Rapid Descent

It didn't help that the day was wet and dark, with a wind chill that sent the perceived temperatures into the 40's. The drive to the station had been dismal. The skies had opened, dropping more than half an inch of rain between 7:30 and 8:00 AM, just in time to drench the men of the A shift as they each made a mad dash from their cars to the station.

With hair and shoes still wet from the downpour, the crew grumbled through roll call, complained about the prospect of having to hang hose on such a day, and then headed for the kitchen. Captain Stanley waited until each man had settled at the table before raising the last item on the agenda. He hoped that a cup of hot coffee and a donut would help ease the discontent that he was about to inflict. It didn't.

"Okay, men, listen up. I have one more announcement."

Stanley waited until all of the men were looking at him before continuing.

"The county has hired a consultant to look into staff morale and team building." Immediate groans around him eliminated any hopes the captain had about this going well.

"Hey, no comments from the peanut gallery until you hear what I have to say, okay?"

"Yeah, Cap. But you know that any announcement that starts with the word 'consultant' is gonna be bad," Chet threw in, ignoring his boss's request.

"Shut up and let the man talk, Chet," Johnny said. Reaching for a donut, he inadvertently sprayed Chet with water from his still wet mane as his head turned quickly.

"Jeez, Gage. Next time dry your hair, or don't sit next to me after you've been out in the rain!"

Johnny responded by leaning closer to Chet and shaking his head vigorously in the man's face.

"Hey! Stop that! Cap, did you see that? Are you gonna let him get away with that?"

"This coming from the man who amuses himself by finding new ways to get me soaking wet each shift. Can dish it out but you can't take it, huh Chet?"

"That's enough! Both of you!" Cap frowned at them. "Honestly, you two are worse than my daughter and her friends, and they're only in junior high! You know, I was going to tell HQ that we didn't need any team building, but maybe I was wrong."

Both men looked with surprise at the man sitting at the head of the table. Cap never got involved in their squabbles. Chet and Johnny mumbled "sorry, Cap" at the same time, glared at each other, and said nothing more.

Captain Stanley waited to see if the argument was really over before he continued.

"The consultants recommended that the county participate in a new project designed to promote team work and cohesiveness in fire departments. HQ agreed, but only on a trial basis. We've been selected to be their trial."

A new round of groans was issued at this revelation.

"Uh, Cap, what exactly do they want us to do?" asked Roy.

"I don't care what anyone says, I refuse to play the chuckle belly game with you guys." This came from Marco. All eyes shifted in his direction.

Gage spoke around the donut in his mouth. "Yeah, what he said. I don't know what the chuckle belly game is, but I'm sure not playing it with you guys."

"What, exactly, is a chuckle belly game?" Mike wanted to know.

"My cousin had to play it at work. Everyone lies down on the floor on their backs, forming a circle. You lay your head on the next person's belly. Then everyone laughs. It's supposed to help you get to know each other."

"I just want to say, right here and now, that I don't want to know any of you that well," Chet announced.

"Yeah, well there's nothing in here about chuckles or bellies, thank God," Cap told his men. "But, if you want to know what is here, I'll be glad to tell you, if you give me a chance."

Once again the men were silent, so Stanley continued. "On Monday, April 18^th the department is flying us to Denver. We'll drive from there to a small town where we'll be met by an outfitter who will take us on a 3 day, 2 night whitewater rafting trip. The outfitter will provide the raft, the guide, the tents, and the food. The rest of the supplies are up to us."

"Well, all right!" Johnny grinned from ear to ear. "I've always wanted to go whitewater rafting on a big river. This is great! Guys, we're gonna have a great time!"

Mike was less enthused. "Uh, Cap? Do you know how the time thing is going to work? I mean, we'll miss, what, two shifts? Not that I don't appreciate the department doing this for us . . I guess . . but Patty was counting on us using our vacation to visit her sister in Oregon this summer. I already promised her we would, and if I back out now, well, I might just as well not go home."

"Says here that the trip is considered work time. We get paid. They'll have other shifts pull doubles to cover the shifts we miss. We'll be expected to the do the same when their turn comes."

"Why us?" Roy wanted to know.

Stanley shrugged. "They drew straws, I guess. I don't know. I just know that if it works for us, they're sending more teams each week until the whole department has gone."

