In the swim. Rafting the New River.

The New River traces its origins to the birth of the Appalachian Mountains and an ancient river geologists call the Teays. Five hundred million years ago, the continental plates of North America and Africa collided. The energy of that collision forced the Appalachians upward. The Teays River cut through the roots of the old mountains, slowly eroding, and reshaping the landscape. In some locations the river cut 1500 feet down to create a deep canyon. This process continues today in the spectacular New River Gorge.

My day on the river began with a safety briefing on the bus ride to where we would put in. The briefing covered what to do if thrown from the raft, how an errant paddle could knock out teeth, and how to avoid the hazards of foot entrapment among the rocks and boulders on the riverbed. By the time we arrived at the put-in, I had doubts about what I was doing. There were eight in our raft. My wife and three of our sons, another couple, our guide Jared, and me.

The water was calm at the put-in, refreshingly cool but not cold. The sky was a spectacular blue with occasional cloud cover about the canyon rim. As we put out from shore, Jared reviewed what we had heard in the safety briefing as well as basic instructions on how and when to paddle. As the day wore on, we grew to expect his firm, yet calm instruction as we approached a set of rapids— “give me three forward… and give me two more.”

As we made our way down river, we passed high cliff faces, the foundations of old railroad crossings, and long-abandoned buildings where coal miners and their families once lived and worked. Jared shared the history of the river and recommended other attractions in the area. At other points he sat quietly and let us take it all in.

Jared named each section of the river like the upper, middle, and lower Keeneys. He pointed out landmarks well-known to river guides like “Dudley’s Dip,” named after West Virginia State Senator Dudley, who swallowed his “dip” tobacco while going over the steep drop of this rapid, and “Hook 99,” so named after kayaker John Harmon found himself vertically pinned against a boulder at the top of the rapid. His race bib number was 66 but as the boat was vertically pinned and now facing downstream, the number 99 was what subsequent racers saw as they came down the river.

The river held its secrets including jewelry, watches, cell phones, cameras, a biplane, and at least eight hopper cars filled with stone that had once been parked on a trestle bridge to prevent it from washing away when the river flooded its banks.

As we approached each rapid, Jared told us what to expect. Like a quarterback in a huddle guiding his team toward the next first down, he drew each play in the palm of his hand. He explained how we would be oriented as we entered each rapid and what to expect as we made our way through. Once in white water, he steered our course while instructing us when to dig in with our paddles and when to hold back.

I had the dubious honor of being the only person to leave the boat involuntarily. Everyone else jumped in to swim a quiet section of the river later in the day. Embarrassingly for me, I fell out amid an early set of class three rapids, though I am grateful the churn I fell into wasn’t as dangerous as a class four or five.

Once in the water, the contents of the safety briefing left me completely. I did manage to hold onto my paddle as instructed. Looking up from the water, I saw Jared reach down to pull me back into the raft. Try though I did, I was unable to get back in on my own. I blamed the bulkiness of my personal flotation device, all the while knowing I could not have gotten back in unassisted even if I was not wearing a life jacket.

In his book, “Speak with the Earth and it will Teach You,” Daniel Cooperrider reframes being a disciple of Jesus as being a climbing companion of the one who reveals to us the wisdom of earth and the revelation of heaven. From rivers, Cooperrider also suggests we can learn “how God’s energy, God’s love, God’s mercy flows down and floods every tiny little crack and corner of creation.”

Jesus is like a rafting guide who knows every twist and turn, every smooth and cut place in the river like the palm of his hand.

Jesus is a like a rafting guide who becomes more present to us in the approaching danger of a class five rapid, calling out firmly but not panicked— “give me three forward…and give me two more.”

Jesus hangs back a bit more in the calmer stretches of the river, enjoining us through silence and the beauty of the world around us to rest in wonder—to enjoy sunlight dancing in the leaves as it reflects off the water and the hawk circling high above the canyon.

And when we are tossed from the raft and turbulent waters threaten to overwhelm us, when we are unable to save ourselves and pull ourselves back into the raft, Jesus is like a river guide who reaches in and pulls us out.

I am thankful for my experience on the New River. I am grateful Jared pulled me out. I am grateful Jesus has done that much for me and more.