Surviving the Penobscot: Swimming in Class V Rapids

**Disclaimer- As with all my blogs, everything stated are my own thoughts, feelings, and opinions. The following are my raw thoughts, feelings, and gut reactions; completely un-exaggerated. 

PROLOGUE:

I have a set group of friends dubbed the Tuesday Night Dinner Crew because we get together on Tuesday nights for dinner, rotating whose house we go to.  Most of the TND crew are all co-workers at the same job. The rest of us are the "guests" of said co-workers. We are all transplanted from Connecticut and being that we didn't know anyone else, we started having someone over for dinner, in hopes of making friends. That has grown into a large group of 12-14 on a weekly basis. It's a diverse crowd and I love them. :) Our weekly dinners are the highlight of my week! :) We don't just hang out on Tuesday nights. There have been some weeks that we've hung out 3 different times in one week.

A couple of people from TND decided to plan a white water rafting trip last year. We couldn't attend because we'd just had our baby but we planned on going the next time. A year later, and here we find ourselves preparing for rafting on the 3rd most technically difficult river in the country; the Penobscot River in Maine. That river proudly boasts two Class V rapids. (For those that don't know what V stands for, it's roman numerals for 5.)

I was sooo excited the entire time of planning but found myself getting more and more nervous (ok, scared) as the time drew closer. By the morning of, I was kinda quiet, my stomach in knots, and slightly nauseated from the nerves. We were given our wet suits, helmets, life vests, paddles, a short survival technique tutorial and were on our way.

(Above picture: Our group of rafters just before we walked to the site. Not shown: Abbey while she takes the photo.)

(Above picture: my husband and I after getting into all our gear. I'm already a ball of nerves by this point.)

Once in the boat, we learned some basic rafting commands like All Ahead, All Back, Left Ahead, Left Back, Right Ahead, Right Back, Stop, and Dig.

The first rapid we encountered was a Class IV (4) waterfall that was a 13 foot drop. Our boat was 16 feet long so our guide said theoretically, we shouldn't tip.

NOT TRUE. 

We went down the rapid, heard the call for DIG and paddled our little hearts out. (Did I mention our boat was full of BEGINNERS??!!) From what our friends described, the back of the boat was sucked in, the front lifted up into the air, and row by row, the people fell back onto one another like a domino effect. We all fell into the waterfall. It was a minute or so before I popped up. I got caught in the current of the waterfall, tumbling around underwater. I thought I was going to run out of air before I popped up. Amazingly enough, I did remember to hold onto my paddle (dully instructed if you were to fall in). I popped up panicked but saw my friend's dad calmly floating on his back with his feet up and I remembered that's what I was told to do if I fell in. So we floated until our guide yelled for us to swim back to the boat. It's considered a Class IV (4) rapid without consequence. That means that there was calm enough water that we were able to swim back to the boat. Our guide told us the thought was to start out with that rapid so that if someone freaks out, they can take them right back to shore before the REAL rapids start. "Oh great, dump them in the waterfall and give them nightmares." as the rest of my crew laughs at my joke. "No Cristine, that's just you." my friend joked right back. Little did she know... but more about that later...

We were all cold from the wind chill and slightly scared, I think. I know I certainly was! The rapids seemed to build in intensity as we went and by the time lunch time came, I was terrified. I didn't know if I wanted to go for the second half of the rafting. My friend's dad and his dad's girlfriend (who have been rafting before) decided they were tired and didn't want to go on the second half. He's a big guy and was the lead on our boat! If he doesn't want to go, I shouldn't go! I'm about 110 pounds soaking wet!! He said they were tired and he knew they needed strength to paddle through those Class V rapids ("They're INN- TINSE!" he said in his Indiana drawl), plus he thought the boat would be dumped at least 2 more times and he didn't want to go "swimming" in that water! My husband and friend were telling me to stay on shore if I was doubting myself. My other friends were using the ever effective tactic of peer pressure, albeit lovingly; "You came all this way, You paid all that money, You can do it, You need about as much strength and endurance as you did to birth a baby." I looked right at the guide and loudly proclaimed: I will birth 15 babies right now, on the spot, if you can just promise me I won't fall out of the boat.

