Out Running the River

As our Junior year of high school was drawing to an end, and summer was once again promising freedom, Brett and I were feverishly anticipating the epic canoe trip we had been planning to take down the Tahlequah River in southeast Oklahoma. The trip promised to provide fishing, cliff diving, swift water navigation, and whatever else we could dream up or come across. We only had two more obstacles to negotiate before we were set for the adventure of our lifetime. First, we needed a canoe. We weren't excited about the idea of floating for a week down a river with our butts hanging through an inner tube thereby causing severe pruning of the posterior. Besides that, there would be nowhere to put all the gear we would need for fishing, cliff diving, swift water navigation and whatever else we might need. If we met any girls on the trip it would be hard to look impressive or suave with the backs of our jeans soaked through and a question mark shaped posture from hours slung in a tube. We needed a canoe.

Both of us still being dependents and not of the wealthy spoiled type but more of the "get your own gruel! Do I look like your slave?" type, we had to find someone willing to lend a canoe to a couple of high school kids bent on impressing girls and catching fish in the middle of the back country. There was not a long line of potential lenders. There was a guy in our class who lived up on the hill with all the other rich people that said we could borrow his canoe if he happened to break both his legs and both his arms thus postponing his own trip. We hoped for the worst but kept looking. Pity was eventually taken on us by Brett's uncle who had an old fiberglass canoe that, as long as we kept bailing and didn't let it sink, we were welcome to use. That was better than nothing.

The second obstacle was Mother Nature. It had not rained hardly at all for the entire year and the word was that the Tahlequah was not much more than a trickle. As summer drew steadily near, Brett and I began to get anxious about our epic trip not ever coming to fruition. Then it rained. It rained a lot. In fact, the rain we received caused me to wonder that maybe an ark would be more appropriate to take a trip in because it was the first and only time in my life that I was able to paddle a canoe up to the drive-in window at Wendy's and order lunch. The Tahlequah would be a raging adventure for certain and Brett and I only had to wait until the water had gone down enough for us to drive out to south eastern Oklahoma.

Other than not meeting any girls, our trip was a great success. We didn't have to bail out the canoe thanks to a copious amount of plumber's caulk, and the fish were biting like they hadn't eaten in weeks. The river was high and fast and deep enough along the cliffs that our jumping from the twenty or so feet above into the murky water went off with almost no incidents. Oh, there was that one little rock that I landed on with one boot (yes, I was jumping into the water while wearing cowboy boots) thereby wrenching my ankle so severely that I could not get that boot off but nothing else happened. Well, unless you count when I nearly got killed.

We had made camp at a wide spot in the river where the water was calm. We had spent several hours that day screaming at each other about the obstacles in the water we were trying not to hit as we careened past in the swift water; we were both exhausted and exhilarated at the same time. I was out in the middle of river floating and goofing around while Brett was sitting on shore laughing and throwing rocks at me. It was absolutely perfect. We had fish to eat, a great camp, and a wonderfully serene wilderness shutting us out from all the worries in the world. We were having a great time. Then Brett started making a lot of noise. A lot of noise is the best way I can describe it because all of a sudden he was screaming and jumping up and down while waving erratically with one arm and pointing with the other. I was transfixed for a moment due to his sudden and bizarre behavior but then I was able to make out part of what he was trying to tell me.

"GET OUT OF THE WATER NOW!!"

I had no idea what could possibly be going on but because of his urgency and his being the perfect picture of panic, I though it best to do what he said and do it quickly. I paddled, kicked and scrambled as fast as I could and came up on shore beside him. Still not knowing what was going on, I looked at him questioningly and with a little bit of trepidation since I thought it might be possible that my friend had just gone nuts.

"LOOK!" he said, while still pointing up river. I followed his finger and was confused for a moment before my blood ran completely cold. Up stream and floating down to where I had just been in the water was a black cloud that took up almost the entire width of the river. Every so often we could see the black head of a Water Moccasin pop up over the current. There were hundreds of them. I involuntarily stepped backwards farther up the shore and my legs nearly gave out on me. If I had remained in the water I may not have survived long enough to get to shore. Brutal little pit vipers, Water Moccasin are extremely venomous and after four or five bites can kill a person. They had probably been washed down into the water by the recent downpours. We watched as they gently floated down the river and then being young, dumb and quick to recover, we began throwing rocks at them. It was amazing to see them thrash the water as a rock would land near them. It was too bad there weren't any girls to comfort.

My ankle was still sore and swollen when Brett and I were talking about making the trip again. We never actually got around to doing it but being one of my favorite memories, it would have been nice. Perhaps I will take my family there someday and bore them with all the stories that pop to mind as we float along. There's nothing like a captive audience. No one will be allowed to jump off the cliffs into the river though.