Sports
Stupid Men Trip
It's true — men do ridiculous things, just for thrills. Troop 135 Scout leaders sure did recently, white-water rafting in Maine... and spending a good amount of time in very cold water. The Scouts themselves? They stayed pretty dry — more's the pity!!!
It's a long-standing joke among the leaders of Brookfield's Boy Scout Troop 135 that there should be a "Man Scout" division. Because leaders, and parent hangers-on like myself, often outnumber the actual Scouts on camp-outs and backpacking trips; we seem to appreciate the outdoors — and the chance to escape modern technology — more than the boys do. Texting, e-mail, phone calls, television, web-surfing, even music — we happily live without, since they're as likely to represent work, or invoke guilt, as pleasure.
Which may be why, given the chance, the adults go a little nuts when the opportunity arises. And it definitely happened last week, on the first day of the Troop's annual High Adventure trip, which this year took place in Baxter State Park in Maine. We would climb Mount Katahdin — northern terminus of the Appalachian Trail — at least once, but first we'd do some white-water rafting. In Maine, in the dog days of August, we had little fear of getting "dumped"... and with every Scout at least 14, the boys were used to outdoor challenges and a bit of danger.
But we got more than we bargained for, because James, our University of Maine student raft guide, was ready to push the envelope — in his third season with Penobscot Adventures, he was happy to accommodate middle-aged men looking for trouble. We seven weekend warriors clambered into one raft, the seven teens (and Nick, a college student and Troop 135 "grad") in the other... and you knew there'd be competition, with the winning team staying dry longest.
Penobscot rafting companies generally arrange two trips — a morning run down Class I-to-Class III rapids on the West Branch of the river, and an afternoon run, upriver, that tops out at Class V. (Class V water is described as "exceedingly difficult," with "long and violent rapids, following each other almost without interruption..." Class VI, the next and highest class, was once called "unrunnable" but is now only "unraftable," as expert kayakers have shown otherwise.) Curiously, on the Penobscot, the most challenging rapids occur at the start of each run, meaning you're thrown in the deep end — literally, if you tell the guide you're ready for anything.
We easily got down Nesowadnehunk Falls (seven-foot drop) at the outset of the morning session, as did the boys in their raft. Which told James he wasn't doing his job — what, nobody overboard??!!?? — so we turned around, hauled the raft onto the rocks that created the falls, and did it again. Success, this time: Bob C. got bounced, to be rescued within seconds by the third craft in our flotilla, an underpopulated raft carrying a family of four (and being three-fourths female, not suffering from Stupid Male Syndrome). James, noting the big grins and demon looks among his passengers, decided to try to surf the whitewater at the bottom of the rapids — basically, to maneuver the raft upstream until we caught one of the waterfall-created eddies, then push through the splash and attempt to stall the raft at the rapids' base. Done right, you're standing still while the water rushes around you, or side-surfing local waves; done wrong, you get wet.
James asked someone to crawl into the bow to provide weight — Ray volunteered — and we rode the waves for awhile, though never reached equilibrium. Then it was my turn up front... and being a lightweight, I had to push myself forward and over the bow, feeling much like Leonardo DiCaprio in Titanic. The Scout leaders paddled madly, urged on by James in the stern, but time and again we fell back... until, suddenly, we punched through. The raft instantly felt lighter, and we shot forward — for one second, when we hit the falls and the bottom of the raft disappeared (see the video). Water poured over me, crashing water became white noise inside my head and I found myself swimming in a dark, very cold cauldron. In river parlance, I was "maytaged," as if trapped in a washing machine
I only know what happened above water, ironically, because the rafting company videotapes clients running dump-worthy rapids — yes, our escape from technology was technologically recorded. (That's where the real money is, no doubt — the more drama and danger, the more DVDs sold.) Look at the accompanying video — 2:20 minutes into the long, YouTube version, or watch the short hightlight reel — and you'll see water pouring into the raft, six paddlers falling forward, and then the raft tilting nearly upright, like the monster from Dr. Frankenstein's table. Kirk, Bob M. and Steve followed me into the water, and James, milliseconds later, made a spectacular face plant as he fell into the front of the raft from the now-nearly-vertical stern. Then pop, pop, pop, pop — four white helmets appear east of the raft, one after the other, Steve coming up last, arms aloft, as if in mid-stroke. As he was: having swallowed a mouthful of water on the way down, he was wondering whether his luck had run out. As it would have, for all of us, without those wonderful PFDs....
The Class IV and V rapids in the afternoon run down Ripogenus Gorge were almost anticlimactic by comparison. Sure, we lost Kirk almost instantly in "The Exterminator," and it was chilling to watch him run the whitewater on his butt, never letting go of his paddle... but hey, we were veterans now, rapids and holes named "Fist of God" and "Bone Cruncher" no longer scared us. So when we emptied the raft bronco-riding Amberjack Falls — yup, we totally flipped the thing, every man overboard — well, it was meant to be.
And the Scouts? Alex, their guide, swore he tried to eject them all day, but they ended up in the water only when debarking voluntarily to swim. So in theory they won... but not really, because we Man Scouts had, I'm convinced, the most fun. Not to worry, though; soon those smart teens will become stupid men, and can re-live their childhoods yet again.