I debated right until the very last second.

I was gonna do it. My reasons for doing so weren't good at all but I was gonna do it.

My reasons:

• I did come all this way. 
• I did pay all this money. 
• I'll be mad at myself for chickening out if it really wasn't that bad. 
• I don't wanna be labeled as the chicken of the group. 
• If my 65 year old patient can go white water rafting with her grandkids, I can do it. 
• If she can do it, I can do it. 
• I'll feel really good about myself for overcoming my fear. 
• Anthony was going. I didn't want anything to happen to him and not know. 
• If I go, at least I'd be right there in the thick of things and know exactly what's going on with my husband. 

Like I said, stupid stupid reasons.

We're carrying the boat to the launch site and our guide says, "You guys have to paddle paddle paddle! If you all quit and don't paddle through the rapid, I AM F***ED!" Hmmm, nice. Great way to motivate the team. The water level was much higher and fiercer than normal. Our guide said it was 3200 cfs. I didn't know what that meant so he said 3200 cubic feet per second. Imagine 3200 basketballs being pelted at you all at once. That's the sheer force of the water.

The launch site was much more difficult than normal. Apparently there was more rushing water than usual so instead of having a practice period to go over all our commands again, we were immediately thrust into Class IV (4) rapids. If you knew me, you'd know I don't really swear. The only way I can think to describe exactly how I felt is to say

I was SCARED. OUT. OF. MY. MIND.

I was scared sh**less. I was terrified that the sheer force of the waves pounding us would be enough to knock us out of the boat. As soon as I had that thought, I grabbed the rope for support. We made it through those rapids with our guide cheering and shouting ALL AHEAD. I continued to paddle with everyone else even shouting his commands so everyone in front could hear. I was told that night, nobody in front could even hear what the guide was shouting. 

I had only been looking down while I paddle and I looked up. What lied ahead was a sight to see. 

ROARING RAPIDS. 

RUSHING WATER EVERY WHICH WAY. 

ROCKS JUTTING OUT EVERYWHERE.

ALL AHEAD! our guide shouts. DIG DIG DIG DIG DIG! I'm trying, I'm trying. I'm terrified! I see a huge wave coming. Forget this, I'm grabbing the rope!! 

(Above picture: I am in the back near the guide diving for the rope. As you can see, the force of the wave was enough to come and scoop out the 3 guys in front. The one in front of me is my husband Anthony.)

Little did I know that that wave had already taken out the first three people in our boat, two of whom were of "Leaders," meaning they were in front and we were supposed to follow them paddling. Before I could even get a good hold on that support rope, the right side of the boat lifted and the entire crew (minus the guide) was "dump trucked" into the Class V rapids. 

(Above picture: all of our feet sticking straight up in the air as we fell into the Class V rapids.)

The only other girl on the boat popped up close enough to be pulled in. When I popped up, the guide was shouting GRAB MY PADDLE! GRAB MY PADDLE! He knew how terrified I was. He put me in the back of the boat so he "could watch me" as he put it. As I frantically reached for his paddle, I kept thinking, he's pale and looks stricken. If HE looks like that, this MUST be bad. 

(Above picture: the guide extending his paddle as I frantically swim to reach it. I didn't know at the time that my husband and our friend were behind me.)

I grabbed the T shape of the paddle but didn't have a strong hold. We were separated by the many currents. I looked forward and saw a gigantic rock and thought, I'm going to slam into this rock and be crushed by the pounding water on my back. 

