Just Around The River Bend

It has been 11,520 minutes (8 days) since the day on the river. The memory makes me chuckle and cringe at the same time. The story begins with two childhood friends.

In January of this year, Jenny and I decided it would be fun to go canoeing on the river during the summer. She arrived at my house Friday evening and we excitedly made plans for our expedition the following day. If we had known then what we quickly found upon launching the canoe, we would have stayed home and watched reruns of Gilligan's Island.

Saturday morning dawned rainy and cool. We decided to head out anyway. A little rain can't hurt, right? We arrived at the canoe rental place during a torrential downpour and waited till the precipitation slacked off before going to the river. The rental place was, umm, strange, to say the least. It was an old church camp that had seen better days. Jenny and I were the only two people who showed up to canoe (everyone else was smart and stayed inside). We climbed into a rusted out van for the ride to the river. I mumbled to Jenny that I hoped we weren't being taken off to be killed. Jenny chuckled then went a little pale when she spied an ax between the front seats. No joke--there was a real ax and a pile of rope.

The lady who owned the camp and one of her employees put the canoe in the river (it was still raining, I might add, and would continue to rain the ENTIRE time). She handed us life jackets, and departed with these words of warning, "If it starts to lightning, make sure you get out of the canoe and head for shore." She said this as she was driving away. As the van left our view, there was a clap of thunder. Jenny and I looked at each other in dismay. We were miles from nowhere so there was nothing to do but set out and pray for the best.

Within five minutes of floating down river, we came to a rock ledge (small waterfall, actually) and began to tip. I hopped out of the canoe, losing my paddle in the process, and pulled the boat to shore. Jenny climbed out, too, and had her flip-flops sucked off by the current. I walked downstream and spotted the paddle jammed under a log. We were relieved and bravely walked across the river clinging to each other to retrieve it. The whole process took at least thirty minutes. Jenny and I were feeling pretty good about our outdoor skills by that time and were certain nothing worse would happen. Pride goeth before a fall is all I have to say about that.

We shoved off from shore and enjoyed a few minutes of relative calm. The water was smooth and the rain had eased up a bit. The area had been in somewhat of a drought all summer so the water was low which made us drag bottom every ten feet it seemed. I would stick one leg out and push us along since paddling didn't do any good. If anyone was watching, they were getting their entertainment for the day, that's for sure!

The camp lady had told us that the halfway point would be a sunken bridge and beyond that about 1,000 yards would be the end of the six mile journey. Jenny and I saw the sunken bridge up ahead and remembered that we were to paddle to the left of it. We did exactly as we had been told. However, the sunken bridge was really not all that sunken due to the drought. It was an even larger waterfall/drop-off than the first time we almost tipped. The canoe came to rest on a piece of concrete of the "sunken" bridge and began to tip...big time. I vaguely remember telling Jenny, "I think we aren't going to make it! Just jump out!". The canoe tipped and we fell out in water over our heads. We managed to grab the canoe and swim with it to the shallows to bail the water it had taken on. By this time, Jenny and I were realizing that the journey was not getting easier, only worse.

We figured that we would not have much more to go. I mean, 1,000 yards, how far could that really be? We paddled a while longer and the river became much curvier and was absolutely covered in downed trees from past storms and floods. We decided to break for lunch at a sandbar when we came upon a tree across the water with a root ball as tall as the Empire State Building. There was approximately three feet of open water to canoe around the tree. We ate turkey sandwiches, chips, and brownies while we contemplated our next move. A group of three canoes finally came by (it was uplifting to see fellow human beings) and we watched them paddle around the tree. They managed just fine, so it increased our courage enough to give it a try. As we were getting ready to climb back in the canoe, I spied a soggy Bible on the sandbar. It was open to the Psalms. We should have taken that as a sign to come. We maneuvered the Empire State root ball with ease and were actually able to enjoy a smooth patch of river. We saw some beautiful flowers and a heron.

Those were the last peaceful moments we would have on that dreadful river.

The current began to get swifter as we entered the area of river with trees down every few yards. When I canoe, I would like to be on water, not bark and leaves, just saying.

