one of the class 4{s.

To be fair, so did 2 other people in the boat behind us. So while our guide was pulling in those 2 wide eyed teenage girls )not our girls)the rest of us were paddling like crazy, Mr. Macho, looking around at what was going on went right over the side when a giant wave spun us around. We rescued him using our recently learned life saving technique. STick out your paddle or haul them in by the shoulder straps. He was a little shook, and his wife was a little shook and all they wanted to do was Monday morning quarterback his big dunking while in the meantime we were about to hit another big swirling, foaming, roaring patch of water.

SHUT UP AND PADDLE I wanted to yell, and would have, too, if I could have just gotten enough air to yell.

AFter a couple of hours of one rapid after another, by which time I was no longer afraid, cautious, exhilarted, stunned and amazed, but not afraid, we hit a smooth part of the river where we could get out and just float downstream. Not every one did so, but I jumped out of the boat, stuck my feet out in front of me, as intstructed, and just floated in the current under a canopy of neon green, past waterfalls, with the sounds and calls of the jungle birds all around.

Lora joined me, and in a little while, we saw two dear little faces floating towards us under those yellow helmets, grinning from ear to ear. It was Las Sobrinas, the deadly McKee duo of Stephi and Brenna.

When you.re sittting in your living room, imagining that you would go to the Costa Rican rain forest and float in the river through the jungle, it seems too fantastical
to be true. And it seems like it would take
a lot of just plain doing, mentally and physically, to get yourserlf there.

But when your{e actually there, it seems so right and easy, another wonderful place in this beautiful world.

The clouds I could see on the horizon, fullof sunlight and unfallen rain, were the clouds of the planet, not just of this country or that. The singing birds call out in every language.

God dwells above and below, where ever I am, at home or anywhere in the world I might be.

I returned from this fantastic adventure all in one piece, more alive than ever. And I never fell out of the boat, even when we nearly tipped over .

The boat got swirled up against a giant rock and all 7 of us had to cram up against the right side of the boat, roll forward in a 14 limbed human ball and then find our way out of this tangle back to our rowing postions. All without losing our paddles or putting out our team mates eyes with the thing.

When can we go again.?