(Above picture: separated from the guide in a matter of seconds, I was thrown up against the rock. The picture was taken before my husband, our friend, and I got separated by the currents. Not shown: the guide blowing the emergency whistle)

I didn't slam into it too hard (thankfully) but the water did pound my back. I can't stay here. I didn't have a choice. The water rushed me away. I was pushed down by the current and hit so many rocks. SO. MANY. ROCKS. I finally popped up and you're first instinct is to tread water. You CAN'T tread water. There are too many currents and you'll be sucked back down again. You have to float on your back and attempt to keep your nose and toes above water. I saw bystanders on the shore watching us, I saw a professional photographer. I'm thinking HELP ME! HELP ME! HELP ME! 

I remember thinking, "Jeez, all these people look the same: stricken. This must be bad." I hear a gurgling and someone gurgling my name, "CRIS *bluubbb gurrrgggggg*" I look to my left and there's my husband, drowning next to me, not even 3 feet away, reaching his arm to me. And I can't save him. I can't even save myself. Once you're dumped into the rapids, it's every man for himself. You can barely even attempt the few survival tactics they teach you, let alone try and save someone else. You'll end up killing both of you. 

I look and in front of me, not even 2 feet, maybe a little less, is shallow water right up on the shoreline. I can see the little rocks and pebbles and know that if I can just make it there, I'll be ok. I tried with all my might to swim to it but I was caught fighting against the currents. But if I can just make it to the shallow water, I'll be ok... The photographer is yelling at me, NO! Keep your feet up! FEET UP! Around the corner! Around the corner! What the hell do I care what's around the corner, SAVE ME NOW! 

Anthony and I didn't have a choice. The currents swept us up like ragdolls and slammed us into more rocks and between these two cliffs. Apparently this is what the photog meant by around the corner. The most beautiful sight I ever saw was the big yellow boats of the 4 or 5 other crews. Keegan, a guide on another boat, beamed me in the head with the saftey rope. It's a bag filled with about 70 feet of rope that comes out the further out it goes. It felt like simultaneously as I was pelted in the head with this bag, I was sucked under. I'm going to drown. I know it. I'm going to drown. My insides are screaming JUST LET ME FIND THE ROPE! PLEASE! 

Here I am, sucked under water with the sinking reality that I'm going to drown (pardon the pun) and I'm blindly feeling around for the rope. I GOT IT! I feel it tighten and I pop up! I was being pulled on my belly and basically being drown even more and I remember the training where they tell you to flip onto your back. As I flip onto my back, I see my husband come flailing into view. I try to extend my leg for him to grab, knowing in my subconscious that wouldn't work. Someone yells GRAB MY PADDLE and extends the wrong end of the paddle to him. Somehow he grabs it and holds on. We both get pulled into the boat, coughing up our lungs. Someone jokingly (stupidly) asks if we want to go back in and finish the tour. Anthony jumps up, pushing people in the raft out of his way, saying GET. ME. OUT. OF. HERE. He said a bunch of other things along the lines of this isn't fun, he almost drown, he never wants to go in the water again but I was still hacking up all the water so I didn't quite hear it all.

I sit up and ask WHERE ARE MY FRIENDS! Half of my friends were in my boat! Someone tells me the other girl in the boat is ok, I look and see her. Ok, she's ok. Where's everyone else??? And that's when I hear our two other guys are stuck on a rock. The guides were freaking out because they thought they were pinned between two rocks. Turns out they were just holding on for dear life! 

(Above picture: our two friends holding on for dear life to that rock.)

They ended up coming loose and being rescued. Hearing my crew was ok was such a relief! 

And that's when about 4 people got in my face and started questioning me. I don't know what you're saying, I don't care! I'm alive! I didn't drown! I feel like jelly! I'm shaking like a leaf! And then they start asking me about pain. Yes, my low back and hips hurt... Then they started freaking out about a possible spinal injury. I didn't think I had one but they were scaring me. They put a cervical collar on me, strapped me to a straight board (that hurt more than my back did!), and carried me through the woods like He-Men Barbarians. 

I WAS MORTIFIED!! I don't have a single shred of pride and dignity left. 

