Journey Through the Great Sadness

This post isn’t about 9/11 or anything related to it. Today I thought I’d share a post about my life and my lunch.

Kurt and I have created a tradition that we have come to treasure. Every year, we go kayaking with Kurt’s mom, Arlene, and it’s always a fantastic time. In addition to the three of us, this year’s trip added Kurt’s youngest sister, Juli; her significant other, Stephen; two of their friends; and a friend of Mom’s. This friend, Kathy, had never been kayaking before, so she appeared both apprehensive and excited all at the same time. I now often wonder if this was her first and last trip!

Our river of choice is the Blue River in Indiana. It was one of those that recently flooded our state. The livery we always go to warned us that the water was high and flowing swiftly. Kurt, mom and I were actually a bit excited about knowing we weren’t going to constantly get stuck on islands of rocks because of the low water levels we usually encounter.

We opted for the six mile trip. Each of us had our lunches packed and tucked in our kayaks along with sun screen lotion, shoes, t-shirts and life jackets we didn’t want to wear while floating down the river. The weather was simply perfect and a gentle breeze was enough to cool us off in the summer sun.

One of the most fun parts of kayaking is trying to figure out which direction to head when those rock islands or tree trunks block the natural path. Should we go to the left or the right? Will we get stuck, whichever way we go?

We had to ask ourselves that question again a couple of hours into the trip. It happened that Stephen and Juli and their two friends decided to head left this time, although they couldn’t see around the bend. The flowing current made up my mind for me; I’ll be going left too. When it was too late, we realized that several large trees were downed and blocked our path to re-merge with the river. Kurt, mom and Kathy had already taken the well-traveled path while the rest of us started to wonder how we were going to turn around in such strong currents. Paddling up stream wasn’t my idea of a fun trip.

In the meantime, I noticed that Stephen was able to lean backwards in his kayak and ease underneath a mini-bridge one of the trees seemed to make. He was able to make it to the other side seamlessly. Juli was attempting the same maneuver when she was toppled out of her kayak and began floating downstream. Her kayak and oars went one direction but she safely made it over to a small island. I found myself pressed against another tree that was blocking the path. I got to that tree in part because I wanted to wait my turn to go underneath the tree-bridge and catch up with the others. I also got to that tree in part because the water made me.

The current was so swift that my kayak wasn’t budging an inch. I tried desperately to push myself away from the tree so I could get back in the natural flow of the water. The current had other ideas. My kayak was pushed over, and I naturally went with it. The fast flowing waters pushed my kayak harder against the tree and I was being pushed along with it. I tried to stand up but realized I was still underneath the kayak. Several more attempts to stand had me concluding that I was in trouble.

It’s amazing what goes through your mind in times like these. I was incredibly calm throughout the whole ordeal. I’m not exactly sure how long I was under the kayak, trying to get out, but I recall thinking a lot. Here’s a summary of what went through my mind:

Oh crap.
My sunglasses are still on my face.
Oh crap, I can’t stand up.
If I stand up into the openness of the seat, maybe I can catch an air pocket until someone comes to save me.
I heard that kayaks automatically complete the rotation if it flips over. That obviously isn’t happening here.
They should do an episode about this on Myth Busters.
I’m still under the water. This is where I die.

Finally, with all of my strength, I put my hands on the side of the kayak and forced myself from underneath the kayak. It went floating down stream (upside down) along with my oar. As I popped up, I noticed Juli’s eyes were about as big around as her head. I wondered how long I had been down there to make her look like that. Before I knew it, I was swept down river, still trying to gain my balance but still going under every once in a while. Amazingly, my sunglasses were still on top of my head.

Then it dawned on me – along with my kayak, my lunch was now floating down river. I began screaming, “MY LUNCH. SOMEONE GET MY LUNCH.”

Suddenly, a peace settled over me and I realized not panicking was the only thing that would get me to safety. I eventually floated over to where Juli was with her water-logged kayak.

In the meantime, mom and Kathy had parked along the bank of the river to render assistance. Kurt was trying to make his way over to the bank as well and was ready to hop in the water to rescue his bride. It took him a few minutes though because he was trying to steer, put his shoes on and rescue the kayaks, which now totalled three, including those of Juli’s friends, who safely made it over to our little island.

Not to put pressure on my dear husband, but in my panic, I once again shouted my concerns: “MY LUNCH. DID YOU GET MY LUNCH?”

In the blink of an eye, Kurt had parked his kayak, put his shoes on, rescued a tennis shoe, a flip flop, three stray kayaks and oars, and then walked over to our little island of safety. For a brief moment, I almost thought he was walking on water but it became clear that the deep waters I had just floated in became once again shallow.

Once we were all reunited, Mom gave me a hug, and we each shared our own personal stories of horror with mom, Kathy, and Stephen, who must have finally realized something was wrong and came back to check on us. Thankfully, in rescuing my kayak, Kurt had also saved my lunch. My PBJ, Funyuns, bite-sized Oreo cookies and apple sauce were all just as I had packed them earlier that morning. Sadly, the same cannot be said for everyone else’s lunches. No doubt some birds and other Blue River critters enjoyed a few mushy sandwiches that day.

After sharing our lunches, I noticed Kathy draped her life jacket around her shoulders, making sure each latch was secure. I can’t seem to recall if she had worn her life jacket in the first part of our journey down stream, but I can assure you she never took it off after that incident.

And somehow, my sunglasses never left my head.