THE DEVIL'S SHOOT

Last winter was the biggest year for snowfall anyone could remember. It snowed seventy-three feet total for the winter, and up to five and a half feet in one day. It was not a record breaker, but it was definitely a big winter for snow. This had the white water rafting community eagerly anticipating the summer snowmelt. Big snow meant big rapids, and big rapids meant challenges and excitement. Eddy was on his fourth summer as a white water rafting guide, and this summer he was to be in charge of a rafting voyage.

 

Eddy was a good-looking fellow, twenty-three years of age, and as bright as they come. He had graduated top of his class and earned a bachelor's degree in environment studies. The plan was to return to college in a few years and obtain his Masters and then Ph.D. In the meantime, Eddy wanted to spend his youth in the outdoors doing what he liked to do, which was running rivers and enjoying the active life. He had a reputation for keeping his cool in challenging situations and had very good people skills. These ingredients made the best combination to be being a successful guide, especially the lead guide.

 

Over the last three summers, Eddy had paid his dues and earned the respect of the other boatmen. Guiding was no walk in the park. The entire day from early morning to late evening was nothing but work, work, work. The guides pretty much did everything from rafting to cooking, first aid, and ultimately the ones that had to make the tough decisions. Decisions were often life and death matters, especially when the rapids were running large.

 

Clients had to sign a wavier releasing the rafting company from liability if someone was injured, or god forbid, killed. Of course, if gross negligence could be proven the company could still be sued. Eddy had shown himself to be a reliable and unflappable rafter. The other professional guides had a lot of respect for him not only because of his ability on the water, but his skills working with people. Being head guide meant that the last word on shooting a rapid came down to him. Scouting rapids was a real art, and the misinterpretation of reading a rapid could lead to tragedy.

 

The river was called the Aldon, and was fed by a huge watershed that covered a vast piece of territory. Spring that year brought an immediate hot spell and the snowmelt was voluminous. During a regular season many of the rapids on the Aldon were rated class 5, but because of the abundance of snow and the quick melt, the majority of the rapids were class 5.  This was not going to be an easy decent, and all the pressure was on Eddy to make good decisions.

 

Mark, who was second in command, had a bad feeling about the conditions on the river.

         He said, “I don’t know about this Eddy. The water seems kind of freaky and is moving way faster than typical. I’m worried some of our people might not be ready for such difficult conditions. I’m sure you will agree that it goes without saying everyone is going to get dumped at least once for sure, and probably more.”

         “Yea I know. This one is going to be a tough call. I think I’m going to go for it, and decide on the way down if we should shoot a rapid or portage it. We have a fairly hearty group of people on this run with a few exceptions, and after scouting a rapid I will give people the choice of riding it or walking around.”

         “What about Devil’s Shoot? There is no way to portage around that one, and with this amount of water, it’s going to be hairy as s**t. Flipping a raft there could be a real disaster.”

         “Yep that’s going to be a tough one, but if I tell the group it’s too dangerous to go we’ll have a real riot on our hands. This is one of those really tough calls, but I say go.”

 

The other boatmen and women were standing by the rafts looking at Mark and Eddy having their consultation, and wondering what the verdict would be. Most of them felt it would be a no go. Each boatman was responsible for the people in their raft, but ultimately Eddy was the man in charge and responsible for everyone. When the crew found out it was a go, everyone was a little surprised but happy. They’re not that many opportunities to raft the Aldon at such high water, and they were looking forward to testing their skills.

All the clients were huddled in a tight group getting acquainted with people in the group they didn’t know. Upon closer examination almost all of them had a look of  trepidation on their faces, masked by brave smiles. They were all well aware that the conditions on the river were far more dangerous than usual, and Mark and Eddy’s discussion would decide their fate.

 

Eddy got the group together for a conference. “Ok gang, I’ve decided we go. It was a difficult decision. I will leave it up to each individual to choose if to go or not.” Two of the clients went with discretion as the better part of valor and decided to opt out. Fortunately, the people who chose not to go were the very same people Eddy was concerned about. Now the group was comprised of young and relatively fit people, and Eddy was less concerned about possible outcomes. After a half hour of orientation, the group was assigned to various rafts, and they shoved off into the turbulent Aldon. 

