Monday, October 15, 2012

"Adventure is at Hand" Final Chapter


Book One: "Adventure is at Hand: June 29-July 1, 2012"
Final Chapter
The Struggle

Our only other option is to continue the 14-16 miles of shallow waters and with minimal food left. We talk to the owner of the grounds. He suggested we head up river about a mile and there is a nice camp area on the right. Once we arrive at this clearing on the right of the river, John and I immediately start to set up our camp. He sets up his tent and I set up my hammock sleep system in full force. The rain fly, bug net, lights, and the hammock of course. Tonight is going to be great. We get the fire going and take a nice hour or so of relaxation in the river swimming and sitting. I am feeling itchy, maybe a rash from the river water, my wilderness soap doesn’t seem to help since I am washing in the same water that probably gave it to me. I am a little miserable though.

 The fire has died at this point and it is hard to keep lit due to the wet leaves and wood around, we get all the dry kindling we see. The last of our food is some corn chips and cheese which is melted on top using the fire. We quench our thirst with filtered water from the river and get into our shelters. My air pad keeps the chill of the night off my back and a more comfortable sleep in the hammock. A good night’s rest is ahead.
Waking up to the sound of Blue Heron mating calls is not very pleasant, especially when it goes on forever and ever when you’re dead tired.  We slowly get up and out of our sleeping bags and out into the morning sun. It’s a slow start and hopefully our last day out here, since we are now without food and I have a vacation to get to and a Beach Boys concert I am not missing.

The day goes on and on and on. Our bodies are dehydrated and lacking energy. The calories burned off are not being replaced and it takes all we have to push forward. There are some nice rapids along the way, a lot of still deep water and a lot of shallow water too. The still water seems like we are going backwards and the shallow kills us even more. Scooting, dragging the kayak, whatever to get it going. We both almost flipped at different points due to frustration and weakness.

The water rushes in, the weight pulls me down into the rushing water. I get out of my craft and hold on to it. I guide it onto a nearby rock and start to empty it. John helps catch some of the items that have floated out. I want to give up, but I fight my deprived body and push on. We get a little rest and paddle on yet again, never ending.

The water is calm for a while and in the distance you can hear more rapids coming up. All of a sudden a momma deer and her fawn cross the water, heron fly above, the sky is beautiful and it is like a scene from a Nat Geo calendar. This was the push we needed. God gave us that assurance then and there that everything will be just fine.

We begin to see life again. People fishing, swimming, and canoeing. We ask them where we were and for some reason, none of them knew. It was like bizarro world. My back begins to hurt, the discs slowly slipping out again, this could be the beginning of the end. I struggle through the pain. One person says we are about a mile or so from the end. Calories depleted, starving almost we are thirsty for that finish line. But it doesn’t come. What is going on!? Where is the end? Another person says about a mile. Hold on, the last person said about a mile. So we paddle some more and some more. Still no landing.

Then it came. At first it was disbelief, we can’t be here, is this it. Delusional, I question if this is the right spot, even though I have been here tons of times with Joe. Sure enough it is. We glide up to the landing and look up to the steep incline of the launch site and dread what is to come, but this is the end.

The boats gather more battle scars on their bellies as we drag them up the launch. We reach pavement and literally crash right there. People are having to step over us but we apologize and explain what we just went through. John calls his dad and I pass out. I am awakened with two ice cold Gatorades on my sweaty chest and thank God for this blessing. A fellow adventurer spared four drinks for John and I to get a pick me up. Finally our ride arrives but we are not home yet. We have to go get the Jeep at our original finish line and then pack that.

After the Jeep is packed, we rush to Five Guys and get a huge burger and have a feast fit for a king, at least it was to us. Nothing has tasted so good. Yet again, the trip is far from over. Another 35 minute drive back to the starting point to get the Silverado, I have been worried about that the whole time too in that storm because it was parked under trees, but only a limb invades the bed of the truck. Dad will be glad it’s safe. John and I part ways and I head the hour back to my house where I can finally get that shower and packed for the beach trip. Upon my return, I get a closer and clearer headed look at my body and discover that what I thought was a miserable rash turned out to be the most uncomfortable month of my life with head to toe poison ivy. I ended up having to take steroids for 3 weeks to help the healing, along with calamine lotion. Nothing helped the itch and discomfort except for sleep.

Thank God we both made it home safely and for a great adventure with many stories to tell, with more stories to come in the future.