 It was the sound of many tiny things landing on my tent fly that roused me from the warmth of my sleeping bag. "It's raining", I told Chuck. I unzipped the door of the tent and peered outside. I was wrong. Snow or, at least, miniscule beads of ice, was coming down, covering our campground, tents, and gear that we had left uncovered. I glanced at my watch/thermometer. It read twenty-five degrees Fahrenheit.  Concerned that we should be snowed-in hastened our campbreak and departure. The cold, the wind, and the snow caused us to don extra layers of insulated clothing. I went to put on neoprene gloves, bought new just for this situation, and I found that I had been sold a set of gloves that contained two right hand gloves. Without the gloves to protect my hands from the bitter cold and snow I worked with frozen hands to pack and bind my gear for the day's journey. Little did I suspect that the effects of being without adequate hand protection would put me in an almost catastrophic predicament.  Our vessels rode the rapids well. They proved stable and durable for the conditions we encountered on the river. Overconfidence, however, can be one's undoing. A soaking or dunking in the frigid waters would rapidly sap the heat from a person's body and in a few minutes hypothermia could set in. 
  Before the sun Is just a bright spot in the night time Out where the rivers like to run I stand alone And take back something worth remembering.
Words from Out in the Country, by Paul Williams |
Copyright © 2004 by Enrique del Rosario