An awkward bus ride (where they put me on the board on top of the seats), an ambulance ride, an ER visit in which I had to argue with the nurses that they can strip me naked but NOT cut up my Under Armour shirt (it was expensive! Cut the rafting crap, I'm not paying a dime for that!), 260 x-rays, and 3 1/2 hours later, the Dr said I had a lower lumbar/thoracic strain. That means that in a normal person's spine, there is a nice, natural S curve. In me, once you hit about the low back all the way to the tail bone, it's as straight as a rod. The muscles reaction to the unnatural alignment is to tighten up to try and protect the vertebrae. So my muscles in my back and legs are spasming. That doesn't even count the sore ribs, shoulders, arms, and hands. Some of that is normal for rafting, not all of it though.

In the end, I survived, a little worse for wear, swam down Class V (5) rapids on the 3rd most technically difficult river in the country, earned my stripes, got the t-shirt, and have a heck of a story to tell.

(Above picture: my friend's dad bought me this t-shirt saying "WARNING! Contents may shift during transport, North Country Rivers, Maine." I plan to draw 2 more stick figures on it to represent the rest of my crew.)

(Above picture: Our rafting group right before we departed Maine.)

Epilogue:

I don't feel as if we were adequately prepared for white water rafting. We were so naive in thinking it was just getting in a boat and paddling through waves. It is SO MUCH MORE THAN THAT. It's falling out of the boat that is the most terrifying. You can't panic. You have to keep your cool otherwise you can't think clearly enough to remember the survival skills they taught you. 

Considering that half of our group was beginners, I personally don't think that choosing the 3rd most technically difficult river in the country was a wise idea. Even though the rafting company boasts no experience is needed and that anyone can raft, that's not wise. You learn to walk before you run. It only makes sense for beginners to work their way up to Class V rapids. Can you tell I wasn't the one who planned this trip? 

I'm positive that while the rest of my crew was scared, I am the only one who is still having residual issues about it. I'm having nightmares at night. The first few nights, I woke up thinking I was in the river drowning again. Now, it's like I know I'm going to have a nightmare so I don't sleep very soundly. I'm up almost every hour or two, getting out of bed. Last night, I woke up to my husband shaking me awake, raising his voice CRISTINE! Are you ok! CRISTINE you're hyperventilating! 

My husband is a very heavy sleeper so I can't believe that I was doing something so loudly that it woke him! 

I'm wondering if I would have had a different experience if I had gone rafting before I had Postpartum Depression. I really enjoyed thrill seeking, adrenaline pumping before I had my baby. And  I can't even take the shower water running over my face without my heart racing like I was in the river again! Add on the nightmares and I'm a shaking mess by morning! 

Anthony and I both agree, we would have had a much different experience if we had just stayed in the boat. It's a Catch 22 though. You have to paddle to get yourself out of the rapid otherwise you'll be sucked back in. But the sheer force of the waves coming in is enough toss you out of the boat. It's like a gigantic arm comes out of the water and scoops the crew into It's fist and drops you into the water. 

I'd raft on Class II and III rapids. That's a good place for beginners. But our friends want to go to a MORE difficult river next year. Unwise if there's such a large group of beginners again. But that's just my opinion. Anthony even says he'd raft again if he could just be promised that he wouldn't fall out of the boat. No one can guarantee that though. 

So what do I do? Make myself look like a sissy by voicing all my concerns? Surely, I'm the only one having issues like this. That runs the risk of being excluded from the trip next year. I definitely don't want that to happen. Keep it all pent up inside and risk that it gets worse? Don't say anything and go on a more dangerous river next year and possibly risk more injuries? I don't know thus I am sitting here blogging about it. 

Birthday Party from Hell

My little baby has turned a year old as of April 9th, 2011! Where the heck a year has gone! In some ways, I feel as if I've made tremendous strides and in others, I find myself lacking quite a bit. In the great spectrum of time, a year is a second. So I've got many more "seconds" to keep trying.

