One Step Forward, Two Steps Back

There have been very few moments in my twenty-some years of existence where I faced genuine fear over my life: July 17, 2021, was one of them.

The Susquehanna River: A major river located in the Mid-Atlantic region in the United States. The longest river on the East Coast, the Susquehanna stretches 444 miles long.

Wet hair clung to my face as the wind blew in every direction but the way we were going. The overcast sky bares thunder that echoes around us and increases my doubts of making it back to shore alive.

My paddle slices the rugged water that seemed to be harmless only an hour ago but is now my worst enemy. My arms ache as I paddle aimlessly up the Susquehanna in the light blue kayak. Panic floods my body as I look back at the small island we were docked at. Ten minutes of paddling and we have gotten nowhere.

“Brittany, I’m scared. We’re not going anywhere. I’m tired, I want to give up.”

It was more of a plea for help, but there was nothing she could do, as she too, was fighting against mother nature.

“Lauren, you can’t stop. Keep paddling or we’re never going to make it.”

I close my eyes. It almost feels as if I am in a dream. I stop paddling for one small moment to try and build up any strength in my arms that have went numb from exhaustion. I look across the murky river water to find the same rock in the same exact spot it was five minutes ago. We really are not going anywhere.

I want to give up. I want to stop paddling as the lactic acid building up in my arms burns with every rowing motion that I make. I want to give up and let the whitewater take me downstream. But I can’t let mother nature win. I can’t leave the world like this.

It’s been twenty minutes since Brittany and I left the island. I wonder if the rest of our group is watching. I paddle farther up the river with everything that I can, making very little progress, but just enough to move out of the hydraulics that have been pulling our kayaks in an endless battle of tug of war for what seemed like ages. The water stings my eyes, but I can see the shoreline is getting closer with every stroke my paddle takes.

“Lauren we’re almost to the shore. We can take a break once we get in further.”

But I want to take a break now. I want this day to end. Maybe this is just a dream.

We head straight for the trees as the water dies down near the shore. I cling onto one that is just low enough to reach and stabilize my shaking body.

Please don’t cry. You’re halfway there.

We rest for what seems like less than a minute, but enough to barely slow my heartbeat from pounding out of my chest. I don’t think I can make it any farther.

“Lauren, you go first. We must go around this branch and past the whitewater. I’ll be right behind you.”

“I don’t think I can do this.”

“We have to. There’s no other option.”

With that, I reluctantly let go of the tree that was keeping me safe and begin to paddle upstream. Hard. Except the water was stronger than before, turning my kayak completely around, heading directly back to where we can from.

“Brittany, help!”

My screams were silenced by the water as my kayak tipped and my body submerged under. My shoes were ripped from my feet and my paddle from my hand. There was nowhere to touch, and the kayak became significantly heavier with water filling up inside every second.

“Swim Lauren! Don’t let go of the kayak!”

Kicking as fast and hard as my legs will go, I make very little ground, trying to hold onto the kayak that now weighs twice as much. But I swim just close enough to be grabbed by Brittany, out of the current.

“What are we going to do now? My paddle is gone.”

“Maybe someone will see us? Try and call Dave.”

I reach for my cellphone and dial Dave’s number. It goes straight to voicemail. No signal. No one is going to find us, especially with the terrain blending us into the shoreline. I stay motionless, left with nothing but my thoughts that seem to wander to nothing good. Looking over at Brittany, she also is speechless. Is this how it’s supposed to end for us? Is this what God wants? God, please. How do we get out of this mess? I pray that someone can save us.

“Lauren, look! There’s someone in a kayak coming. It looks like Jerry.”

I inch further into the water, but not by much. I see the bright green kayak. It is Jerry. As he gets closer to us, relief begins to flood my body. At the same time, I hear a boat rip through the water. It speeds past us quickly. We yell for help, as if the fisherman could hear us over the loud motor. But now, they are much farther up the river.

I start to see Jerry’s features, with his white hair, and wrinkled skin into view. I hear another loud noise. My head immediately turns towards the direction of humming. It’s the boat. The fishermen are coming back. Maybe they’ll see us?

“Are you girls okay?” Jerry says in a breathy voice.

I notice him holding all my belongings. He must’ve found them downstream.

“Yes, we are fine, we just don’t think we can make it back.”

The boat stops as close to the shoreline and us at it can.

“Do you girls need help?”

It is a God send. We are going to be okay. Jerry and the fishermen will be able to take us and our kayaks back to shore safely. With that, Jerry holds onto our kayaks and the fishermen pull us up onto their boat at the same time. I cling to Brittany in silence, while my body falls limp from exhaustion. I don’t say anything, but I feel nothing but relief that I’ll make it back home in time for dinner.