We came to a section with a tree spanning practically the entire river. We didn't stand a chance. The current sucked us right into the tree, the canoe flipped, Jenny went under, and we lost every item (except the cooler) we had brought along. I remember seeing the waterproof disposable camera, Jenny's baseball cap, and a lime green Tupperware water bottle floating downstream at a high rate of speed. By that time, Jenny had managed to stand up but was coughing and spluttering because she had swallowed water. By the way, the canoe sunk. Yep, to the bottom of the river where it landed on the tree that flipped us out. The tree was massive. I commented that I had no clue there were Sequoias in Tennessee.

I managed to hang on to the canoe which made the current calmer where I was standing because the water went around the canoe. Jenny, on the other hand, was really struggling. The current was incredibly swift and about waist deep on me. On Jenny, who is much shorter, it was almost impossible to stand up. She was very brave and tried to walk to shore but the current kept knocking her down. After fifteen minutes, she managed to walk around the end of the canoe and get behind me where it was slightly calmer. Fish began nibbling at her shoeless feet and I could sense fear in her voice when she said, "Holly, we really need to get out of this river." We had been standing in the middle of the river for about thirty minutes by that time. I agreed and felt sick that we had lost the canoe. I decided to try to get it to shore as a last ditch effort. I let the current catch the canoe, dragging me to my knees. When I regained my footing, I pulled as hard as I could and began inching the canoe to shore while it was still underwater. Jenny walked behind me to keep from getting knocked over again. I looked up and realized that we had made it to shore...with the sunken canoe!

I stood there in shock until Jenny said, "Whoa! You are Wonder Woman!". Jenny sat down on shore on a tree branch since she did not have shoes while I wandered around looking for a way out. The ordeal had seriously shaken us both and we did not relish the thought of continuing up river not knowing what was ahead. At first I thought I could climb up the bank and go for help, but then I realized, there was no bank! Years of flooding had completely washed it out. About fifteen feet straight up where the bank should have been , there were a bunch of knarled tree roots sticking out. I briefly considered trying to clamber up and grab ahold of them, but then the thought of all the water moccasins housed within them brought me back to reality. I returned to Jenny and reported that we could not have climbed out if we were mountain goats. We sat on shore for 45 minutes on the verge of despair. I prayed for the Lord to either send a cell signal for my phone or a group of people. Five minutes later, the group of three canoes we had met earlier showed up. I had never been so relieved in all my life! Two of the guys came over and dumped the water out of the canoe like it was a Dixie Cup (it literally had to weigh at least 300 lbs.) They were impressed that I had managed to pull it to shore. I muttered something about taking up cake decorating if I survived the ordeal. A few minutes later, another group came floating by in canoes and kayaks. They made it beyond the tree, but one man and his two little girls ended up going backwards for several yards. Jenny and I were still unsure about setting out again. One of the men who helped dump the canoe, came back around the corner and said that he would walk us through the next bad spot up ahead where another tree was down causing dangerous current. We thanked him profusely. He saved us twice.

Jenny and I came across several more places that were scary, but we did not tip over. We stopped at another bank because the water looked rough. Thankfully, a kayaker came by and yelled to us from across the river that he would paddle through and holler back if it was bad. He gave us the okay to continue. I was complaining about the lack of mile markers along the river and Jenny said that she would never step foot in a canoe again. We were exhausted, sore, and worn out from the fear of the unknown. Finally, about ten minutes after the kayaker came along, we sighted the campground. We rammed the canoe onto the beach, jumped out, and I nearly fell to the ground to kiss the dirt. Jenny commented that she was thankful I had stayed so calm because it helped her not lose it. I told her that looks could be deceiving, as my hands were shaking and I wanted to throw up from the fear and utter exhaustion. We changed into dry clothes after informing one of the campground owners of the treacherous river conditions. He just commented, "Really? Well, I'll be. Y'all come back." I wanted to shake him and yell, "We nearly drowned! I should have left your stupid canoe at the bottom of the river!". But I didn't. I just smiled and muttered under my breath to Jenny, "Yeah right! I will never put a toe in that river again." I have since come to the conclusion that if it had been left up to me, the New World would have never been discovered.

Upon returning to town, we ordered a sausage pizza, came home, watched a movie (Tangled), and collapsed in bed. I could have slept for days. Sunday morning, we were so sore we could barely stand up. Jenny was bruised and I couldn't raise my arms above my head. We were broke, battered, and busted. Even though we were pleasantly surprised at our ability to remain calm and think clearly in a dangerous situation, before Jenny left to return to her home, we agreed that her next visit would be comprised of a shopping trip, restaurant, and a movie.

Lewis and Clark, eat your hearts out. :)