 

They didn’t have very much time to prepare for the first rapid, and it was rated a class 4, making it challenging, but not as extreme as a class 5. They plowed through with some difficulty but did a good job considering most of the crew were novices and was their first attempt. Everyone hooted and hollered as they slid through to calmer water, and found an eddy to take a little breather. After a couple of hours of traveling down river it was time to make camp for the night. Tomorrow would be a challenging day with several class 5 runs. As of yet none of the clients had experienced any really big water and the next day was sure to be an eye-opener.

 

         “Well Eddy, how do you think our party did for the first day?” Marked asked.

         “All in all, I think they did OK Mark. I’m a little concerned about a couple of the women as far as the strength factor is concerned. I think tomorrow I will rearrange some of the boats to balance the crews a bit more. There is going to be some big water and our little outfit is going to get a real taste of what they’re in for.”

         “I don’t know if you noticed Eddy, but the river level seemed to be on the rise today. Must be heating up in the mountains and giving us a faster melt,” explained Mark.

         “Yea I noticed, and to be honest I found it a bit worrisome. The weather report before said it would remain cold in the mountains. Maybe I put too much trust in that report when I made the decision to go for it. There’s no turning back now. One place we could hike out if we had to is about a mile down river from Devil’s Shoot, but to get there, as you know, we must get through that hair-raising shoot.”

         “This trip might become rather touch and go Eddy.”

         “I agree. If I had known that the weather report was bogus I would probably have called off the attempt.”

 

The next morning, after a big breakfast and several cups of coffee, the expedition set off. At breakfast, Eddy had explained to the clients that conditions had changed and things might get pretty intense. The first rapid that day was a class 5, called The Pit. Eddy pulled everyone one over upstream to scout the conditions before attempting a run. He had never seen the spot looking so awesome. The churning water made sounds equivalent to massive waterfalls, and the air was filled with mist. Some of the novices chose to walk around.

 

One raft flipped sending six people into the water. They struggled to keep their heads above the surface despite their life jackets. Eddy was in the lead boat and was able to snag the raft as it came downstream. One of the rafters got scrapped up pretty bad, and he was obviously shaken up. The other five found still water to take refuge in farther downstream, and were soon picked up. That night around the campfire it was quieter than usual, and it was quite apparent that people were deep in their own thoughts wondering what was to come. Jack, the injured man, was still capable of paddling, but much of his earlier exuberance was stolen away by his experience. Eddy and Mark walked away from the camp to have a little discussion.

 

“Jesus Christ Mark that could have been a real disaster today. It scared the s**t out of me when I saw them go over right in front of those giant boulders. If it were possible I would say pack up our gear and let’s walkout of here. With this rising water Devil’s Shoot is going to be near suicidal, and in this part of the canyon, our radios are useless.”

         “I hear you Eddy. When I saw Jack bounce off that boulder I thought for sure he was done for. We got lucky on that one. If he got “maytaged” there would be nothing we could do for him. (Maytaging, named after a washing machine, is when a swimmer gets caught in a rotating undercurrent that does not let him surface.) I can tell that everyone is a bit shook up, even some of the pros. A lot of these guys have never seen water this big.”

         Eddy said, “I hope I don’t get anyone killed on this trip. The wavier they signed might save me from getting sued, but it was my decision to go for it, and the buck stops with me.”

 

The next day evolved into a series of flipped rafts, some more minor injuries, and a growing anxiety in the group. You could see it in their faces. The following day they would be faced with The Devil’s Shoot, which is a narrow slot cut through the canyon with vertical walls on both sides. All the water is crammed through the narrow opening increasing the power of the water exponentially. The slot is about twenty feet wide and a quarter of a mile long. The guides knew what they were in for, and their nervous energy infected the novices.  

 

Early the next morning the group found themselves quietly standing by their rafts. They had just heard a sobering talk about what they were up against. There was no way out of the canyon until after Devil’s Shoot, and no way to be rescued from their present location. The water had been continually rising, and you could tell by the staining on the sides of the canyon that the flow was at an historic high. As Eddy jumped into his raft, he said a silent prayer hoping for the safety of the people he was responsible for.