Below is a description of the days preceding his 1st Birthday Party. I'm sure all you mommies out there can empathize greatly with me!

1 month before the party: Better send out a guest list email invite thing since I know I won't have time to hand write cute little invitations. Result: my husband CHANGED my guest list (including people I didn't know and even people I had no desire to come!), changed the time frame, changed the format and wording, and made it a dumb video invite thing that was sent out to everyone 15 times so it looked like SPAM!

3 weeks before the party: I'd better talk to my friend about helping me make a fondant cake because I'm making everything else... I'll need the help and he'll most likely want to do a practice run... Result: we had a ton of fun making homemade fondant and playing with the fun food dye! NOTE: homemade fondant is very difficult to stir by hand and unless you have a KitchenAid Mixer, you'll break a handheld. But it is so worth the effort!

2 weeks before the party: I'd better think about the menu... Eh, I'm an excellent party planner, I can whip this thing up in a couple days- I really don't have time to sit down and plan a menu and take inventory of the kitchen right now.

1 week before the party: I still have no idea how many people to expect since most didn't RSVP like they should have. NOTE: if you are invited to something, make sure you RSVP even if you aren't sure you're coming or not otherwise you'll look like THAT person to the host/ess. You know, that person you have to HOUND to get a response... the person you wish you just didn't invite because getting an answer was like pulling teeth and they said they'd come and didn't show!!

2 days before the party: it is Thursday night and I receive some unsettling news regarding the guest list and proceed to scream at my husband over who he freaking invited and whether or not I even WANTED that person or people invited!! It was supposed to be about 15-20 max with our core group of friends and possibly some additional co-workers of his. I intended to have a smaller get together with our church friends the next day after service because we live in a friggin condo and don't have room for the 40, yes I said, 40 FREAKING people he invited!! And not everyone was on the guest list to come at the same time. But what does he care: he wasn't the one cleaning for it, cooking for it, hosting it, bagging up left overs, and cleaning up the mess! *Insert rolling eyes face here* I went to bed completely upset, stressed out, anxious, and didn't even sleep!

1 day before the party: It is early Friday morning and I blatantly tell my boss that it is a high anxiety day for me today because of the people I did not anticipate. She felt bad for me and tried reassuring me. I work about 12 hours a day for 3 days a week at a chiropractor's office. It was a LONG day and I swear you'd think I had the jitters the whole day if you saw me. It was awful and I probably gave myself an ulcer!

Friday night, I get out late and decided to go to the grocery store to buy all the ingredients I needed. It is 9pm and I decided Big Y has the best pizza so I'll have dinner before shopping. After enjoying a delicious slice of sausage pizza, I order the pizza for the party tomorrow and start my trek through the store. I don't get very far since I have to pee like a racehorse. I knew I should've just gone before I left work but I thought I could wait til I get home. WRONG. I'm about to pee my pants, there's stuff in the cart, I can't take it in with me, so I grab my wallet, and book it to the potty. I HATE USING PUBLIC RESTROOMS! I burst into the only open stall in the two stall restroom and look at the toilet. Ok, there isn't anything yucky in it but I'm still not putting my porcelain butt on that thing! There isn't a self to stick my wallet on so I gingerly lay it on the toilet paper roll dispenser. I yank down my skirt and undies and attempt to hover over the toilet without losing my balance OR peeing on myself. Accomplished one, not so much on the other. While I didn't fall over or pee on myself, I didn't manage to make it all in the toilet. Gross, I know. So I am being a cleanly patron by wiping up the toilet seat for the next person.As I go to get more, I must have pulled too enthusiastically because in slow motion, I see my wallet... my gorgeous Vera Bradley black, white, and green Baroque wallet slide off the toilet and dunk into the nasty piss filled toilet!!! In slow motion, I yell, "Noooooooooooooooo!!!" and lunge forward but the wallet is out of my grasp! And you hear, "Plooooooooooooooooop!" as something big and heavy fell very quickly into the pot. The old woman next to me must've thought I was giving birth to a bowling ball or something. I have no idea what to do!! My beautiful wallet is sitting in the nasty piss hole, the crapper, the john, the deuce catcher. Every vile and disgusting nickname for the toilet is running through my mind. I call my husband and he doesn't answer. So I call my friend Jason, he's the one helping me with the cake.

