Beyond the Surface of a River

“Had you been in this spot thousands of years ago, when the frigid fingers of the great ice cap dammed the Clark Fork, creating Glacial Lake Missoula, you would be witness to a very different landscape, one with hundreds of feet of water over head. In a single day, perhaps even in a matter of minutes, those massive glacial walls that retained the millions of cubic miles of water, suffered a catastrophic collapse, draining the lake in mere hours.

The author checking out the river - Benjamin Powell

We intently listened to our guide as we meandered down a calm stretch of the Clark Fork river. His demeanor was captivating, with long grey hair that reflected the sunlight, a wide-brimmed straw hat, which had become sun bleached from his countless hours of adventure, and dark tanned skin with lean muscle that flexed as he dipped his paddle into the water. All of which spoke to his experience guiding guests down this turbulent stretch of white water, known as the Alberton Gorge, in Western Montana. From my perspective, he was the quintessential guide, the kind that is conjured in the minds of those who have ever considered these types of river characters.

We pulled into a giant eddy at the base of these massive purple cliffs, and his stories continued. “These huckleberry cliffs, and the gorge we are about to enter, were all formed and carved by the deluge of water that rushed out of Montana as glacial lake Missoula drained.

Rafts on the Clark Fork River, MT- Benjamin Powell

As the eddy circled our raft under the thousand-foot escarpments, we could faintly make out a distant roar and our guide’s demeanor shifted. He reiterated the importance of listening to the paddle commands, and that to make it through these next sections of rapids it was, “Imperative that we set ourselves up in the correct position, to have the most excitement possible, while also remaining safe.
“I’ve always likened the river to life” he said. “Sometimes when things get hectic you just need a break, a moment to sit back, rest, and reflect on where you’ve been and where you’re going. This eddy is that for us”. “Further upstream, there are no dams on the Clark Fork, because of that, the river levels fluctuate daily, and I get to see something new every time I make a run, kinda how each day is different than the last in all your lives.

As the water made one last circulation of our raft back to the head of the eddy, our guide nosed the boat at a 45-degree angle to the oncoming current and said, “There comes a time when action is required, and we must leave our individual comforts.” With that he called, “All forward”. Our paddles struck the water at the same time and we pushed out into the main flow of the river.

The current grabbed us, and the speed of the boat picked up as we progressed down river amidst these giant granite walls of the gorge. It was as if we were ants navigating deep cracks along a sidewalk. Inside the raft, excitement and nervousness was the atmosphere, we had no idea what was coming; yet our guide maneuvered us in a way that instilled confidence, and to some extent, calmed our nerves. He had positioned us on the left side of the river, and we entered a brief calm stretch, in which we passed 300ft below the bridges that supported interstate 90.

Alberton Gorge, MT - Benjamin Powell

 “We can’t control the river,” he said, “just as life can’t be controlled, but we can perform to the best of our ability and position ourselves in a way that is most beneficial to our traverse.”
His words echoed in my mind as the realization quickly came that the horizon line dropped out of view, and we couldn’t see the river beyond. He was calm, and with swift movements, he kept the boat positioned where he wanted it.

Within moments the roar of the whitewater drowned out all other noises, and with a clear bark, our guide yelled, “All forward!”. We accelerated down the tongue and into the trough as the oncoming wave loomed higher above our heads. With an impact, our boat launched into the face, displacing the curled water across our bodies, and for a moment, the bitterly cold liquid stole our breath.

“Keep going!” he yelled as he leaned out over the water and drove his paddle deep beneath the surface. After a few more large waves, we heard another yell, “Take a break!”. We rode the progressively smaller waves like a rollercoaster until the current quieted. Our guide informed us that we had just experienced what can be related to a “Turbulent period of life.” “After you’re through it, those moments that previously conveyed fear, morph into excitement and stories that you will recollect with your friends and family.” With a grin he claimed that, “the river still draws us forward, there are bigger and more turbulent trials to come, use this moment to reflect upon your successes and mistakes, to build upon your skills, both mentally and physically, and to prepare for the next.” As the walls of the gorge closed in tighter and rose higher, the rapids continued to get bigger and larger, dwarfing our raft like a lone rider disappearing between the rolling hills of the forgotten prairie.
We had come to trust our guide and not second guess his positioning of the raft. As we came to one of the final sections of white water, our guide informed us, “This is the largest and most dangerous section.”
It was here that the river was confined to its narrowest width, like a spray nozzle on a hose, and that to make it through safely, we had to perform a few precise movements and execute an effective traverse from one side of the river, through large rapids, to the other, and prepare for our final drop past a large hole that will, “eat a boat up and flip us if we make the wrong approach”. “Pay close attention to my commands, even if I say take a break, stay prepared to dig right back in, don’t relax until I say it is safe to do so.”

“All forward!” he yelled, and we began our movements. The current swiftly carried us towards a sizable wave train, and we heard an array of commands like, “forward 3”, “left forward”, “all forward”, “all back”, and “take a break but stay ready”.

As the huge hole loomed and the walls closed in, our boat gained even more speed, and the final “all forward” was called. We accelerated right in between boat ripping rocks, like the jagged teeth of some mythical beast that once inhabited that glacial lake and a hole that resembled its gaping mouth.

Rafting the Alberton Gorge- Benjamin Powell

At that moment, I lost focus, forgot to pay attention to the guide’s instructions, and was mesmerized by Medusa’s head. The guide’s commands were distantly heard but not recognized, and in my hubris, the following massive wall of whitewater struck my face like a belly flop off a high dive. Instantly, I was lifted from my seat and washed into the turbulent waters. The lights from the surface of the river faded into a dark enveloping mass, with currents pulling at me from every direction, more ferociously than a shark attacking its prey. In these moments, as I was being washed to the gullet of that whale, the metaphors and analogies spoken by the guide took deep root in my consciousness. Much of what he had said replayed in my mind, his persona and the way he related the river to life, somehow gave me a sense of calm. What seemed like a lifetime were mere seconds, and before long, I resurfaced with a gasp, and spotted the raft. Our guide was pointing at me and directing me where to swim. Within moments I felt his hands grasp my life vest, and with a swift movement, he had me back in the bottom of the boat laughing and cognizing the relationship of the statement, “flop and giggle.”

Looking into the Gorge - Benjamin Powell

Once my composure was regained and everyone was situated back in their positions, our guide administered one more piece of wisdom. “The raft is a metaphor for our bodies, and you, the guests, are the reason and willpower; the guide is but a deeper conscious understanding; it is not one piece individually that will carry us through life, but the balanced application of all. That is what permits us the safest passage through the trials and tribulations of this adventure. When one aspect falls out of the boat, the most effective course of action is to maintain understanding and composure, return to the boat, and keep paddling downstream. Sure, we can take an eddy for a moment of rest and relaxation, but the river, or life, is always running and won’t stop just because you want a break. You can’t stay in that eddy forever.

To get to the end, to make it to the takeout, the best way is to enjoy the ride, pay attention to that higher conscious instinct, and build upon your experiences. Then… pass on your knowledge to those who have yet to take the trip.”

As I reflect on that day, both the river and our guide taught me much about life. It was an experience that has shaped me deeper than most, one that is viewed as the greatest form of mentorship never pursued, a history lesson never sought, a swim that has engrained a deeper conscious understanding and a faith that within us is a guide, who knows, and has seen the way.

• By Benjmin Powell

End of a Great Day on the River- Benjamin Powell