Salt River Tubing

Going to the River yesterday with friends was the best and worst event of my life. Everything was going really well. The River was pretty. Good tunes. Snacks. Gatorade. **NO alcohol** Nice little river flow. About 1.5 hours into it we hit some “rapids.” Well, that left Chiquita, Inez, Deena, and myself out of our tubes and into Hell water. Trying to save everyone from inevitable crashing into bushes led me and 3 people I care for down the Hell driven River.


First the slip and fall. Not so bad. Thinking “Ok, I can make it back into my safe little tube.” NOPE. I found myself holding on for dear life to an intertube. I look ahead and see that Inez and Chiquita are fighting the river, but have a hold of an intertube. I see Deena out of her tube, but desperately grabbing for me. I didn’t know why until I hit the first rock that ripped my left leg open. I was dragged for nearly a quarter of a mile. I felt every single rock on the bottom of the Salt River. Crashing into anything that came near me. I found myself under water much longer than I ever should have been. I could feel Deena’s arm wrap around my face as I gasped for air only to find River water instead of oxygen. The few times I did get air was only because Deena had me by my hair, and was desperately trying to pull me to the surface.

I couldn’t hear anything. It was as if the world was silent. I could hear Deena screaming my name. Then Chiquita scream my name. It was as if I was in a room with them individually. That was the only thing I could hear. I couldn’t hear the tretorous River rock ripping through my flesh, or even the sound of the water in my ears. I knew at that very moment that I was in deep trouble.

I found myself grasping onto anything that I could find. When I felt like I could get a grip, another rock grabbed be my the ribs ripping my skin and forcing my head back into the river. I could hear Deena screaming my name. I just wanted the River to stop for 20 seconds to get us out of the hell. I couldn’t help anyone. Not even myself. But I can only tell you the relief I felt when I saw that Deena had her intertube within reach. I just wanted her safe. And not in pain.

The rocks were sharp. You would think that water beaten rocks wouldn’t be sharp. Well, they are. And they cut deep. Physically and mentally. I think God was showing mercy that day. 2 men were strategically placed near the end of the rough river. Collecting beer, towels, and other miscellaneous items that had fallen off of peoples rafts. A man grabbed me straight out of the water. I was able to grab Deena, and fight the current long enough to get us on the little strip of land.

When all was said and done. Deena and I were bloody from the rocks. Her feet were raw for the slick rocks and trying to make her way to me. Her legs scratched, her feet mangled. Inez had an asthma attack, and Chiquita had both knees and feet knocked hard. But we were alive. We were alive. I puked up some river water on the bank, and bled all over my favorite board shorts. But I was alive. The rest of the group was unharmed. And we were less than 100 feet from the checkpoint.

Needless to say I won’t ever go to the River again. I am forever indebited to Deena who helped me take the only breaths that I would get in a quarter mile stretch. I love you more than words could ever express. The terror on your face and the screams I heard will never be forgotten.

This experience left my back, stomach, feet, ribs, legs, shoulders, and head scratched from the river floor. But it also let me take a look at life a lot differently. I could feel the intense love that Deena had for me. The willingness to put herself in danger to save me. That I will never forget. Not in a lifetime.

Deena, I love you with all of me. I am lucky that we have the love that we have. And I will never let you go.