The Call of the Rapids

The New River Gorge, a place where the wild heart of West Virginia beats strongest, called out to me. As someone who has scaled the heights of the Andes and plunged into the depths of the Grand Canyon, the promise of Class III/IV rapids was a siren song I couldn’t resist. My crew of thrill-seekers and I arrived at the BaseCamp, greeted by the crisp morning air and the promise of adventure. Our guide, Monroe, affectionately known as “Special Ed,” was a local legend. His reputation for humor and expertise preceded him, and he did not disappoint.

As we boarded the bus to the river, Monroe’s comedic flair was immediately apparent. His jokes and stories had us in stitches, but beneath the laughter was a wealth of knowledge about the river’s history and lore. The New River, one of the oldest rivers in the world, carved its way through the Appalachian Mountains, and Monroe knew every twist and turn. His “attitude checks” were a rallying cry, a reminder that we were a team, united in our quest to conquer the rapids.

Conquering the Rapids

The river was a living, breathing entity, its waters frothing and churning with a primal energy. As we hit our first rapid, the adrenaline surged through my veins, a familiar and exhilarating sensation. Monroe’s commands were clear and precise, his voice cutting through the roar of the water. We paddled in unison, our movements synchronized, a testament to the camaraderie Monroe had fostered.

The rapids were relentless, each one a new challenge, a new thrill. The Class IV rapids tested our mettle, but under Monroe’s expert guidance, we navigated them with precision. The river demanded respect, and we gave it willingly, knowing that one misstep could send us tumbling into its icy embrace. But Monroe’s confidence was infectious, and his humor a balm that eased any tension.

At the halfway point, we pulled ashore for a riverside lunch. The spread was impressive, a feast that refueled our bodies and spirits. As we sat by the river, sharing stories and laughter, I felt a deep sense of gratitude for this moment, for the wild beauty of the New River Gorge, and for the camaraderie of my fellow adventurers.

The Final Stretch

The second half of our journey was no less thrilling. The rapids continued to challenge us, but we met each one with determination and a sense of adventure. Monroe’s “attitude checks” became a rallying cry, a reminder of the bond we had formed on this wild river.

As we approached the New River Gorge Bridge, its towering arch a testament to human ingenuity, I felt a sense of awe. The bridge, once the longest single-span arch bridge in the world, was a fitting backdrop for the conclusion of our adventure. We paddled beneath its shadow, our spirits high, our hearts full.

Back at BaseCamp, as we disembarked from the raft, I felt a sense of accomplishment. The New River had tested us, challenged us, and ultimately, rewarded us with memories that would last a lifetime. Monroe’s humor and expertise had made the journey unforgettable, and as I bid farewell to the river, I knew I would return. The call of the rapids is a call I will always answer.