The Roar of the Falls

A favorite bike trail of mine parallels a breathtaking mountain stream. Following heavy rains or snow melts, it becomes breathtaking for another reason—to use a bit of river rafting terminology, it becomes big and scary. As in the days of Noah, the deluge draws boat people—kayakers in particular. There is one series of stair stepped falls that must be intimidating, even to kayakers, because on big-water days you see the telltale signs of them making a portage around the falls. I don’t blame them. Whenever I see that cascade of water at its fullest I think: there are only two things that go over that falls--fish droppings and fools.

Last month, after two warm days with heavy snow melts, I was biking up the trail when it began snowing. As I pedaled away, thinking that I was the only one crazy enough to be out here in such weather, I came upon four guys standing at the foot of the falls in rapt discussion. Their elaborate garb gave them an alien appearance—kind of a cross between football and water sports with full face guard helmets and padded wet suits with floatation devices. Kayakers in the snow! And they were at the falls contemplating going over? Stopping was the only option. This was also a great opportunity to test my people analysis skills. They all did a lot of pointing. Two of them frowned a lot and shook their heads. The other two had that odd gleam in their eyes associated with contact sports and nodded vigorously. For once I had gotten to the show on time. Where is the buttered popcorn when you need it?

After their survey, all four ascended above the falls and the first two guys, we’ll call them Sane One and Sane Two, returned carrying their kayaks and climbed down to a good rescue position. This was a great relief because I was wearing my brand new Rocky S2V boots and didn’t want to get them wet. In a few minutes the other two guys, we’ll call them Wildman One and Wildman Two, came into view wearing kayaks and staging themselves above the falls. Wildman One went first and aimed for the center plume of the fall where the water was fullest and fell almost vertically. It was awesome. I have heard that urinating inside a wet suit is one field expedient way to heat it up; if so, he was undoubtedly comfortable. Unfortunately, he came out of the hydraulic upside down and spent the next several heart-pounding seconds successfully performing a corrective roll. Hand out kayaking medal number one. Wildman Two followed the exact same route and performed flawlessly coming out of the churning water in perfect form. Hand out kayaking medal number two. By now a couple of other bikers had stopped and we spontaneously gave all the kayakers a standing ovation. Considering the weather, one biker spoke for us all when she said, “And I thought we were crazy!”

Some of our favorite stories from the Old Testament involve people being rescued through dangerous waters. Noah sailed safely above, Moses marched safely through, and Jonah floated safely below. But all were delivered through the waters. The ancient listener would have probably smelled the salty sea air whenever Isaiah 43:1-7 was read reminding them of these patriarchs of the faith. Verses 1-2 declare “Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name; you are Mine! When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they will not overflow you.” Christians today might find a metaphorical application and comfort from these verses as well. Sometimes the peaceful waters of life become intimidating rivers. Notice how God does not promise us continual “flat water canoeing” on idyllic lakes. Sometimes the flat water turns to falls and it becomes time to get into kayak mode. A key to remember when you find yourself kayaking the falls is not that God has forgotten you but rather that he will be with you in the midst of it.