By request... my soul is in the water
Shared Intimacy
5 am alarm rings. Suffering with a low grade fever, I sit up in the bed.
My body longs to remain in the warmth of my soft blankets. Reaching
for the alarm sitting next to the bottle of ibuprofen, I am reminded of the
migraine I had just two nights ago. I begin to second guess today's trip.
Stress and depression lurk just outside my door, hovering, waiting for a
chance to pounce. The mounting bills, life's stressors, and my brother's
suicide last month are difficult to escape. Today is my brother's birthday.
I push myself to rise knowing that, despite the fever, today's trip will be
spiritually healing for me. I hear my son, José, close the bathroom door.
Once outside, José and I load three kayaks and all our gear to the top of
our 1988 Isuzu Trooper. The banging noise from the back continues,
but she's enough truck to get us to our put in today. Besides, there is
no money to fix her. I gulp down a cup-o-joe while driving to the secret
location. This is my day, my turf, my private war, my soul quenching
passion, my satisfaction. Nothing is going to stop me.
The early morning drive pays off as my business partner, Luis, arrives at
the agreed upon meeting point just at sunrise. He is the scuba part of
kayakscuba.com, and a 30 year veteran of the sport. It was after he
taught last nights scuba class, my second day as a student, that Luis
decided this morning would be a good time to begin learning my half of
the biz. He follows us to the put in. Unloaded and geared up, I give Luis
a drink from my coffee thermos and a last minute piece of instruction,
"Don't forget, you are responsible for the man behind you."
The sun rises over the man made lake, 4 kilometers long. It is a great
place to kayak for the first time. Luis, no stranger to water, takes to the
sport without a problem. One hour later, with no wind, hardly a wave,
current going our way, we make good time to the mouth of our chosen
river. We now begin our paddle up the green bottom slow moving river.
The current is week enough on this small river to make the paddle
easy. There has been little rain in this section of the island over the
past few days. We round fisherman's rock, and catch a glimpse of the
now submerged caves José and I stopped to rest in on our last paddle
up here. We are on a mission, so I don't linger, trying to pull the rest of
the team on. It gets difficult as the sites, sounds and smells of the
canyon mesmerize my team. We are long past civilization, man's sins of
pollution, and any cell phones range. Seeing it for the first time, Luis
calls it the Jurassic park paddle.
It takes another hour of continuous paddling on the swollen river in a
narrow canyon to reach the secret location. We are treated with
sightings of hawk, turtles, fish, and iguanas. There is a canopy of
bamboo, and a few half exposed caves that distract the men. The last 2
kilometers of paddle are a series of portages that require complete team
effort, and I am happy to be in such good company. I trust my life to
these two, confident in any adventure, and this adventure, while
challenging, does not qualify as life endangering. Having a team you
appreciate and trust make the difference between an adventure of any
category, and a soul satisfying trip.
I was warned by a local of this area not to come up here. That is how I
discovered this secret. He nearly lost his life up here. His family was
actually discussing a funeral when he, and his cousin, sick and
dehydrated, emerged from the woods a few days later. He attempted
this passage after a heavy rain. He didn’t have the gear or team I had.
He had no way to lift himself out of this narrow and steep, slick black
walled, yet small canyon. I knew we could navigate it. I knew we had the
gear and a great team.
After 3 or 4 portages, two accidental swims caused by portaging along
the slick canyon wall, and more turns to the river than we remembered
to count, we arrived at our intended location. One by one we exited our
vessels. Standing motionless, even breathless we were in awe. The air
was full of a fine, ice cold, sweet smelling mist, as water sprung at high
pressure from the side of the small rock wall canyon. An underground
river burst out in a violent explosion of cascading ancient waters. The
hair standing straight on my arms defied the water. It was a site few had
ever seen. And few ever will.
Luis quickly secured his vessel and gear. You could hardly hear his
screams over the crashing of water echoing off the canyon walls, "Come
on! What are you waiting for?" We crossed the river, rock climbing over
smooth wet walls, and made our way to the water fall. Luis was first to
enter the falls. "Oh, oh God." I could barley hear him, but it was clear
that the ice cold water pounding his back was as much pleasure as
pain. Pulling his head out Luis yelled, "There is a cave!" We ascended
the wall to find a small cave large enough for the three of us to seek
complete refuge from the cold water. I squeezed in next o him.
The look on his face was nothing less than incredible. I have known this
man for about 5 years. I have watched his face full of pride, as he
directed an orchestra in front of a large audience in San Juan. I have
seen his face serious as he explained life saving scuba dive safety to his
students. I have watched his face full of worry as his son entered the
hospital. I watched his face grow old and pained as he suffered through
rehabilitation from a back injury. I saw his face grow youthful and
healthy again as he fought his way toward health. But this look was
different. I had not had the pleasure of seeing before.
Like a child who had been set loose in a candy store and told he could
have anything and everything he wanted. This was the face of my
business partner. I almost thought he was going to cry. It almost made
ME cry. I was grateful to have shared this level of intimacy with another
human being.