 

After an hour of rough going, off in the distance, you could see the mouth of The Devil’s Shoot. From far off it looked like a thousand foot wall of stone with what appeared to be a small crack in the center dissecting the enormous stone face. The four rafts were being pulled into the mouth with no possibility of aborting the attempt. The guides gave each other hollow eyed stares as they descended into the raging chasm. Next, there was nothing but chaos. One of the rafts immediately flipped, sending the crew into the churning torrent. Not soon after another raft went over. The remaining rafts made valiant attempts to pull their comrades out of the giant waves, but it was futile. Soon all the rafts had ejected their crews, and now it was every man and woman for himself or herself.

 

Dennis, one of the more experienced guides, was vainly attempting to gather up oars that would be much needed later. The rafters were supposed to hang on to them after being tossed out, but conditions were so intense that in many cases this was not possible. If some one were looking from above they would have seen twenty-two heads struggling to keep from being pulled under. The people in the water had no concept of where they were in relation to anyone else. At this point they were attempting to keep their feet pointed down stream, and praying not to hit any obstructions, each on their own private struggle to survive.

 

After what seemed like an eternity, the rafters were one after another flushed from the shoot. The water now fanned out and became smooth as the river opened into a wide valley. Along the banks of the river people began to pull themselves out of the water, each in different degrees of exhaustion. Most chose to just lay flat on their stomachs on the muddy bank. A few of the guides were still in the water trying to catch oars as they came out of the narrow canyon. Eddy was up on his feet along with Mark checking on people and counting heads.

 

Everyone was beat up because of bumping into the sides of the canyon walls. Some of them possible had broken bones. Eddy was running a triage and helping the most seriously hurt people first. At the same time Mark was continuing to count heads, but he was coming up short. Some of the guides were still in the water gathering up oars, and had been pushed considerably farther down stream. Mark could see some of them trailing up the edge of the river holding a few of the oars, one was pulling a raft. By this time most everyone had gathered together in a group in various degrees of distress. Some were just laying flat on their backs looking up at the clear blue sky, some were very emotionally upset after their highly traumatic experience, others were tending to their wounds. Mark was still counting heads and becoming concerned. Everyone was accounted for but Dennis. Mark was assuming that he had been pushed farther down the river gathering oars. All the rafts had been accounted for but one, so he might have kept going hoping it would wash up on the bank like the others had. Finally, Eddy sent Mark down stream to find Dennis and help him if he found the raft or was injured.

 

It didn’t take long for Mark to find him. About a half mile down, the river made a sharp bend to the left and there was Dennis, entangled in some bushes hanging over the river. Because of the odd position of his body it was obvious that he had drowned. On the side of his head was a large gash where he most likely had crashed into a rock. Dennis was a highly experienced rafter and kayaker, and had run rivers all over the world. He seemed to be the least likely to have had trouble in the treacherous water in the shoot. The river is a fickle lady and it’s impossible to predict the fate of anyone individual, especially when the conditions are so extreme and unpredictable. Mark got Dennis untangle from the cluster of branches that had scooped his lifeless body from the river. He left him on the sandy bank. 

 

Walking quickly back to the rest of the group, Mark knew that Eddy would be devastated when he found out the fate of his friend. The rafting community was a tight group, and thought of each other as brothers and sisters. Eddy could see Mark approaching from far off, and Mark’s body language told the whole story.

        

Eddy looked at Mark as he approached, “Tell me.”

         “He didn’t make it Eddy. I found his body caught up in some branches around the bend in the river. He had an obvious injury on his forehead that must have knocked him out immediately.”

        

Eddy straight away broke into tears and sobs. The rest of the crew sensed instantly what had happened, and everyone was taken aback. As Mark feared, Eddy was consumed with guilt and felt responsible for Dennis’ death. Mark pulled Eddy away from the group.

         “It’s my fault Mark. I got one of my best friends killed, and it’s my fault, all my fault.”

         “You know better than that Eddy. Rafting is not a risk free pursuit. You knew Dennis better than I, but I did know he loved his life and what he was doing. You can’t blame yourself for this my friend.”

         “I knew going was a close call. I should have been more cautious and called it off.”