"And if it doesn't work for us?" Chet asked.

"I don't know. I guess the whole thing gets called off."

"Uh, Cap?" The surprisingly timid voice came from Marco.

"You okay there, pal? You look a little green."

"Yeah, I'm okay. What happens if one of us can't go? Let's say, like, one of us gets sick at the last minute or has some kind of family emergency or something like that? Will they make us go later with someone else? Will they cancel for everybody? Or will they just skip us?"

"I'm not sure, but I guess they'd cancel the whole thing. It is supposed to be about teamwork, right?"

"Well, that's it then. We don't have to go," Chet announced.

"Why, are you planning on getting sick, Kelly?" Johnny jabbed at his sometimes nemesis.

"No, Gage. I just figure that with your track record, we've got about a 50-50 chance that you'll be injured at the time. If you aren't, well, we can take care of that."

Johnny growled at Chet, then turned back to the others, once again smiling. "You know, guys, this really is gonna be great! Dwyer went rafting last summer. He was telling me all about it. It's hard work, but it's a gas. Riding down a river in the middle of nowhere. You have to stay focused, really pay attention, and he said you really do have to work as a team. It's wild, but it sounds like a whole lot of fun!"

"Well," Roy joined the conversation again, "I think I agree with Johnny. If the department is willing to fly us to Colorado to spend 3 days rafting on a remote, wild river, who am I to protest? God knows, Joanne won't object. I can't get her to even go out on a pond in a canoe. She'll be thrilled that I'm doing this with someone other than her."

"You're going to do what?"

Okay, maybe Joanne would object.

Roy wondered why he was surprised at his wife's reaction. He really should have known.

"What are they thinking? Don't they put you in enough danger just doing your job? Now they're going to put you on a river in the middle of nowhere with some granola and a compass and say: 'See you in three days. Hope you all survive.' I can't believe you agreed to this! You do know about the paddlers who died in the Grand Canyon last spring, right? And they were experienced at this stuff. What makes you all think you can do this? Is it just because you're firemen? This is ridiculous!"

"Are you finished?" Roy asked his wife.

"For the moment. I'm sorry, but honey, this is crazy."

"Look, Jo, I don't think the department would be send us if they thought it was dangerous. We made some calls. The trip isn't on the Colorado. It won't be like the one those people died on last year. And we'll have a guide. Nothing bad is going to happen. I promise. Okay?"

"No, it's not okay….. But then it's not okay when you leave for work in the morning either, and I've learned to cope with that. So, I guess I'll cope with this too. But I swear, Roy DeSoto, if you come back with so much as a scratch, you'll not only have to answer to me, but you'll have to answer to my mother. Got that?"

Now that sent a shiver down the man's spine. "No scratches, honey, I promise."

"Hey, Marco, what's for lunch?"

"Enchiladas."

"Anything I can do to help?"

"No! No necesito ninguna ayuda. Puedo cocinar una enchilada sencilla sin ayuda. Yo no soy incompetente!!" The words had been muttered under Marco's breath. He hadn't meant them to be heard or understood. Johnny did both, but acknowledged neither.

"Oh. . okay . . well . .. "

Johnny stared at Marco for a moment, then beat a hasty retreat from the kitchen, as he tried to comprehend the man's recent strange behavior. Marco had been surly, at best, and his foul mood seemed to be getting worse instead of better. His warm and friendly manner had been replaced by terse answers accompanied by muttered Spanish. Walking over to the Squad, Johnny pulled out the trauma box and set it down next to his partner.

"Hey, Roy . . what's wrong with Marco?"

Looking up from the drug box, Roy shrugged before answering.

"I don't know. He has been kind of moody, lately."

"Kind of? Shoot, he's worse than Chet! I just offered to help with lunch and he lit into me about being able to cook an enchilada without my help."

"Well, maybe we should just give him some space then."

The two men worked silently for only a few minutes before Johnny slammed his hand down on top of the box. Roy glared at his partner as he picked up the bags of saline he'd dropped.

"You know something, Roy? It must have something to do with the trip!"

"What makes you say that?"

"Think about it. He started acting strange a couple weeks ago, right after Cap told us about the whitewater trip."

"Could be just a coincidence, Johnny."

"No, I think you're right, Gage. He's probably just upset 'cause he's going to be spending three whole days in a raft with you. I know I am."

