The first time I went to The Gulley was the first time I went whitewater rafting. The rafting was one of the most terrifying yet amazing times in my life. They told us about the spot in the river where you could jump out and take the rapids on, without the raft. Even now, I still remember how it felt to accomplish what I had done.
When they offered the opportunity to take on the rapids, I immediately took it to prove that I wasn’t a sissy. I jumped out of the boat with a large splash, and in suit we floated in the water to the slowly approaching rapids. I started to feel anxious, getting tired of the wait while watching the water crawl to the smooth round rocks. Then, the current got stronger pulling me closer and closer to the rapids. Sure enough shear horror and fear overwhelmed as soon as I realized how dangerous it looked. I started swimming as hard as I could to get away from the rocks, but it was no use the water just kept moving me forward to the rough jagged rocks. I heard Brandon, my dad’s friend, yelling at me to stop struggling, I’d be fine. I couldn’t give up though, not now, thinking if I did that I might die. When I thought about how I would die, doing something that hundreds of people had done before me, I realized that was just my luck. Once again terror ripped through me and sent me into an uncontrollable fit of shakes and screams, the adrenaline pushing through me.
My body was shoved under the water as I finally hit the rocks, gulping in the horrible water that made my throat burn like swallowing sand, and then salt. My head bobbed out of the water, but not long enough for me to get a breath. Then, the spinning occurred, yet another thing that I couldn’t stop. Again the thought of death pulsed through my brain. I thought about the last conversation with my father as he told me I’d be okay, even saying I wouldn’t die. I didn’t believe him now; the feeling of death was too real. I thought about my family as I twirled and bobbed through the water, would they all miss me?
Then everything slowed down. I finally rose out of the water, for hopefully the last time. I coughed up all the water that had forced its way to my lungs, sucking in the long awaited oxygen. Then the adrenaline that I had pushed away before, for it was a stupid feeling at the time, consumed me. The fun it had been to do what I had just done. I wanted, no needed more. The urge to swim to the bank, walk back up stream, and do it again was unbearable, but I realized that my dad and Brandon had both pulled me out of the water and were still holding on to me, or I thought, holding me back. I heard the leader blowing her whistle to remind us that another set of rapids was coming on, one that I had to be in the raft for. Slowly I pulled myself back into the raft, wishing, wanting more, but it was gone, for now.
