Wow Place #296: Snake River Rafting, Boise, Idaho
As far as river rafting goes, you could do a lot worse than the Snake River in September. The air is cool and clear; snow-capped mountain peaks tower over narrow, tree-lined gorges. It’s a spectacular setting, only marred by the fact that, this late in the season, the water is quite, shall we say, chilly. All right, it’s bone cold.
I’m 26 years old, a tour leader taking a group of young Europeans on a camping/driving tour across America. Needless to say, if my group is going rafting on the Snake River and the rafting outfit comps me the excursion, of course I’m going with them. It’s a cool fall day, and the water is running pretty choppy. As we round a bend and enter a straight stretch of river, our guide asks, “Who wants to ride point?” What he means is, does anyone want to sit at the front of the boat, holding a rope between their legs, as if they’re riding a bucking bronco? Naturally, I put up my hand. Carpe Diem etc. etc.
Riding point, I must say, is a cool experience – at least at first – kind of like sitting in the front seat of a roller coaster. I can see all the rocks and upcoming rapids before anyone else; I can feel the rushing of the water more acutely. My face is buffeted by the wind as our raft slices through the atmosphere. It’s exhilarating. And then — it happens. Seemingly as one, six to eight oars rise up from the raft and shove me in the back, pushing me head first into the river. The VERY cold river.
The water is mind-numbingly cold, as if it’s come straight from a nearby glacier. Within seconds, I’m as cold as I’ve ever been in my life. Even after I’ve been fished out by the guide, I just can’t seem to warm up. It’s not like they bring warm blankets on river rafts, either. My guess is that, this late in the year, the rafting outfit never expected someone would be crazy enough to go for a swim!
So there I am in the raft, shivering away, teeth chattering essentially a popsicle with legs — wishing I could climb inside a tub full of hot chocolate (with marshmallows), wondering, “Why did my raft mates do this? Haven’t I been a great tour leader? Don’t they love me?”
I never do get a satisfactory answer to these questions. Apparently, the action was just a collective mind meld; everyone in my tour just concluded, in a flash, that it would be hilarious to see Dave go into the water. Such are the perils of leadership, I guess.
The Snake River is certainly a Wow Place. I recommend it highly… But if you do go, go in mid summer. And if possible, leave your tour group behind.
(Leadership is tricky. On the one hand, you want to connect with the people you’re leading. You want to be seen as benevolent, caring and fair. At the same time, you’re not their equal; you’re not their friend. Your job is to organize the system so people feel safe enough to get things done in an efficient, organized way. Inevitably, however, the people in your charge will come to see themselves as the ”underlings,” and you as the “boss.” This kind of bonding happens all the time. Hopefully, it’s a light-hearted bonding and they’ll look on their “boss” with affection. But still, there is a distance, a power dynamic. In a healthy environment, people joke about their leader in a light-hearted way. They roast him/her at a party. They acknowledge the separation without charging it with acrimony. Sometimes the best you can do is smile at your team’s camaraderie and esprit de corp…even if it’s at your own expense…even then laugh as they throw you out of the boat.)