White water rafting

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Today we got up at 6 to meet the van at 7 AM outside our hostel. We had signed up the previous day with Panama Rafters to be taken on a white water trip down the Chiriqui Viejo river. After a two-hour drive (the river runs along the Costa Rica-Panama border), we arrived at our starting destination. We slide down the hillside to get to the river, with our guides (two boat leaders, one guide-in-training, and one local girl who had rafted this river before) pushing and maneuvering the rafts down the hill.
We set out on our 17 km ride in two boats, one guide, three girls, and one trainee in each. Lee, Katrina, and I named ours “Team Tíburon” (shark, which was also related to an inside joke that’s not worth explaining). I voted for the Jaws theme as our background music as we went down.
Even though this is the dry season, it means that the rapids were Class III and IV, not V. And because this was what the company owner called a “pool drop” river, there were periods of rapids followed by calm sections. Our guides were good about telling us when to paddle, and not forcing us to keep charging down the river the whole time. They took care of all of the steering from the back, yelling out “All Forward!” or “Stop!” or whatever at the appropriate time. We had time to look at the wildlife on the sides of the river, not to mention the locals who were swimming or fishing in certain areas. At one point we passed a group of young boys who decided to commandeer a ride, swimming to the side and jumping inside the rafts for awhile. Since it was a part that didn’t have rapids, the lack of helmets and room didn’t really matter.
At other calm points in the river, our guides had a habit of attacking us, pushing us out of the rafts. These guys were strong (one pulled my dead weight back up into the raft by himself when it was time to stop swimming). No one escaped getting thrown overboard. After these periods of swimming, dunking, and much splashing, we actually had moments of rapids too.

I can’t count how many sections of rapids there were. The Class II, III, and IV were interspersed together, so it was hard to tell what classified as a “rapid” or not.

Technically, according to the company owner, we handled 91 rapids along that 17 km. (As Carmel joked, “A dollar a rapid! And the equipment is free!”)

It took us until about 4 PM that afternoon to complete, with a nice lunch break in between. I was amazed at how waterproof the food containers were, considering that it was definitely underwater for a fair amount of time. Why? Now comes the best part: the flips and falls. The other raft went before us on one section, one of the Class IV, and hit a rock. The raft rocked roughly to one side, and as Carmel yanked Paige into the raft to keep her from flying out, she went out, floating down the rest of the rapid by her lonesome (yeah for keeping your feet up, Carmel). Paige and Allison were kind of pinned by the overturned raft, but they were fine. Our guide purposefully lodged us on top of a rock while he and two guides from another rafting company helped them to turn the raft upright. Then it was our turn to go down, and after witnessing that, we were a little nervous. But we made it down, all went well. Carmel was waiting at the side of the calm section around the bend with the other company’s rafters, with nothing but a scratch on her ankle to show as her battle wound.

Later on, in what I believe was a Class III, there was a large drop that the other raft managed first, while our guide took pictures of them. Then on our turn, it went down at enough of an angle that the left side went up too high, dumping those of us on the right (Katrina and myself) into the river. Luckily that was the end of the rapid really, so we just floated into the calm section and hopped (ok, I was pulled since I have no upper-body strength) into the raft.
The entire time the water was clear and cool, the sun shining, and we were all having a good time. I like white water rafting, I have decided, although it seems like an expensive and kinda dangerous hobby. I’m glad it is the dry season though, because in the wet those Class IV (especially the one that dumped Carmel) turn into Class V or VI, and we wouldn’t have been allowed to ride them without previous experience. Everyone except for Paige and I had been whitewater rafting before, although they said it wasn’t as long or as intense as this one. They said this was the best that they had experienced.

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