The Dog Days of Summer
Every once in awhile there is a rafting trip that really adds perspective to a life in a flux of change. After my minor role in the recent Trans-Tahoe Swim, I returned to ETC River Camp completely exhausted, worried I had depleted my store of energy. I was committed to a trip the next day but had no idea I was leading that trip until I arrived at camp. It was with a group called “Sage”. I had never heard of them and no one around camp could fill me in so I Googled them. “Sage” is an acronym for “Standing Against Global Exploitation” and we should all be aware of their existence and support them in any way we can.
On Monday morning a group of teenage girls along with their counselors arrived at camp. At first glance, I was deflated, thinking this is going to be tough. Their faces were hard, older than their years and not a lot of smiles but instead, fixed expressions of distrust and skepticism. Past the scowls were flirtatious eyes, scantily clad females possessing a knowledge that had stolen their childhood.
I took a breath and began in the opening circle, “Welcome to ETC, our communal home on The South Fork of the American River. This will be your home for the next several days. Please respect the wildlife. I have a “no kill” policy as even the spiders and rattlesnakes have a right to live, just as we do. “
Even as I was saying it I knew it was to draw them in and listen, set the stage for what would hopefully be a time of healing in nature. I had my doubts and I was exhausted from the start. I went on with the usual introduction to camp, tour of the grounds including our expansive, outdoor kitchen, bathrooms, river house and rocky beach. It is undeniably a beautiful place, one in which you would have to apply effort NOT to relax.
The other two river guides on this trip are also men well past 50. I thought, “Uh-oh, this isn’t going to work. We represent the demographic that selfishly hurt these young women". Fortunately, two strong, capable young women were also in camp, both river guides with strong leadership qualities.
“Etta, could you and Ann join our trip today to balance things out? I need some good female role models closer to these girls’ ages. We three old guys aren’t gonna cut it, at least to begin with.”
Etta with her winning, dimpled smile beamed back, “Of course. I’ll do anything for you, Frankie!”
“Really? You and Anne don’t mind giving up your day to hike and swim with Sage?”
Etta and Ann agreed it would hardly be giving up a day and thought it would be fun as I was planning on a short hike to one of my favorite swimming holes on the North Fork of the American River.
After spending too much time trying to set up a gigantic obsolete tent in an attempt to settle in the girls, we gave up and made lunch. Besides it was getting hot as the afternoon approached.
“We’ll figure something out later. Let’s eat and go swimming!”
I was met with less than enthusiasm, a few muttered ‘whatevers’.
“Do we have to go?” inquired one of the girls. “How far is it?”
“Not far and no you don’t have to go if one of the counselors wants to stay back with you,” knowing full well that that wasn’t happening. I exchanged a fleeting glance with a counselor who returned a barely noticeable nod.
I gently pressed, trying to rally some enthusiasm for fun in the sun. Some of these girls had never seen a river let alone swim in one. Etta and Ann were all over it with positive attitudes and boundless energy helping me gather snacks, water, life jackets, floatation devices and water toys along with the mandatory first aid kit and throw bags. Ken, another guide threw in a small beach chair so I could rest my aching bones.
At the trailhead at the end of a bridge spanning the river we distributed gear, including everyone in a spirit of cooperation. That didn’t go over well either and was met with resignation along with that all too familiar teenage sullenness.
“It’s too hot.”
“Drink some water,” I offered as kindly as I could muster in my deepening aggravation.
“The water is warm and I don’t want to carry it.”
“OK, so don’t drink it and I will carry it”, looking in her eye and giving attitude right back.
“We have to walk up THERE?” another inquires.
“Yup, it’s not as hard as it looks,” I respond with now feigned enthusiasm.
“I want to go back.”
“Too late,” mental bubble: tough shit.
Danl walked up front with the more fit girls, I hung around in the middle taking abuse with aplomb and Ken brought up the stragglers who were overweight and not used to exercise of any kind unless it involved picking up a case of sugary soft drinks. Even the counselors started to complain that their knees hurt, their feet hurt and were discouraged after the first quarter mile on a one half mile walk in a beautiful canyon.
Oh this is gonna be a long day...I’ve got a headache that has nothing to do with dehydration. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. Stupid, stupid, stupid, why do I bother?
