Class V - Part II

The morning of the trip dawned magnificently. The forecast was for mostly sunny skies and high, wispy clouds with a high in the mid-70s. It was to be a perfect day for rafting.

Arriving at the outfitter's offices a little before 6am, we parked and boarded the modified school bus that would take us to water's edge. Having another hour drive before we were there, I tried to grab one last quick wink of sleep before arriving at the drop-off point. It was nearly impossible after hearing the booming roar of the water.

At the base of Summersville Dam are three large corrugated pipes, each large enough to swallow a semi. From all three gushed enough water to flood a medium-sized town, sending crashing waves down the valley, almost as if the dam itself had broken.

"You've got to be kidding," I said with saucer-sized eyes, my mouth suddenly dry with anxiety. "We're getting into that?" I stuck my head closer to the open bus window and peered at the "headwaters" of the raging torrent. Spray from the violent deluge landed softly on my cheek like gossamer on the wind.

"Ain't it cool?" said Akers with a smile as large as the waves we looked at.

"Yea, cool," I replied. But I didn't mean it. I was nervous and the quiver in my voice probably belied the fact that I was less than enthused about his choice of rivers.

We donned our orange life preservers and helped pick up our raft. It was a 20-foot long, black rubber raft with three tubes that ran cross-wise through the middle, dividing the raft into four sections. It seemed to weigh about 200 pounds, but with 10 of us it seemed relatively light.

We put the raft into the water and Tom, our guide for the day, lashed two large, red plastic coolers into it. These contained our lunch and some wet bags filled with camera equipment for recording our trip.

Once in the water, Tom guided the raft to an eddy, a small pool which had a current running opposite to the violent current going downstream. There he versed us in his commands for the day.

"If I say right full, that means only the right side paddles, left side rests" he shouted above the din. "If I say left back, that means only the left side paddles back, right side rests. If I say all full, all of you put your paddles in the water and go like there's no tomorrow."

I looked over at Akers, who was sitting next to me in the front row. He was wearing a pair of Hawaiian-style swim trunks and under his life vest a Myrtle Beach t-shirt I'd bought him the year before. "Old news," he mouthed. I nodded my agreement and continued to listen.

"We will hit some rapids today that could flip us over," Tom continued. "If we get too high on one side, EVERYONE needs to lean into the high side. Does everyone understand that?"

I turned halfway around and looked at Marc and dad, who were in the seats right behind Akers and me. They both nodded, assuring me that they did. Marc was not a newcomer to the rafting experience, either, but dad was. He'd been canoeing and such before, but he'd never been on a rubber raft in the middle of a world-class river. I wasn't worried in the least. He was an athlete.

"Let's do some practice then," shouted Tom. "All full!" Scrambling to get going, we all dug our paddles into the water and paddled hard. Breaking free of the eddy that gripped us only took about three seconds and Tom shouted, "All rest!"

We floated backwards down the current for a little while, watching the dam and its violent emission disappear slowly into the distance. Tom turned the raft using his over-sized paddle as a rudder and we headed down the river toward the first Class V rapid most of us had ever seen.