My son entered the cave, and he too had the 'child let loose in a candy
store' expression. The day was perfect. Hungry, tired and euphoric, we
sat in the cave quietly catching our breaths until Luis said in a voice
clearly audible, with the water fall itself cushioning the sound of its
crashing sprays below us, "This is my home." The childish grin that
followed made both José and I burst into laughter.
We attempted to go further upriver, but the canyon grew increasingly
narrow, and the current too difficult. Headed back we took turns riding
downriver where we had portaged going upriver. We stopped for a
quick My in the pool created by the waterfall cave, wishing that I had
something better than the cheep disposable water camera with only one
frame left. There was only one place serious enough for José to scout
and watch while we took turns passing, and we all passed though
without a single swim. The vessels came though pretty well, only 2 hard
hits with minor damage. I wished I had a helmet for the more difficult rock
smashing passages.
40 minutes later we reached the point of the lazy afternoon river, and
had to paddle out to the mouth, then another hour paddle to the put in.
Only now the oncoming wind had picked up considerable speed, and
combined with our exhaustion of having gone so far already, the return
promised to be longer and more difficult. I dig deep and paddle hard.
Tired, I feel my shoulder muscles start to burn. I am thirsty, and it makes
the paddle longer. The euphoria has worn off some, as reality bites into
my flesh.
I was first to reach shore, and I had not the strength to get out. I hung
my legs over the edge of my kayak, and waited for Luis, then José to
paddle in just 30 and 60 seconds behind me. Luis, first to stand up,
groaned a deep mournful groan. I knew that at 50 he was suffering
much the same that I at 40 with a fever would. The thought of loading all
the vessels and gear made me reconsider standing. Hunger pains
began to inspire me. After downing what was left of the thermos coffee,
we loaded and went to a 1 pm lunch.
My head was spinning by three-thirty. I downed 200mg of naproxen
sodium with my evening meal and hit the bed before 5pm. This was, bar
none, the best adventure yet. It wasn't the next-day-sore-shoulder
workout paddle that brings its own kind of satisfaction. It wasn't just the
wildlife encountering exploration that thrilled us. It wasn't just the
discovery of a place few had ever seen, and few would ever see. It was
a combination of those things, all shared with partners who can be so
intimate as to share a piece of their souls together that made this a
special experience.
There is a special love and intimacy shared between parent and child.
There is a different and special love and intimacy shared between
husband and wife. And it can be said that there is a special love and
intimacy that can be shared between people who embark upon
adventures that few others will ever understand.
5 am alarm rings. Suffering with a low grade fever, I sit up in the bed.
My body longs to remain in the warmth of my soft blankets. Reaching
for the alarm sitting next to the bottle of ibuprofen, I am reminded of the
migraine I had just two nights ago. I begin to second guess today's trip.
Stress and depression lurk just outside my door, hovering, waiting for a
chance to pounce. The mounting bills, life's stressors, and my brother's
suicide last month are difficult to escape. Today is my brother's birthday.
I push myself to rise knowing that, despite the fever, today's trip will be
spiritually healing for me. I hear my son, José, close the bathroom door.
Once outside, José and I load three kayaks and all our gear to the top of
our 1988 Isuzu Trooper. The banging noise from the back continues,
but she's enough truck to get us to our put in today. Besides, there is
no money to fix her. I gulp down a cup-o-joe while driving to the secret
location. This is my day, my turf, my private war, my soul quenching
passion, my satisfaction. Nothing is going to stop me.
The early morning drive pays off as my business partner, Luis, arrives at
the agreed upon meeting point just at sunrise. He is the scuba part of
kayakscuba.com, and a 30 year veteran of the sport. It was after he
taught last nights scuba class, my second day as a student, that Luis
decided this morning would be a good time to begin learning my half of
the biz. He follows us to the put in. Unloaded and geared up, I give Luis
a drink from my coffee thermos and a last minute piece of instruction,
"Don't forget, you are responsible for the man behind you."
The sun rises over the man made lake, 4 kilometers long. It is a great
place to kayak for the first time. Luis, no stranger to water, takes to the
sport without a problem. One hour later, with no wind, hardly a wave,
current going our way, we make good time to the mouth of our chosen
river. We now begin our paddle up the green bottom slow moving river.
The current is week enough on this small river to make the paddle
easy. There has been little rain in this section of the island over the
past few days. We round fisherman's rock, and catch a glimpse of the
now submerged caves José and I stopped to rest in on our last paddle
up here. We are on a mission, so I don't linger, trying to pull the rest of
the team on. It gets difficult as the sites, sounds and smells of the
canyon mesmerize my team. We are long past civilization, man's sins of
pollution, and any cell phones range. Seeing it for the first time, Luis
calls it the Jurassic park paddle.
It takes another hour of continuous paddling on the swollen river in a
narrow canyon to reach the secret location. We are treated with
sightings of hawk, turtles, fish, and iguanas. There is a canopy of
bamboo, and a few half exposed caves that distract the men. The last 2
kilometers of paddle are a series of portages that require complete team
effort, and I am happy to be in such good company. I trust my life to
these two, confident in any adventure, and this adventure, while
challenging, does not qualify as life endangering. Having a team you
appreciate and trust make the difference between an adventure of any
category, and a soul satisfying trip.
