The first 40 miles of the river are some of the most technical, and a quick time is needed in the Texas Water Safari to make the cut-off. We did this run last Sunday, and made it 2 hours ahead of the cut-off. We all feel pretty confident going into the race this weekend, and are all too excited to sleep very well. Every time I close my eyes I either see a sweeper or a vision I've conjured from one of the many stories I've read about others' experiences of this thing. One of the best I've read was not from a Water Safari racer, but from Robert Louis Stevenson:
I was aware of another fallen tree within a stonecast. I had my back-board down in a trice, and aimed for a place where the trunk seemed high enough above the water, and the branches not too thick to let me slip below…. The tree caught me about the chest, and while I was yet struggling to make less of myself and get through, the river took the matter out of my hands and bereaved me of my boat. The Arethusa swung round broadside on, leaned over, ejected so much of me as still remained on board, and, thus disencumbered, whipped under the tree, righted, and went merrily away down stream.
I do not know how long it was before I scrambled on to the tree to which I was left clinging, but it was longer than I cared about…. The stream ran away with my heels as fast as I could pull up my shoulders, and I seemed, by the weight, to have all the water of the [River] Oise in my trousers' pockets. You can never know, till you try it, what a dead pull a river makes against a man. Death himself had me by the heels…. And still I held to my paddle. At last I dragged myself onto my stomach on the trunk, and lay there a breathless sop, with a mingled sense of humor and injustice…. On my tomb, if ever I have one, I mean to get these words inscribed: He clung to his paddle.
God save us!
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