River Run

by Terri McFadden

The first hint that we might be out of our depth was that nearly everyone present was about 20 years younger than our son, who was turning 40 that week. As we climbed off the bus and scrambled down the hill to the river Nile, I marveled at the sheer size of it. I’ve seen the Mississippi and the Missouri, the Thames and Seine, and the Nile easily surpassed them all. It surprised me that it was so wide, more than a thousand miles from Egypt.

When we’d planned the trip, months before, my husband and our children, Kalee, Mike and his wife Jen, had deferred to me about white water rafting. Kalee, who lived in Uganda, had done the research and suggested this as a possible activity. We all agreed it sounded fun. But did we want to go on category four or category five rapids? I thought about it very briefly – and chose five.  I remember thinking: After all, you only live once.

The day before we’d gone on a peaceful evening cruise, enjoying a colorful sunset over the river, birds, fishermen casting nets, somnolent crocodiles that looked almost unreal, like Disney World. Today, we were preparing to go onto an altogether different stretch of the river. We got our gear together, helmets and paddles, relinquished all our personal gear like glasses, shoes, and jewelry “because it will be washed away” - and made our way to the rubber rafts. Our family group of five was assigned to a raft with two other twenty-something couples from the U.S. and our extremely fit Ugandan guide. He served initially as our trainer and later, as we rushed down the river, our guide, steering the raft through the rapids.

In the smooth water near the river edge we learned how to crouch (not kneel!), staying on our feet, because if we hit rocks, only our feet would be bruised.  We practiced ducking when told to and “paddle, paddle, paddle!” when given the order. We had to hold onto those paddles, firmly at all times so that we didn’t smash a fellow rafter. Hang onto the ropes when we hit the rapids, said our trainer “and keep that paddle tight in your hand.” My word, I wondered to myself, What have we gotten ourselves into?

I didn’t have much time to reflect. Soon we paddled our rafts out into the faster moving water, and we were off. Almost immediately we hit the first rapids. “Paddle, Paddle!” And we did. “Duck” and we did that too. I tried to keep my eyes open, but it was almost impossible and besides the only thing to be seen was white, churning water. Exhilarating, exciting, energizing. Wow! Just Wow! It really was the most amazing, physical experience.

After the first rapids were past we paddled into quiet water. All were laughing and possibly relieved that we’d made it through that first white water. Just five more to go. What an incredible day. And we survived it. On the bus back to the headquarters of the rafting company, I got into a conversation with a young nurse from the Netherlands, who was doing a rotation in Uganda. She marveled that Ed and I had been brave enough to go on the rafting expedition. “When I’m old.” she said, “I hope I’m just like you!”