I was warned by a local of this area not to come up here. That is how I
discovered this secret. He nearly lost his life up here. His family was
actually discussing a funeral when he, and his cousin, sick and
dehydrated, emerged from the woods a few days later. He attempted
this passage after a heavy rain. He didn’t have the gear or team I had.
He had no way to lift himself out of this narrow and steep, slick black
walled, yet small canyon. I knew we could navigate it. I knew we had the
gear and a great team.
After 3 or 4 portages, two accidental swims caused by portaging along
the slick canyon wall, and more turns to the river than we remembered
to count, we arrived at our intended location. One by one we exited our
vessels. Standing motionless, even breathless we were in awe. The air
was full of a fine, ice cold, sweet smelling mist, as water sprung at high
pressure from the side of the small rock wall canyon. An underground
river burst out in a violent explosion of cascading ancient waters. The
hair standing straight on my arms defied the water. It was a site few had
ever seen. And few ever will.
Luis quickly secured his vessel and gear. You could hardly hear his
screams over the crashing of water echoing off the canyon walls, "Come
on! What are you waiting for?" We crossed the river, rock climbing over
smooth wet walls, and made our way to the water fall. Luis was first to
enter the falls. "Oh, oh God." I could barley hear him, but it was clear
that the ice cold water pounding his back was as much pleasure as
pain. Pulling his head out Luis yelled, "There is a cave!" We ascended
the wall to find a small cave large enough for the three of us to seek
complete refuge from the cold water. I squeezed in next o him.
The look on his face was nothing less than incredible. I have known this
man for about 5 years. I have watched his face full of pride, as he
directed an orchestra in front of a large audience in San Juan. I have
seen his face serious as he explained life saving scuba dive safety to his
students. I have watched his face full of worry as his son entered the
hospital. I watched his face grow old and pained as he suffered through
rehabilitation from a back injury. I saw his face grow youthful and
healthy again as he fought his way toward health. But this look was
different. I had not had the pleasure of seeing before.
Like a child who had been set loose in a candy store and told he could
have anything and everything he wanted. This was the face of my
business partner. I almost thought he was going to cry. It almost made
ME cry. I was grateful to have shared this level of intimacy with another
human being.
My son entered the cave, and he too had the 'child let loose in a candy
store' expression. The day was perfect. Hungry, tired and euphoric, we
sat in the cave quietly catching our breaths until Luis said in a voice
clearly audible, with the water fall itself cushioning the sound of its
crashing sprays below us, "This is my home." The childish grin that
followed made both José and I burst into laughter.
We attempted to go further upriver, but the canyon grew increasingly
narrow, and the current too difficult. Headed back we took turns riding
downriver where we had portaged going upriver. We stopped for a
quick My in the pool created by the waterfall cave, wishing that I had
something better than the cheep disposable water camera with only one
frame left. There was only one place serious enough for José to scout
and watch while we took turns passing, and we all passed though
without a single swim. The vessels came though pretty well, only 2 hard
hits with minor damage. I wished I had a helmet for the more difficult rock
smashing passages.
40 minutes later we reached the point of the lazy afternoon river, and
had to paddle out to the mouth, then another hour paddle to the put in.
Only now the oncoming wind had picked up considerable speed, and
combined with our exhaustion of having gone so far already, the return
promised to be longer and more difficult. I dig deep and paddle hard.
Tired, I feel my shoulder muscles start to burn. I am thirsty, and it makes
the paddle longer. The euphoria has worn off some, as reality bites into
my flesh.
I was first to reach shore, and I had not the strength to get out. I hung
my legs over the edge of my kayak, and waited for Luis, then José to
paddle in just 30 and 60 seconds behind me. Luis, first to stand up,
groaned a deep mournful groan. I knew that at 50 he was suffering
much the same that I at 40 with a fever would. The thought of loading all
the vessels and gear made me reconsider standing. Hunger pains
began to inspire me. After downing what was left of the thermos coffee,
we loaded and went to a 1 pm lunch.
My head was spinning by three-thirty. I downed 200mg of naproxen
sodium with my evening meal and hit the bed before 5pm. This was, bar
none, the best adventure yet. It wasn't the next-day-sore-shoulder
workout paddle that brings its own kind of satisfaction. It wasn't just the
wildlife encountering exploration that thrilled us. It wasn't just the
discovery of a place few had ever seen, and few would ever see. It was
a combination of those things, all shared with partners who can be so
intimate as to share a piece of their souls together that made this a
special experience.
There is a special love and intimacy shared between parent and child.
There is a different and special love and intimacy shared between
husband and wife. And it can be said that there is a special love and
intimacy that can be shared between people who embark upon
adventures that few others will ever understand.
Views: 28
Comment
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Comment by adem medina cardona on January 28, 2009 at 9:30pm
-
thank you, this is part one of two.
welcome to my page
i look forward to meeting you soon!
peace&luv~c
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