"Chet!"

Kelly leaned back against the engine as he watched the two paramedics.

"Well, if it's not being with you that has him upset, maybe he's not looking forward to giving up the comforts of home. Guess I could have a talk with him; tell him about this great sporting goods store I found. You should see the gear I picked up last Saturday."

"What kind of gear?" Johnny's curiosity was peaked. It was no secret that he was an avid camper, and talk of camping equipment was certain to catch his interest.

"Oh, just some of the basics, like an insulated pack for my stuff, and a new sleeping bag."

"What kind of bag did you buy, Chet? Canvas or nylon? Three pound or four?"

"Huh?"

Chet seemed somewhat confused at Johnny's pointed questions, but he recovered quickly.

"I don't know about all that stuff, Gage. But it's sure going to be comfortable to sleep in. The salesman assured me that it's the softest bag they sell."

"Soft? Who cares about soft? You need to be concerned about warmth, and durability." Johnny shook his head at the stocky fireman, surprised at his obvious disregard for the details.

"Hey, Gage, it's down-filled, okay? I told the guy we were camping in the canyons of Colorado, and this is what he recommended. It's lightweight, packs small, and works in all temperatures. Said it's the best bag they carry. That's all I need, or want, to know!"

Johnny covered his mouth as he struggled to control his amusement. He laughed openly when he caught sight of Chet's expression.

"I, uh, don't suppose you mentioned that we'd be travelling in a whitewater raft between campsites, did ya?"

"Why would I? We're not sleeping on the river, you know. Just wait, Gage, you'll be wishing you had a sleeping bag like mine, and then we'll see who's laughing."

Roy couldn't help but chuckle as he watched Chet glare at them before stomping off towards the dorm.

"Well, Johnny, you may not have figured out Marco's problem, but I think you just nailed Chet's."

"One thing's for sure. Neither of them is worried about what their wives think."

The two men looked up in surprise, as Mike joined the conversation. Johnny couldn't help but grin at the man's tone of voice, especially as he caught sight of the hangdog look on the engineer's face. His smile quickly disappeared when Roy joined in.

"I know what you mean. Joanne is not thrilled about this trip. In fact, she's dead-set against it. Seems that some rafters drowned during a trip down the Colorado last year, and she's sure that we'll meet up with some kind of disaster, too."

"Sounds like she and Patty have been comparing notes. Even after I told her that a professional river guide would be going along, she still didn't like the idea. I've spent most of the past week trying to convince her that the trip is safe, and I'm still not sure she really believes it."

"Yeah . . same here. Joanne made me promise that nothing would happen to me. If I come home with as much as a scratch, she'll have my hide." Roy added.

Johnny stared at the two men in shocked surprise.

"You're not going to let your wives ruin this trip, are you? Come on, guys! This is the chance of a lifetime. The department is not only sending us on an expensive vacation, they're paying us for our time, to boot! We should be thanking our lucky stars, not sitting here worrying about upsetting the women."

"Hey, Pal, you might not have to worry about upsetting the women, but some of us have to live with them," a familiar voice chastised.

Johnny swallowed hard as Captain Stanley joined the group.

"Uh . . yeah, well . . sorry, Cap."

"No problem, John. Couldn't help overhearing your discussion, but I have to agree with Mike and Roy. My wife isn't too thrilled about the trip either. It's a good thing we leave in a couple days, 'cause she's pretty anxious about the whole thing, and I'll be sort of glad when it's all over. Guess we'll just have to be a little extra careful, right men?"

"Yeah."

"Sure, Cap."

The two voices were not joined by a third. Instead, Johnny trudged off toward the dormitory, grumbling sullenly under his breath.

". . spend the whole time worrying about their wives . . spoil the whole trip. 'nother good reason to stay single. Hmmm, wonder if Chet knows what happens to down when it gets wet . . ."

The first run of the day landed the paramedics at Rampart, and as Roy exited the treatment room, he found his partner engaged in an animated conversation with Dixie and Dr. Brackett. Roy didn't have to hear the words to know what was being discussed. The looks of joyful anticipation and excitement on Johnny's face meant he could only be talking about one thing, the upcoming rafting trip.

"I see Johnny's been filling you in on the county's latest brainchild."

"Well now, that sounds less than enthusiastic, Roy," Brackett pointed out. "I would have guessed you'd love this type of trip."