         “Hind sight is twenty-twenty Eddy. How were you to know the weather in the mountains was going to heat up? Yes, the decision to go was a flip of the coin and a close call. Dennis was the most experienced rafter on the trip, more than you even. It was just a tragic fluke that could happen to anyone on any rapid. If you bump your head hard enough the lights go out. His head just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. You offered the opportunity for anyone, including Dennis, to forgo the attempt. Two people took your offer the rest didn’t. You made it clear that it was going to be dangerous because of the high water. We’re all adults here.”

 

Eddy tried to regain his composure. Despite what he felt was a serious lack of good judgment on his part, he was still leader of the group, and he had injured people to deal with. Margaret most likely had a broken leg, and would not be able to hike out. Eddy told one of the guides to hike up out of the canyon and radio for a helicopter to take her out, as well as, Dennis’ body. Mark had pinpointed their location using GPS, and there were several good locations for landing. The rest of the party was going to have to hike out bumps, bruises, scratches and all. The plan was to deflate the rafts and hide them until they could be retrieved later in the season. 

 

After Eddy had finished organizing all the arrangements he sent a group of four to retrieve Dennis’s body, and then he walked himself out into the forest. Mark noticed him leave and decided to follow. He knew Eddy was highly distraught and plagued with guilt and he needed all the support he could get.

 

         Eddy could see Mark coming, “Mark I just want to be left alone for awhile OK? I know you mean well.”

         “I understand Ed, but I just need to have a few more words with you before you beat yourself up too damn much. You’re a river raft guide and have been for four years now. You know the nature of the game and the risks involved. Every year some people die doing this sport, it’s just the nature of the beast. This could be your last trip if you want it to be, but there will continue to be some deaths despite your absence.”

         “Mark I really appreciate your counseling, you’re a good friend, and we’ve shared a lot of experiences. In my heart I know you’re right. I just need some time alone right now. I’ll be OK, I promise. When I hear the helicopter I’ll come back and get the group organized to hike out.”

 

True to his word, Eddy was back in camp as the helicopter landed. Dennis’ body was in a sleeping bag. Margaret was being helped on to the helicopter. Eddy went over and gave her some words of encouragement.

 

         “You’ll be fixed up in no time Margaret. I’ll come and see you as soon as I can. I’m awfully sorry you had to go through all this. I only wish we had stayed put like the two we left behind. They’re the ones with good sense.” 

         “I’m so, so sorry about Dennis. He was a good man. Mother Nature can be a cruel mistress, and we can’t take responsibility for some of the decisions she makes. I know you must be devastated by what has happened, but please promise me not to put it all on your shoulders.”

 

Next, two of the men began to bring Dennis to the helicopter still inside the sleeping bag. Eddy asked them to put the bag down for a moment so he could see his friend. Besides the wound on his forehead, he looked like he was in a dreamless sleep. A tear fell on the cheek of his friend, Eddy bent down and wiped it off, his body was still warm. As they loaded him onto the helicopter, Eddy turned away as the tears gushed from his eyes.

 

The following year Eddy was out there and at it again. He was more seasoned and had a clearer understanding of what it meant to be a leader. He also knew that he was unable to control all that could happen, as his friend Mark had said, “That’s the nature of the beast.”

                                                                                              

Reviews

[Cherrie Palmer]

great adventure I was glad I was able to ride along

[emmajoy]

Grrrreat story, well crafted in spite of needing more editing, the main character is a strong one, the others, eg. Mark and Dennis, are well drawn too. Your descriptions of the procedure is pretty detailed so I imagine you've been involved in such activities, if you haven't you've certainly done some great research .. somehow tho, think the former.
Like others of your posts, this could easily turn into a fine action novel .. it would mean a great deal of work, yes, but ..
One thing tho, you're inclined to report details, sometimes there could be more warmth to this or that, perhaps descriptions of how people looked, what they thought ..

[Brad]

i was almost one of the two that opted out...at the Colorado. Situation was simular and it was my third time rafting. i'm glad i went because it was such a rush, but i haven't been since, i didn't think a lot of us were going to make it on that trip. something inside of me was screaming at my stupidity the whole time going down. yeah, we all got dumped, 4 got injured, i got scratched up and wateerlogged, but otherwise ok