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White Water Rafting and Bungee Jumping
Entry 35 of 36 | show all | print this entry |
So today was OFFICIALLY the best day of my life. I feel confident in saying that it will be a while until I have a better day.
The initial thought of white water rafting freaked me out. Ever since my near drowning experience 10 years ago, I have been terrified of rushing water. The Nile was definitely rushing today. Rapids could generally be divided into 6 classes. Class 1 rapids were docile and harmless while Class 6 rapids could be potentially fatal. Four out of the 6 rapids we encountered today were Class 5's. Did I also mention that I had NEVER been white water rafting before? You can imagine how frightened I was upon entering the raft. Our rafting team was composed of reluctant novices and seasoned veterans. Our two guides were supposedly the best of the best. Electing to be in a more secure position, I found a seat in the middle of the raft.
We entered the Nile only 5 minutes later. The river was quite calm. This allowed the guides to instruct us on rafting procedure and rules of safety. There were basically three signals we had to familiarize ourselves with. First, "Hold on!" When hearing this command we would grab onto the rope and brace for the impeding rapids. Second, "Get down!" This signal demanded that we crouch low in the raft and lean against our partner from the corresponding side. Third, "Lean Right" and "Lean left." These signals were self explanatory and prevented the raft from capsizing. We were also required to know how to act in case the raft flipped. Once in the water our guide mounted the capsized raft to flip it back over. With us all braced on one side, he flipped the raft- this in turn transferred us to the opposite side. Re- entering the raft was not so easy. It required us to perform what I called the "beached whale" technique. With legs outstretched, using momentum and force you would pull yourself up to the raft- sliding onto the inflated perimeter. It took me three tries to experience success. Most of the others were less successful. Those who did enter the raft used force to pull the others from the water.
After a couple of run throughs the guide was confident in us trying the "real thing." The first rapid was a great warm up. Only a Class 3, it drenched us without tipping us over. Feeling like champions, we welcomed any rapid to come. That was our first mistake. Our over- confidence would cause us a nasty experience on Rapid 2. They called the rapids "Grey Silverback" after the infamous Gorilla. A giant wall of water pushed up against a rushing counterforce of current. It was a spectacle I have seen on the National Geographic Channel, but never in real life. We were the fifth group to enter the rapids. Two of the four groups were unsuccessful.
Falling down the steep opening we survived the initial scare. We weren't so lucky when hitting the proceeding wall of water. We capsized before hitting the wall. Apparently the force of water leading up to the wall had more potential for harm than the wall itself. The fall was surreal. You know those dramatic slow motion finishes to long marathons? That's how it felt. It was as if we were suspended in midair for minutes. After hitting the water I immediately felt myself trapped under the boat. Calm and collected I found my way to the side by guiding my hand along the perimeter rope. The tougher part was yet to come. Now buoyant I had to raise my feet and let the rapids guide me downstream. Holding my breath in intervals I managed to drift down the rapids without inhaling the infected Nile water.
Our group re- convened in the calm water with only one person missing: Sarah! I felt a gulp in the back of my throat as I pictured the worst. My fear soon subsided however upon seeing Sarah attached to the back of the "rescue kayak." My first words upon entering the raft again were "That was awesome!" This truly was the only way to describe such an event. Not many people can say that rafted down the Nile, even fewer can say they capsized on a Class 5 rapid and lived to tell about it.
So perhaps I have a flare for the dramatic. I must admit this to be an inherent part of my personality. I like to enhance stories and suspend disbelief. Honest to God, this next part is real. One hundred percent authentic truth telling...
The fourth rapid was according to our guide the "toughest rapid of the river." The name of it had something to do with the sound it reverberated throughout the valley. You could hear it from a mile away, but you could not see it. That's what created the greatest amount of fear. The calm before the storm was oftentimes more terrifying than the storm itself. This was no exception. This class five rapid was deceptive. After waiting patiently we charged full steam into the powerful abyss. We had learned from our previous fall. We tipped because of two reasons: One, our weight was distributed unevenly; Two, we were not low enough. We remedied both weaknesses on Rapid number 4 as we were determined not to let the rapid win out. It threw us left and right like a rag doll. Gallons of water filled the raft as we clenched tight to the perimeter ropes. After three distinct jerks and an enormous wave we had escaped. We felt like a leaf that made it through the storm drain. We were tossed, turned, flipped, beaten and battered but not broken. We were that stubborn leaf. We let out a deafening victory cry after making it through.
