Our Family Time Out: Some thoughts on fear

Inferno. Purgatorio. Escala de Jacobo. Terminador. Zeta. Son of Zeta. Mas o Menos. Mas o Mas. Tiburon. Throne Room. Asleep at the Wheel. Casa de Piedra. Dancing with Angels. Chaos. The Thing. Khyber Pass. Himalayas. These are just some of the rapids on the Rio Futaleufu in Patagonia, the Everest of rivers. Most are class 4 or 5. Some are class 6, by definition, unrunnable.

Panorama of the Futaleufu from the knife edge

I learned a lot about myself, and my family, during our week on the river. First, as suspected, I'm the biggest wuss among us. Second, I really love to be active and to learn new things. Third, I need to find a way to spend more time outside once I get back to New York.

In addition to running the Fu with the amazing folks at Earth River, we went hiking, kayaking, rock climbing, zip lining, rappelling, canyoning and crossed the river on a tyrolean (never even heard of that before) -- all elements of a river expedition, but in our case, done with sound instruction and much attention to safety.

Us during our flip drill on training day

Back to my point about being a wuss -- I don't normally consider myself an adrenaline junkie. My regular exercise routine consists of the same run around Prospect Park (workout plateau anyone?), hiking upstate when I can, occasional yoga classes, and a weekly core workout. During our sabbatical, my workouts had been reduced to a monthly run, sucking wind in my hiking boots. Fortunately, we had trained a bit for this by hiking in Patagonia and climbing Volcan Villarrica. A few weeks at altitude in Ecuador probably helped too.

On the river, the kids and Neil jumped into every activity with an eager smile. As for me? I'd dread and worry each night about what was coming the next day. What I learned, however, is that once you commit to trying something scary, the worst part is the anticipation.

A few times, we had to wait while our river guides scouted out the next rapid. They'd scamper around wet boulders, confer, then return to us and announce, for example, that we'd have to paddle like mad to get across the raging river, then maneuver between a few rocks in order to avoid boilers or holes, and then execute a "typewriter move" at the bottom. Huh?

That us and Jaime, followed by Dylan in a safety boat

It didn't help that I was wet and cold. As we waited for the guides to come back and tell us whether we could run the rapid, they would run it without us, or no one would run it and they'd have to line it (bring the boats through on ropes), I found myself standing on shore and pondering how to tell whether that shivery feeling in the pit of my stomach was the onset of hypothermia or unmitigated terror.

Good news! I learned to tell the difference. When you feel like throwing up, it's fear. Shaking uncontrollably with chattering teeth is just cold.

Once we got back into the boat, I'd just concentrate on doing whatever the hell Jaime, our guide, told me to do, and I forgot my fear. Or maybe I no longer realized I was afraid because I was so focused on what I was doing.

By the day we did the tyrolean, I knew I had to cut the anticipation part short. A tyrolean is not a cable car manned by a friendly guy in lederhosen and a hat. It's a cable strung across a class 6 rapid that you clip into and cross facing up at the sky, pulling yourself hand over hand. You wait around a lot to cross because each person has to be harnessed and then checked and double checked.

Neil on the tyrolean

It was actually pretty fun

Ruby handsfree and upside down!

Oscar was the first across -- he even released his hands in the middle and let Robert, our expedition leader, bounce the cable. Ruby was next, no surprise. I forced myself to go third and ... it was fine! I heard the rushing river beneath me, but all I saw was sky and my hands. Neil, who came last in our group, said that the wait was the scariest part of his week. Amen to that.

Ruby made it look easy

Looking brave before climbing

Oscar's power move

As the week wore on, I learned to live with a comfortable level of anticipatory dread. I also started to look forward, a bit, to the adrenaline rush and the post-scary activity sense of relief. Probably the most terrifying activity for me was the rappel. I have never done it or ever had a desire to try rappelling before. On the Fu, I was faced with a two stage rappel -- 150 feet each, down a rock tower. The mid station was a metal platform about 2' by 6', with two guides on it.

Yo descending above, Oscar descending just below the mid station

I'll cut to the chase and just tell you that the rappel was amazing and a highlight of the trip. I didn't get to go first -- Ruby got that honor (I would need to write a whole separate blog post about the distinct fear of watching your child disappear over the edge of a cliff). I didn't even get to go early in the group, but rather, had to wait over an hour for others to descend. It was okay. The sun was shining, I watched the emerald river snaking below, and learned to cope with my fear, dread, anticipation, and joy.

On the knife edge, pre-rappel

Ruby (in blue), first to rappel

A big part of why I loved our week on the Fu was because we learned new skills. Kids get to do this all the time, but we adults have to seek out opportunities for learning. I often think about the intellectual side -- learning Spanish or reading books -- but this week reminded me of how satisfying physical learning can be.

Ruby zip lining into the Fu

Finally, while I hope to return to Patagonia and the Futaleufu someday, I need to find a way to keep that nature connection close once I'm home. Friends and family, please remind me of that once I'm back in Brooklyn!

We are certainly hooked on river trips now. Ryan, Jaime, Peque and Dylan, maybe we'll see you on the Rogue, middle fork of the Salmon, in the Grand Canyon, or on rivers anywhere in the world. Robert and Eric, thanks for your inspiring vision and for all you've done to save the Futaleufu. To everyone on the trip, thanks for the camaraderie and company -- hope to paddle with you again!