"I rode myself into the ground But hell, it's almost over now I don't see nothing but the light"

-Ben Nichols-

Laying exhausted on the bank we watched the last remnants of twilight fade to black. Sipping our water we were slowly regaining  our conciseness to the real world.   We had put on Pocket Creek with three other boaters making a group of five.  The water was high and the sun was quickly fading to the west. (what little sun there was  on a cloudy, stormy day) There was no time for mistakes, after a swim by one the members of our group it was determined we should start hiking out back to the car.We were only 3 rapids in and we had less than an hour of daylight left.  This decision of hiking out was unacceptable to me. I knew we could make it to the bottom, especially if the group dwindled down to me and Chris; I also knew that hike back to the car was going to be hell. So with little daylight left, Chris and I  hopped in our boats and began our fast paced, high water decent of the gorge.

After the first rapid as a duo we realized the seriousness of our undertaking.  The water was high, the rapids were steep, and there was no margin for error.  I had paddled this run several times, but it was only Chris' second trip.  So it was determined we had no time for scouts, Chris would just follow closely behind me and I would shout directions and hope he heard them.    As we paddled down the creek at race pace, we knew we had one rapid we had to walk.  We quickly found a rhythm and fell into "the zone."  Racing to the portage rapid my arms felt like rubber and my lungs burned.   I was paddling as fast as I possibly could just reacting to the water and the rapids.   There was no thought or decisions; it was flow.  The river became a blur.   Catching the last eddy above the portage, we had maybe five minutes of  daylight and two large rapids left. As we scrambled around the rapid I could tell we were both spent.  We were falling and gasping for air as we portaged.   I just kept saying to Chris, "ONLY TWO MORE!"    It was total tunnel vision for us.  I had pushed my body and mind to the limit, and I knew it had to go a little farther.  We were almost there, we could see the light at the end of the tunnel. 

We quickly climbed back into our boats and slipped on our spray skirts.  We could barely muster the power to peal out from the eddy, how were we going to muster the energy to run the final two V+ rapids.   As I started down stream everything seemed to go from a blur to slow motion.  I could see each individual ripple and wave as I descended the final two rapids.  After successfully descending the final two rapids, we quickly paddled the run out to the trail.

As we sipped our water at the take out we slowly realized what we had done.   We had run a river that usually took about two hours to run in forty-five minutes.  It was high water, hard rapids, and we were pushing the brink of disaster.  We had gone way outside our comfort zones and pushed ourselves to the limits of our paddling abilities. Not since the Middle Kings had I pushed myself to my limits like that.  It felt really good.  Every once in a while I think you need this. Maxing out your ability, stress level, and mental focus; not only allows you to see your actual limits, but it allows you to see the strength you really possess.  Only in pushing yourself to the brink of failure can you get a glimpse of your potential.