"Oh, he'd love it, alright! It's the little lady at home that's putting all the doubts in his head. Left to his own devices, he'd be jumping at the chance."

Roy rolled his eyes in response. He'd had this conversation with his partner numerous times since Johnny had left the bay mumbling this morning. Roy was about to explain, but Johnny was talking once again.

"I mean, really, don't ya think that even married guys should be able to go off and have fun once in while? Huh?"

"You know, Johnny, I've never gotten the impression that Roy here feels particularly hen pecked or trapped," Dixie pointed out, defending the quieter of the two men.

Johnny opened his mouth again to speak, but this time Roy cut him off. "He's just worried that us married guys are going to somehow ruin the trip for the single guys because our wives are worried."

"Well, ya hafta admit…."

Roy didn't let him finish. "What I have to admit is that I would rather be taking this trip with just you, or maybe you and Chet. Then I would be really excited about it."

"Huh?"

Roy looked at Dix and Doctor Brackett. They were clearly just taking all this in. He shrugged and continued. There didn't need to be any secrets here.

"Honestly, if I was just with the two of you, I wouldn't worry about anything. I know you both can handle yourselves in the water. But the others, well, it's not that I don't trust them, I trust them with my life, but I've never seen them in the water. And suddenly finding yourself upside down in a rapid is different than suddenly finding yourself surrounded by flames. And honestly, I think Marco is scared out of his wits but doesn't know how to say it.

As for Joanne, she'll be okay. She's use to worrying about me."

Johnny didn't know what to say. Roy had just deflated his argument, so he went back to describing the joys of communing with nature.

"Well," Kelly Brackett threw in before he went to start his rounds, "I hope you guys have a great time. Oh, and Dix, why don't you make them up a special first aid package just in case anyone ends up on the injured list in the middle of nowhere."

The countywide wake-up tones sounded far too early on the morning of April 17^th. At least they seemed too early to the men of Station 51, who had responded to a total of four separate calls during the night hours. Grunts and groans were heard throughout the dorm, as joints were forced into action and muscles were stretched beyond their comfort zone, all operating on less than adequate time for rejuvenation after the workout they had been put through.

"Oy!" Cap mumbled as he bent over to reach a boot that had been kicked out of place. Noting that he was not the only one voicing sounds of discomfort, he said, "Gentlemen, we best be careful. We're sounding like our fathers way too early in life."

"Speak for yourself, Cap." Roy said, heading for the kitchen, "My father never sounded as bad as we just did. I sure am glad to know that we're gonna impress that river guide with our physical prowess."

That comment elicited more groans as the men followed him across the bay, and toward the coffee pot that promised salvation.

"Okay, is everybody clear on what happens Monday?" Cap handed out mugs, then sat at the table with the others as they waited for the coffee to brew. Cap went through the travel plans, step by step, leaving out no detail. The men sat politely, only half listening. There was no real need. They had reviewed the itinerary countless times. But if doing it again would relieve some of Cap's anxiety, they wouldn't complain.

"Once we get to the Denver Airport, we'll pick up our rental car and head to the Eagle's View Motel. The outfitter will meet us out in front of the motel at 5:30 AM on Tuesday morning."

Cap finally stopped to take a breath. "Any questions or regrets?" he asked, looking directly at Marco. As expected, however, Marco said nothing and the men headed home, each hoping for a day of uninterrupted sleep prior to their adventure.

Johnny looked out the window of the 747, captivated by the view below.

"Look at those mountains, Roy! I'd forgotten how beautiful the Rockies are from up here. Aren't they fantastic?"

"Yeah, they are incredible. Wish Joanne and the kids could see this."

A stewardess moved down the aisle as a light flicked on overhead.

"It's time to fasten your seatbelts, Gentlemen. We'll be landing in just a few minutes."

"Thanks."

Johnny watched her walk away, his focus now successfully shifted from the landscape below to the view inside the aircraft.

"You won't have time to meet her, you know."

The scowl that Johnny turned towards his partner would've been the perfect start for a typical Gage rant, but across the aisle, Cap was putting his things in order and was already starting to organize his men.

"Mike, as soon as we land, you and I will find the rental agency, and sign for the car. Roy, make sure you get our bags, too. We'll meet you guys by the ticket counter in, say, twenty minutes?"

