We arrived at the “put-in” around 9:45am and were met by our jovial canoe provider, a man named Charles. I believe it suffices to say that Charles had hair down to his waist, a brown fishing hat, and aviator sun glasses. He helped us get the canoes down into the river, gave us a few basic instructions, and handed us a map. The one piece of instruction he reiterated a dozen times was, “Don’t lose your paddles”. We assured him we would hold onto our paddles and then cheerfully set out down the river. Actually, myself and the student with me set out just fine in our canoe, but the other two had a little trouble. We turned around to see what was keeping them, only to discover that they were tracing circles through the river with their canoe. We tried to give them some instructions, but really we just had fun laughing at their antics. The two of them were just beginning to get the hang of the entire rowing concept when we hit a bit of a rough patch in the river. It was only a small rapids, but there were plenty of rocks and the water was moving quickly. My canoe-mate and I headed toward the right where things looked a little calmer. When we turned around to check the progress of our companions we were not at all surprised to see that they had entirely lost control of their canoe and were being washed into the strongest part of the rapids. Still, the water was not deep and they looked like they would be fine. But, rather than being washed back into smoother water, like they hoped, the current pushed their canoe sideways and straight into a fallen tree. Upon impact they lost control of their craft and began to tip. It seemed to happen in slow motion. First they began to tilt to one side, then water began to poor in. Soon the canoe capsized and they were thrown into the churning river. We were still laughing from the opposite shore until we saw the head of one girl disappear beneath the surface and suddenly realized the water was much deeper and much stronger where they were. She was back above water in less than two seconds but it felt like an eternity. I could tell, even from the other side of the river, that she was shaken up. The only thing I knew was that I had to get over to where they were to make sure no one was hurt. There was no way we could maneuver our canoe to where they were and we didn’t want to risk tipping another canoe, so I told the student with me to stay on the bank with the canoe and I stepped into the icy current and began my attempt at fording the river. As I drew nearer to where they had fallen in, the water became stronger and the rocks slicker. Before I knew it, my feet had been washed out from under me and I was suddenly rushing down river where there was a sudden drop off. I tried to pull my head above water, but my foot was stuck and I couldn’t get it free. Finally, with the help of my life vest and a nearby branch, I was able to reach the surface, but my foot was still entangled. I struggled to free my shoe, but found it impossible. Finally I managed to pry my foot out of the shoe, but this meant saying goodbye forever to my shoe. The two bedraggled students and I crawled up the steep bank and stood there shivering, soaking wet and covered in mud. We laughed that the only thing they had emerged from the river with were the paddles. Thanks, Charles!

The canoe, I soon found was lodged quite firmly upside-down under a fallen tree. I tried climbing out on the tree trunk, with my one shoe and one sock covered feet, but there was no way I could make it that far. Even if I could have made it, the current was too strong for me to be able to push it out. We had to start making some decisions as no one was going to be able to rescue us. I shouted to the student across the river and told her to call Charles and tell him what happened. After a few minutes she shouted back that all four of us were going to have to get in one canoe and proceed down the river, another two hours, to the original meeting place as there was nowhere else he could meet us. The problem was now, how to get to the canoe or how to get the canoe to us. It was impossible for us to walk or swim across the river, as I had just discovered and I knew that the student with the canoe was probably not experienced enough to navigate the rapids and bring the boat to us. So I told them we would have to walk downstream a ways until we reached calmer water. I shouted to our friend across the river that she would have to drag the canoe down river a ways as she was in very shallow water and there was no way I was going to have her get in the canoe and risk being washed further downstream and we began our trek along the shoreline. I don’t think I am exaggerating when I use the word “trek”. We had to scramble up the steep sloping bank and then back down again. We tried to walk along a sand bank at one point only to sink in mud up to our knees. Please try to visualize two seventeen year old girls and me covered in mud and water, wearing life vests and carrying paddles, and me with only one shoe on hiking through mud and brush. Finally we made it to a bend in the river. It didn’t look like the water was going to get any calmer if we continued walking. We were out of option. I told the student with the canoe that she was going to have to cross the river on her own. Shouting instructions, I told her to aim further up stream and straight across so that if she drifted with the current she might have a better chance of reaching us. Then we prayed and shivered while we watched her battle the river. She made without a hitch. I was so proud. The three of us piled into the canoe and I, bedraggled and shaken up by thoughts of what could have happened, led my soggy class down the river. On the whole, I must say that it was a good experience. The students learned what Huck’s life on the river might really have been like, we definitely bonded through the experience, and I learned that I can be an outdoorswoman when I have to be.