At a slow pace with lots of encouragement, we finally negotiate the final narrow descent to the swimming hole. It is a safe place to swim for all abilities and is almost as big as an Olympic swimming pool. There is a small beach where we are applying sunscreen and drinking water. Inviting rocks beckon from the far riverbank.
I remark to Maria, “Isn’t it beautiful?”
“Not really. I’d rather go home.”
“Well, I think it is beautiful and I’m going for a swim. You want to go in?” I gently encouraged.
A firm “NO”.
“Ok but if you change your mind you can wear a life jacket and float on a Boogey Board. You don’t need to know how to swim.”
“I can swim,” expressed curtly as if she was leaving off an expletive.
This girl is keeping up her hard exterior, no smiles, defiant at every opportunity and I notice she has minimal engagement with the other girls. I found myself really liking her. I ignored her and went for a short swim, smiling at the girls that ventured into the warm water. Good- natured water fights were beginning and the first childlike exploration of the environment began. I started to relax. There had been no complaints for 10 minutes and even the overweight counselors were venturing into the river to feel the soothing weightlessness and the caress of soft water in a pool lit with brilliant summer sun.
I got out of the water, re-applied some sunscreen, took a long draught of water and sat in my strategically placed chair, sunglasses and trademark visor in place. I notice Maria wading into the water with a life jacket but pretend not to notice. Instead, I engage in conversation with Etta informing her of the great jumping rocks just a short swim upriver.
“So are you coming in or what?” beseeches Maria, still unsmiling.
“OK,” as I spring up like a Labrador going for a fetch.
I keep my distance and choose words carefully. “Not so bad, is it?”
“I’ve never been in a river before,” comes her tentative reply as she gently floats her hands back and forth, staring into the water to avoid looking at me.
“Would you like to swim across it? I will go with you.”
Her eyes flash up and I am met with another firm rejection meant to sting.
Once again, I ignore her strategy of “NO” meaning “yes, but I am scared” and swim slowly across the river and back and return to my chair observing all the interactions and rejoicing in the high pitch laughter of adolescent girls. I remark to one of the counselors, “It is about time they had some fun.”
“This is great for them,” Dina replies.
I notice out the corner of my eye that Maria has once again approached, like a menacing crocodile, I think.
I pretend not to see her but she wants my attention. We play this game for a short time but she breaks first.
“So are you gonna swim across the river with me or what?” like she could care less if I did implying she wouldn’t even if I did say yes.
As nonchalant as I can, I say, “I dunno, I’m kind of tired and have already been in twice.”
Maria wasn’t expecting that as she is used to getting her way. We let that hang in the air a few moments while she re-assesses her strategy to the amusement of an observant counselor. This time, I offer the victory and with resignation say, “OK, I’ll come in again,” pretending I didn’t really want to.
Together Maria and I floated into the deepest part of the river. Her eyes became large in wonder for it was her first experience in water where she couldn’t touch the bottom. Soon came the questions of what lived in the river.
“Are there snakes?”
“No.”
“Fish?”
“Yes”
Maria ventures, “I never swam in a river before.”
I did not correct her English but smiled and said she was doing great and we proceeded to the far bank. She was pleased; clearly aware the other girls had witnessed her swim. Maria remained guarded with a stern face but I detected a small crack in her façade.
“So do you want to climb up on those rocks and jump off?” I casually inquire implying it is something people do all the time.
“NO WAY,” like I was a lunatic asking her to race a train.
“OK, but the rocks are really warm and feel good on your feet. I’m going. Are you sure you don’t want to? I’ll help you the whole way.”
She struggles with this. She knows I am not threatening and will back off the challenge as quick as I offered it. Can she trust me? Maria is outside her comfort zone by miles. She is off the streets and on my turf now. I wait patiently taking in the beauty of my surroundings, focusing on nature, not Maria.
I hear a tentative OK from Maria but she is clearly not fully onboard but now several of the other girls and two counselors are watching us, intrigued by how this little drama will play out.
Slowly we emerge from the water and climb up on the slippery, warm rocks to stand side by side on a ledge looking down at the water. I look at Maria and reach out my hand.
She takes it.
“On the count of three we go. One…. Two…THREE!”
We splash down and it takes a second or two to surface with the sputtering Maria. I look at her.
She smiles.
