A Once In a Lifetime Trip

Marcus has a great story to tell.  Unfortunately, he doesn't have time to sit down and write/dictate a blog post about it, so thanks to Bro Lamoreaux's pictures and my recall of Marcus' narration, I will tell you about THE CANOE TRIP FROM YOU KNOW WHERE!

This weekend, Marcus embarked on what was billed as a "once-in-a-lifetime" Young Men's canoe trip down the Verde river here in Arizona.  Leading up to it, he wasn't sure if he should go.  After all, he does have a broken elbow.  For most people, a broken elbow would be a good enough reason not to go canoeing.  Because, you know, there's all that paddling, you know.  But Marcus didn't want to miss out if it was really such an amazing trip.  So, bright and early Thursday morning, the boys and leaders set off with high hopes and excitement.  All their belongings had to travel with them in waterproof buckets, so food, sleeping bags, a change of clothes, etc. were smashed in, canoes were loaded up, and off they went.

The trip seemed like it would be great. I'm sure there were many good things about it.  The first thing that went wrong happened early: Because of the broken elbow, Marcus' adult friends told him he wouldn't have to row too much.  But he did- here he is on the first day, paddling a canoe for the first time.  He ended up paddling the whole trip.

The river level was high, which made the water much faster, and the impact of the rocks much harder.  Apparently, you can usually count on being dumped once or twice per canoe each trip.  But on this trip, the guys were dumped quite a bit more.  The rapids and collisions caused this, 

this, 

and even this.

Marcus said several of the canoes got holes in them, and they kept taking on water and sinking.  They'd have to bail or dump the water out periodically.  Combined with the wrecks, this made their progress down the river really slow.  They camped along the side of the river on Thursday and Friday nights, trying to make it down the river as much as possible each day.

It's always fun camping with these guys around.

There were also snakes (not pictured).

I'm not sure when this picture was taken, but I don't think Marcus is having a great time.

On Saturday, the boys were due home around 2 or 3.  Around dinner time, they still weren't back.  I tried Marcus' cell phone to see when they would be home, but it went straight to voice mail.  I figured he was hanging out at one of the other leader's homes, cleaning up or whatever, and just forgot to turn his phone back on.  Up on the river, they were obviously out of cell service, so I didn't really know what was going on.

After dark, they still weren't home, and now worried parents were starting to call.  I got a phone call from the bishopric asking if I knew why they were late and when they'd be home.  I was worried, but not sure if I was just overreacting.  All the "lost in the wilderness" movies were in the back of my mind, though, so I started calling anyone who might have heard from the guys.  Of course, I couldn't get a hold of anyone.  I left a message for the wife of one of the other leaders who had gone on the trip.  She called me back a bit later.  Someone had gotten a signal and was able to call in.  She told me that because of the slow progress of the canoes, they were unable to get as far as they needed to before dark.  After dark, their ride would have left without them, assuming they had made camp somewhere.  She told me they were splitting up and would be home late, late, that night.

So, the guys left Marcus and three of the boys behind so they could meet the ride.  They made the 4 hour trek home, and then one of the leaders turned right around and drove back to pick them up.  They picked up Marcus and the boys about 2:30 in the morning.  They loaded up, made the 4 hour trek again, most of it down a dark, bumpy dirt road, dropped off the boys, and then Marcus helped unload.  He got home at 8:00 am Sunday morning.

He was exhausted, in pain, and completely beat up.  He said he got about 6 hours of sleep over the entire three-day trip.  I took some pictures of his bruises this morning, three days after he got home.  Some look worse now, while some have improved.

Though we were worried because they were late, they weren't in any life-threatening danger.  Still, that same weekend, a man's body washed up downstream from where they were.  He was probably on the river at the same time.  I don't know if he drowned or if something else happened, but the forces of nature are not to be taken lightly.  I'm thankful they all returned safe and sound, if a little bruised and sore.