Agonizing_Gas
Shared on Fri, 09/08/2006 - 01:05... kinda like Triple Kill, only less glorious. Three in a day though is pretty good for me.
Just wanted to give the back story on my near death experience that I mentioned in the Dante's inferno and Captain Kirk post. I'll try to make it short, as I tend to be a bit long winded when it comes to story telling. Must be where I got the name Gas.
I'm not sure of the date now, but I have it written in a journal which is boxed up somewhere at the moment. It was a day in April of 2001. April is right, the year might be wrong. I was working at Kinko's in Missoula, Montana, and we had decided to do a team building exercise by going rafting. I think nearly the entire store went, fitting 8 or so in each of the three rafts we occupied, plus one guide from a company that did this on a regular basis.
The river was the Lochsa, and it flows down the mountains into Idaho from the Montana border along side Highway 12. In April, the river is really going, as the spring run-off is still strong, as snow is still melting off quite quickly. There's a Toyota commercial that used to be out a while back, where the guys stand on the side of the river looking at the Class 5 rapids that they were once stoked about taking on. After seeing it, they decide a lower class of rapid might be in order. Little did we know, we were headed for some of those Class 5's ourselves.
We had lifejackets and wetsuits (the water was still damn cold, ranging in the 40's if I recall), and the main instruction we received before entering the water was to make sure that we help onto our paddles if anything happened and you fell out of the boat. It'd be hard to navigate without paddles, so make sure you kept it. Check. The other instruction was to do as the guide said. Another easy check. The trip down the river was fun. We took on rapids, paddled as a team, kept everyone on board. Our raft was the second of the three in the caravan.
Towards the end of the day, we came to the largest rapids that we'd see on our stretch of the river. I think there were three or four main ones, and we went through the first couple like a group of old pros. On the one that changed my life, our guide decided not to follow the raft in front of us. They had skirted around the main part of the rapid, still enjoying some good bumps. Our raft went straight into it, with the ass end wanting to lead the way. We went over a 10-foot drop with the raft headed down stream at about a 45-degree angle. Dead ahead, though a little to the left, was a 10-foot wall of water that came down on the left front of the boat. The pressure from the water coming down and the angle of the boat heading down the drop created the perfect condition to flip the boat and empty its passengers into the water.
One second I was looking up to the left, seeing what looked like a mountain of water bearing down on us, the next I was in the water, completely submerged. I opened my eyes trying to get my barings. All I saw was white and green swirled together as the water in the distance was pushed out of focus by the white bubbles and swirls of the rapids. The light seemed to have no real source, and I had no idea which way I was facing. Kicking my feet, I flailed my legs looking for something to push off of to try to reach the surface. No luck, nothing to kick but water. The river was too deep for me to figure much out, so I just started to swim, hoping I was going the right way.
As I was swimming, time slowed to a crawl. I remember thinking about how my life jacket, a flotation device, didn't work worth a shit. I remember the ring that my brother gave me sliding off the ring finger on my right hand. I remember making a circle with my thumb and ring finger, catching the ring, thinking that if I was going to die, I was going to die with the ring on my finger, and I used my thumb to push the ring back to the base of my finger. Finally, a breath, i broke the surface as started to inhale. Before I was finished taking in my first breath, water started to fill my mouth, I was back under.
My mind said that this was my last push. Now or never. Exhausted, I gave everything I had, kicking and clawing, I tried again to make it to the surface. Doubt flooded in brain as my lungs screamed for more air. Suddenly at the surface I coughed out the water I had taken in and took in a quick breath. Then another. I'd stayed afloat. I'd made it to the edge of the rapids and into calm but fast moving water. The edge of the river looked like it was a mile away. I started to swim.
"HELP!!" A female voice. I turned around to see a coworker's panic-stricken face staring in my direction, wide eyes begging me to help her. The current was carrying her downstream quickly. I swam back a little, and amazed myself when I realized I still had the damn oar in my left hand. I put it in my right hand, and extended out towards my friend, missing her reach by several feet. She again screamed for help, and I looked at her, knowing it was either save myself or possibly lose both of us. I heard myself say "I can't" and turned back towards the rocky edge of the river.
As I swam, I was certain that I'd never see her again. Guilt was already burying itself in me. My arms and legs were exhausted, feeling like warm rubber, and they seemed equally effective. Slowly I made my way. Finally my feet touched some rocks and I knew that I had made it.
After getting out of the water, I looked back at the river, looking for my friend. I didn't see her, but I saw others still swimming and making their way to safety. The girl was safely picked up by the first raft, the one ahead of us. They took her to the shore and she did not get back into a raft that day. Everyone else had made it out safely. No one was injured, no one was lost. We climbed into the raft and discovered that I was the only one with a paddle. Everyone else had lost theirs. After borrowing a few oars from the other boats, we headed on down stream.
The rest of the trip on the river was uneventful. We went over some slight rapids, but they were cake compared to the ones we had gone through. The day seemed to glow. The trees were a green that I'd never noticed before, and the area was the most beautiful place I had ever seen. I had been convinced that I was done. The last push, I thought, was what I had expected to be the end. I had accepted my fate and was still confused about how I made it. Life is delicate. Life is short. And life is an amazing gift.