The last rapid was a weak Class 2. "Easy rider" was even easier than it let on. Much like a water ride at Magic Mountain, it drenched certain people but posed no threat to the overall state of the raft. After emerging successful from "Easy rider" we paddled hard to a side embankment for lunch. Instructed to take all our gear out of the boat, I grabbed my helmet, oar and life preserver. I became quite a spectacle at lunch. Apparently you were supposed to drop the gear off at the top of the embankment. I elected instead to wear it through the lunch line. With helmet fully attached and oar in hand, I used my free hand to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. I was taking no risks.
I got a bit of a sun- tan before leaving with the rest of the IC group for the "Adrift" campsite. We were served like kings on our "party bus." Only in Uganda can 75% of the occupants drink Nile Specials while on board a moving vehicle. This would be law breaking bliss in America, here it was welcomed. Sipping back on my cold beer I reveled in my new accomplishment. I had rafted for the first time on some of the toughest rapids in the world- in the Nile River!
The day had just begun. Back at camp we prepared for phase 2 of the best day of my life. A bungee platform stood 145 feet above the ground. It was quite a spectacle. Decorated with a giant Nile poster that stretched from end to end, the experience would be for only the most courageous of campers. The event could not have created more anticipation. After two grueling hours of set up and safety precautions, the first jumper leapt. In a backwards dive he catapulted towards the impeding water. Weightless and free he soon coiled and re- coiled again in the direction from which he came. The site was amazing. Half of the would be jumpers reconsidered jumping... me, I was now fully committed. I left with 15 of my colleagues to make the long climb to the 145 foot high platform. After 5 flights of stairs and a racing heart beat I was at the top. The instructor ordered the group according to fear of heights. In essence, the line was split along gender lines. Having experienced skydiving and face climbing in the past, I would be the last of the males to jump.
Everyone jumped differently. Some jumped with arms outstretched much like Olympic divers, while others simply fell off the platform feet first. I was determined to jump like "the pros." With the sun quickly fading over the horizon, it was finally my turn. Ducking under the rope, I entered the main compartment to receive my pre- jump pep talk and training. I sat in a chair while the instructor tied a towel around my legs to prevent rope burn. Once the towel was secured a carribeaner was attached to the rope while another carribeaner added support. Hobbling to the edge of the platform I grabbed hold of the roof to secure myself for my jump. I was still relaxed. Determined to feel the rush I so desired, I looked down. One hundred forty five feet below was the rush I needed. My stomach filled with a thousand knots. Refocusing my gaze on the parallel horizon, I prepared for my dive. The guide gave you two counts, on the third, you were to jump. I elected to jump on count #2. Arms fully outstretched I looked like a dead weight being heaved off the side of a cliff. Though the water approached rapidly, it felt like years. With bungee fully stretched, my momentum carried me into the rushing Nile. Almost half my body submerged underwater before the bungee immediately re- coiled. I shot back up into the sky. On the X games, thrill seekers always flipped on their way back up. Determined to someday enter the dangerous events, I did the same. Matt captured the whole thing on video. It's amazing!
At the bar, I received high fives and congratulatory remarks. Apparently mine was one of the "better dives." If you don't believe me, watch the video! Dinner came shortly thereafter. It could not have come at a better time. Over a BBQ chicken pizza we recalled the intricacies of our life threatening day. We were in an elite club. A club composed of thrill seekers and adventurers. A club of hearty travelers always looking for the "next best thing."
So what was the next best thing? Dance Party! The bartender offered me DJ privileges of which I would whole heartedly accept. Most seemed to be appreciative. There were only three people who were disappointed by the song selection. They made their voices known. Frustrated and irritated, I insisted that "If the music was so bad, why don't you get your own IPOD and take over!" This of course was not a viable option for them. It required too much work. Therefore, I told them to "keep their mouths shut." Fortunately I had a sizable crew of colleagues with me- who btw guaranteed to "have my back" had a fight broke out. Luckily it didn't. Hell, we were on the Nile River in the middle of Africa... if you couldn't get along here, you couldn't get along anywhere!
Half way through our dance party we were informed of yet another thrill. Apparently the bar sported the very kayak used to conquer the Nile from Uganda to the Mediterranean. After looking around endlessly for the kayak I was informed that it was right above me. I looked up into the cavity of a 7 foot long kayak, hosted up with rope tied around two bars. Upside down, the thrill seeker had merely to pull him/herself into the kayak and take a seat in the middle. I assumed that once on board, you were required to partake of your beer. Little did I know that by doing so, you were in essence inviting an alcoholic rush up your nose. After the Nile shot into my nostrils I quickly de- lodged the kayak and found myself back on solid ground. Sarah was laughing hysterically.
Our night included other random events such as dance offs, drunken encounters and noise violations. All in all, they added necessary closure to a day full of fun.
Tomorrow will be our last full day in Uganda.
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| 35. | White Water Rafting and Bungee Jumping - Gulu, Uganda Jul 28, 2008 |
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