Me: "Jason, I called Anthony but he didn't answer and I don't know what to do. I'm ok, it's not an emergency or anything but it kinda is to me.You can laugh at me tomorrow but don't laugh at me today, ok? I don't know what to do."

I bawl my eyes out to him IN THE PUBLIC RESTROOM with the grandma in the stall next to me listening to every juicy detail and my beautiful defiled wallet still floating in the toilet amidst urine and toilet paper.

Jason is a go to person when you freak out and can't think clearly. He has made a point to think before he speaks and is very sensitive to a woman's ever present roller coaster of emotions. He calmly instructs me to get the wallet out of the toilet and get the toilet paper off it and to rinse it thoroughly. After following all his instructions, I'm still crying to him about the woes of the freaking guest list and he promised to come over early to help me and to be my buffer for the day. Thank God! Note: no ladies, he's not gay, he's straight as an arrow, good looking, well dressed, funny, financially stable, one of the smartest men I know, sensitive, and SINGLE! Too good to be true right? Well, those myths about men like that have to be based off someone, right??

While all this is happening, Grandma comes out and is washing her hands in the sink next to mine, all the while blatantly staring at me with her mouth slightly agape. IF YOU'RE NOT GOING TO HELP ME, THEN GET OUT!!!! That's what I was thinking. Of course, I'm still crying on the phone to Jason so I don't say any of this. Grandma leaves and in walks this young, hot, Miss Thang with her pretty strawberry blonde hair (which I'm SURE was fake!) and heels clicking. Jason asked me if I remembered to flush the toilet. I couldn't honestly remember. Maybe??? Horror struck me. Miss Thang just walked into the stall I used.... I wait... HA! I must have flushed but there must have been pee and toilet paper splatter everywhere still! TAKE THAT, Miss Thang! I really had no reason to wish an ill willed potty experience towards her but she's everything I'm not, at the moment: poised, well dressed, well put together, and well, let's face it: a young, hot thing. I got her good though... ;) *insert evil laugh here*

I dutifully put my sopping wet Vera Bradley wallet in a produce bag and finish checking out. Anthony calls me back as I'm mid-store. I tell him the whole sordid story and cry some more. Lucky for him, he doesn't respond right away. It's almost as if I can HEAR his brain thinking, "This is funny but do I laugh?? Probably not. She's crying right now and will kill me if I laugh at her drama... Ok, I'll play the comforting husband role instead and laugh at her tomorrow when she's not likely to hit me with something heavy that she purchased."
Intense stress reliever took over as the tears flowed. IN THE MIDDLE OF BIG Y... Great. I'm one of THOSE women. The ones that talk on the phone about their personal life in public and people around her can hear everything. And I'm an emotional one at that. Great. So I finish by saying I'd tell him when I'm home because Miss Thang walked passed my aisle. WHAT?! ARE YOU STALKING ME?!

I went to the bathroom so I could focus on what I was buying and stick to the budget... and I STILL went over budget. Screw this, hellooooo credit card! I was NOT about to go put anything back! Miss Thang ended up in my lane behind me a couple people, I mean, it IS after 10pm on a Friday night and they only have one lane open. Great, she probably thinks she can't get away from this nut job who bawls her eyes out in the public restroom! Of course, the cashier and rest of the people in line are looking at me weird because I have to dig a sopping wet wallet out of a produce bag and then have to PEEL the wet indistinguishable receipts off the credit card... Mortified.

And this was all preparing for the stupid party. This isn't even the story of how stressful it was preparing the day of and how I called Jason asking him to come even earlier. Oh boy.... thank God for good friends who put up with all your crap, LITERALLY! Pun fully intended.