Just wanted to give the back story on my near death experience that I mentioned in the Dante's inferno and Captain Kirk post. I'll try to make it short, as I tend to be a bit long winded when it comes to story telling. Must be where I got the name Gas.
I'm not sure of the date now, but I have it written in a journal which is boxed up somewhere at the moment. It was a day in April of 2001. April is right, the year might be wrong. I was working at Kinko's in Missoula, Montana, and we had decided to do a team building exercise by going rafting. I think nearly the entire store went, fitting 8 or so in each of the three rafts we occupied, plus one guide from a company that did this on a regular basis.
The river was the Lochsa, and it flows down the mountains into Idaho from the Montana border along side Highway 12. In April, the river is really going, as the spring run-off is still strong, as snow is still melting off quite quickly. There's a Toyota commercial that used to be out a while back, where the guys stand on the side of the river looking at the Class 5 rapids that they were once stoked about taking on. After seeing it, they decide a lower class of rapid might be in order. Little did we know, we were headed for some of those Class 5's ourselves.
We had lifejackets and wetsuits (the water was still damn cold, ranging in the 40's if I recall), and the main instruction we received before entering the water was to make sure that we help onto our paddles if anything happened and you fell out of the boat. It'd be hard to navigate without paddles, so make sure you kept it. Check. The other instruction was to do as the guide said. Another easy check. The trip down the river was fun. We took on rapids, paddled as a team, kept everyone on board. Our raft was the second of the three in the caravan.
Towards the end of the day, we came to the largest rapids that we'd see on our stretch of the river. I think there were three or four main ones, and we went through the first couple like a group of old pros. On the one that changed my life, our guide decided not to follow the raft in front of us. They had skirted around the main part of the rapid, still enjoying some good bumps. Our raft went straight into it, with the ass end wanting to lead the way. We went over a 10-foot drop with the raft headed down stream at about a 45-degree angle. Dead ahead, though a little to the left, was a 10-foot wall of water that came down on the left front of the boat. The pressure from the water coming down and the angle of the boat heading down the drop created the perfect condition to flip the boat and empty its passengers into the water.
One second I was looking up to the left, seeing what looked like a mountain of water bearing down on us, the next I was in the water, completely submerged. I opened my eyes trying to get my barings. All I saw was white and green swirled together as the water in the distance was pushed out of focus by the white bubbles and swirls of the rapids. The light seemed to have no real source, and I had no idea which way I was facing. Kicking my feet, I flailed my legs looking for something to push off of to try to reach the surface. No luck, nothing to kick but water. The river was too deep for me to figure much out, so I just started to swim, hoping I was going the right way.
As I was swimming, time slowed to a crawl. I remember thinking about how my life jacket, a flotation device, didn't work worth a shit. I remember the ring that my brother gave me sliding off the ring finger on my right hand. I remember making a circle with my thumb and ring finger, catching the ring, thinking that if I was going to die, I was going to die with the ring on my finger, and I used my thumb to push the ring back to the base of my finger. Finally, a breath, i broke the surface as started to inhale. Before I was finished taking in my first breath, water started to fill my mouth, I was back under.
My mind said that this was my last push. Now or never. Exhausted, I gave everything I had, kicking and clawing, I tried again to make it to the surface. Doubt flooded in brain as my lungs screamed for more air. Suddenly at the surface I coughed out the water I had taken in and took in a quick breath. Then another. I'd stayed afloat. I'd made it to the edge of the rapids and into calm but fast moving water. The edge of the river looked like it was a mile away. I started to swim.
"HELP!!" A female voice. I turned around to see a coworker's panic-stricken face staring in my direction, wide eyes begging me to help her. The current was carrying her downstream quickly. I swam back a little, and amazed myself when I realized I still had the damn oar in my left hand. I put it in my right hand, and extended out towards my friend, missing her reach by several feet. She again screamed for help, and I looked at her, knowing it was either save myself or possibly lose both of us. I heard myself say "I can't" and turned back towards the rocky edge of the river.
As I swam, I was certain that I'd never see her again. Guilt was already burying itself in me. My arms and legs were exhausted, feeling like warm rubber, and they seemed equally effective. Slowly I made my way. Finally my feet touched some rocks and I knew that I had made it.
After getting out of the water, I looked back at the river, looking for my friend. I didn't see her, but I saw others still swimming and making their way to safety. The girl was safely picked up by the first raft, the one ahead of us. They took her to the shore and she did not get back into a raft that day. Everyone else had made it out safely. No one was injured, no one was lost. We climbed into the raft and discovered that I was the only one with a paddle. Everyone else had lost theirs. After borrowing a few oars from the other boats, we headed on down stream.
The rest of the trip on the river was uneventful. We went over some slight rapids, but they were cake compared to the ones we had gone through. The day seemed to glow. The trees were a green that I'd never noticed before, and the area was the most beautiful place I had ever seen. I had been convinced that I was done. The last push, I thought, was what I had expected to be the end. I had accepted my fate and was still confused about how I made it. Life is delicate. Life is short. And life is an amazing gift.
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