Just an average weekend in Colorado...Ziplining and Rafting and Camping...
Saturday afternoon of Memorial Day Weekend, Joe, Karalyn and Erica and I hopped in the car and headed out on a short two hour drive to Canon City. While the city itself is not really a grand tourist destination--it has, something like 13 prisons--it is not far from amazing scenery and the nation's highest suspension bridge, the Royal Gorge!
Our dreams of camping in the great outdoors were soon squashed after arriving at our camping spot. It was a dodgy, but well marketed, dirt parking lot in some poor suckers backyard. It was apparently a suitable place for some people to camp long term, but we weren't interested in staying for more than 5 minutes. Thankfully, our trip planner Karalyn had a plan B, which turned out to be camping HEAVEN. There were trees, and a firepit, and a crazy bouncy bubble for kids to play on, a stocked liquor shelf in the convenience store, and we could see the Royal Gorge bridge from our campsite!
We pitched our tent, ate smores, and made friends with our neighbors.
Morning came, and it was time for an adrenaline-packed day! Anyone who signs up for ziplining and rafting in one day is asking for it!
It all began with a heavy duty harness. Once we were buckled onto the line, I never had to hold on. Of course, they teach you how to steer the thing, but, if you need a free hand to take photos (and I did), no worries! :) That said, if you can get more clear pictures than blurry ones, you're in good shape.
I had the misfortune of having short legs. It's one thing to stand on your tippy toes to clip your harness onto the zip line. It's another thing when you are physically lifted onto the wire. But, hell, once you're on, that's when the fun begins! Weeeeeeee
And just when I thought the all fun was over, it's was just the beginning. Part two of our adventure-packed day meant floating down the river. And on a warm day in May, the river was traveling faaaast. With the camera's packed away, we suited up in wetsuits and booties and bussed out to the Arkansas River. There, we lemmings were split into groups.
Much like snowboard school, it's super important to get a good guide. We had the honor of boating with a guy known as "The Alien."
Unlike snowboard school, our excursion seemed to lack the whole teaching model thing I've become so accustomed to. We started out with a serious session on safety and technique and well, saved the fun for later. No time for laughing and screaming, rafting down the river is a serious business! Safety first!
A quarter of the way down, we started feeling good. We worked the paddles and began to win the trust of our guide. "You guys are really a strong team," he remarked with surprise.
We killed it through a handful of class four and low five-ish rapids. We shined through Sunshine Falls. We slammed through the Wall Slammer. I began to realize why it was such a great thing to have a commander in charge. He barked and we followed, and we were a well oiled machine.
We looked up and saw the mystical Royal Gorge Bridge standing high above. What a fantastic sight to see from this angle, over a thousand feet below. Truly, fantastic. I will have to dig up photos of my last trip to the Royal Gorge when we looked down below in awe.
It was at this moment, we were headed into another wild rapid...Boat Eater. Forward stroke, back right, high side right? Fuck! Before we knew it, we were huddled onto the right side of the boat, dead center in the river, hugging a giant rock. 80% of our raft was instantly sucked under. Thank goodness we had all the safety talk.
Thankfully, we were all safe, like sitting ducks in the middle of the river. Ironically, the rescue mission turned out to be the most dangerous part. Fellow raft guides chucked a rope bag to each of us, before we were plucked out of the sunken raft one by one. In order to make it to shore, we were sent hurdling over rocks against strong currents. Tricky as it was to onto the rope, I was focused on not swallowing the river water, but one must breathe at some point. Finally, I made it to "shore," which was a steep wall of the canyon, and was pulled from above by my lifevest. Seeing my struggle indicated to others that the left bank would be an easier path for rescue. Then again, maybe my side was better. As soon as the other girls made it to the left bank, they climbed up onto to a narrow road built for the Royal Gorge train. And, sure enough, they were soon climbing back down onto the river bank, as an oncoming train began to charge. The irony makes me laugh.
Of course, no one was hurt, and in an hours time, we rescued our boat, too, and were back on the river paddling like that well-oiled machine. We all escaped unscathed for the most part with a good story to tell, and that's how you know it was a great adventure.
Yes. It was a Boat Eater, indeed.
That's a wrap!
