We make our way along the New River's bank,
cautiously stepping from one boulder to the next. Bundles of driftwood and
debris are scattered in random pockets amongst the rocks and trees, evidence of
the last high water event. Our boats are securely tied just upstream, near the
end of a relatively slow moving flat-water pool. As we boulder hop further down
stream, the chaotic mess of whitewater that minutes earlier existed just beyond
the horizon of current is now coming fully into view. I discreetly glance at
the facial expressions of the others, trying to gain some insight into their
initial feelings without being noticed. Some eyes are wide, bouncing from place
to place, over stimulated and not knowing what to focus on. Others are sharp
and intense, glaring out at nature’s display. The once smooth, glassy water has
now become a whirling mess of water crashing over rocks and waves that build
and break and fill the air with mist. I position myself closer to the water’s
edge and turn so that the river is at my back. Eyes now shift their focus to me,
staring intently, expectantly. “So,” I say as I begin to break into a big,
bearded smile, “this is our first Class V rapid. Let’s talk about it.”
This
is another day in our first week of guide
training. These 15 people from their random walks of life and various
parts of the country have all come here for one common goal, to become a river guide.
As we scout, or study a rapid from the riverbank, I point out differing
current lines and features. The trainees take time to look and begin to
implement their “water-reading” knowledge, asking questions and developing
ideas for how to run the rapid. We talk about hazards and the different pros
and cons to varying routes. Scouting gives the opportunity for questions and
clarification, something that can be hard to find time for in the midst of a
rapid a few hundred yards long, containing 8 to 10 foot waves and a must miss
feature known as the Meat Grinder.
As
we head back upstream to our boats, I notice a few trainees stop to look back,
trying to pick out the line or certain features from a slightly different
vantage point. It’s interesting how what we see and the way we see things has a
lot to do with where we are standing. The world can look completely different
from a different point of view. There remains a lot for this training class to
learn, with skills to be honed and a relationship with this wild and wonderful
river to be fostered. But perhaps their greatest insight will be into a new point
of view. A perspective that many people will never have. The view from the back
of the raft, the perspective of a river guide.
In March of 1994 I was one of those trainees looking at the same rapid. Then just downstream we did the same thing at Double Z. Overstimulating is a nice way to put it. Even standing on the banks it was hard to hear the person next to you and that was disconcerting, totally discounting the sight of over 50,000 gallons of water passing by every second.
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