Friday, June 10, 2011

camping...

Here are some pics of a recent camping trip to O'Haver Lake, just outside of Salida.  We took a few friends of ours that we know from the streets, packed up the coolers, and headed for the hills.  

The view was perfect

Not our boat...but that's us in the water!


Not sure if this was pre or post flip...but it was getting intense!


Six of us had the chance to do a little whitewater rafting on our second day in the wilderness.  It was, to say the least, intense.  I am by no means a whitewater rafting expert; I've been twice now.  So, I figured that the odds of my raft flipping in the middle of the Arkansas River's massive, spring run-off, rapids was pretty slim.  I forgot to knock on wood.

I, and one of our interns, sat at the front of the boat.  I was quite excited about this; the cool spray of the water on my face would bring welcome relief from the hot sun.  A quarter of the way through the trip, our guide began yelling commands that were no longer for practice. We paddled till our muscles ached.   Suddenly, I realized that I was paddling air.  The raft went nose up and I found myself falling past everyone else into the torrent of ice-cold water.  This was not as pleasant or refreshing as the spray on my face was just minutes earlier.  By the time I surfaced, we were flying downstream, all of us desperately trying to find something of substance to hold onto.  Panic crept in.  Unfortunately, our boat capsized mid-way through this section of rapids, so we rode the rest of the flume submerged in the water, hoping it would stop soon.  We held on to the boat and eachother.  We were in it together.  There were no distinctions of street kid and staff member, intern or river guide.  No "us" and "them".  It was only us...all of us.  The guide screamed for us to let go of the boat so they could flip it back over.  We all let go.  When I released my grip on the emergency rope that is attached the boat's sides, I was swept away from the boat by a current that found only me.  I watched as the others were pulled one-by-one back into the raft.  Fortunately, as I floated farther and farther from the group, I saw an opportunity to swim for a small sand-bar.  I went for it!  My hands touched ground.  A friendly group of rafters that had been behind us watching the whole thing, paddled up to me and pulled me in.  They brought me back to my group.  No one was hurt. 
It's amazing how adversity seems to bring people together.  There is beauty to be found in the midst of struggle.  One of my favorite musicians, Brandi Carlile, sings about this in her song "Caroline".  She sings to her young niece, Caroline, about the things she will see someday.  "Towers in the sky" and "city lights and city sounds", to name a few.  But, through it all, she wants Caroline to see that "there's beauty in the struggle".  I found this to be very, very true.