A snicker from behind Johnny caused him to turn slightly in his seat. Chet was covering his mouth with one hand, and his stomach with the other. Even Marco was grinning slightly, and that in itself, was enough to bring a smile to Johnny's face.

"What's so funny?"

When Cap turned to look at them, Johnny realized they had been overheard. Managing to flash one of his reassuring grins, Gage was grateful when his captain turned back towards the front.

"Chet? What are you laughing at?"

"Cap. Just watch him, Gage. He's gonna have an attack before this trip is over. The brass sure must've given him some kind of lecture about getting us to work together. Cap's so nervous about doing everything just right. Can you imagine what would happen if we got lost, or someone fell out of the boat? Poor guy would probably turn in his resignation."

Marco must've elbowed Chet about the same time that Roy bumped Johnny. The two "ow's" were like an echo, but Captain Stanley didn't seem to notice.

Minutes later, the plane had touched down and was moving toward the gate. With their captain's instructions still fresh in their minds, the men of Station 51 hurried through their tasks and met at the front entrance.

Hank was still in command mode, and after looking over his luggage he motioned to Chet.

"We'll be back to pick you guys up in a couple minutes. Come on, Kelly, you can come with me."

His eyes rolling heavenward was Chet's answer, but he dutifully followed his captain through the large glass doors. The two men had no sooner disappeared from sight, than the rest of the crew turned to Marco. Mike took the lead as he questioned the quiet fireman.

"What's wrong, Marco? You haven't said two words since you got to the house this morning. Is everything all right?"

Roy was quick to add his concerns.

"Is there something bothering you? You know we'll be glad to help, you just need to tell us what the problem is."

"Come on, Marco. We're your friends; you can level with us. Chet won't be back for a few minutes, so tell us what's got you so upset."

Johnny stared at Marco, waiting impatiently for the man to answer. He'd been hoping that Chet's absence would make the difference, but that didn't seem to be the case. Marco simply stood quietly beside them, his face wearing an expression of mild irritation.

"There's nothing wrong, guys. I'm just not fond of travelling, that's all."

Mike, Roy and Johnny exchanged glances, none of them convinced that Marco was being in the least bit honest with them, but unsure of how hard to push the man.

"Hey, look at the car they've got!"

Marco's stilted voice was confirmation to his co-workers. Something was bothering him, but what? However, the man in question was already hurrying out the door, his arms full of sleeping bags and backpacks.

Muttering in frustration, the three men gathered the rest of their belongings, and followed Marco outside. It was obviously going to be harder than they thought. Mike voiced what they were all hoping.

"Maybe Cap can get him to talk . . ."

Either the county had been misled about the quality of the Eagle View Motel, or they had gotten a really cheap deal. Johnny had noted that any self-respecting eagle would never have allowed himself to be "viewed" within miles of the run down establishment. Between the glare and the hum emanating from the blue neon "eagle" waving at passing cars out front, the constant skitter of bugs of all varieties running across the floor, and the overpowering smell of cigarettes and cigars that lingered in the air, the curtains and the bedding, the men from Station 51 were more than ready to be waiting in the parking lot as the sun began to rise at 5:15 AM.

The morning air was cold and dank. As the crew waited outside in the parking lot, woolen sweaters were quickly retrieved from the packs. While they waited for their guide, Johnny pulled a large bag out of his backpack.

"Um, guys, I forgot to give you these last night. I got them for ya after our last shift." Johnny handed around a variety of brightly colored, large, rubber bags. "They're dry sacs for your sleeping bags. It will keep them from getting wet if you seal them up tight. You might want to shove a pair of shorts and socks in there as well."

"I don't know what to say, John. These are great, thanks." Cap selected an orange bag and began trying to figure out how to open it.

"Here, let me help ya with that, Cap." Johnny showed Captain Stanley and the others how to manipulate the seal.

"They sure are bright. You'll be able to see these things miles away," Mike commented as he pushed and shoved at his sleeping bag to make it fit into the sac.

"That's the idea. We should be able to attach them right to the raft, but if we go over and one gets away, you don't exactly want it to be a color that blends in with the river bank."

"Hey Johnny," Marco spoke for the first time all morning, "these things can't be cheap. We must owe ya something."

Johnny beamed. "Nah, I had a credit at the place I buy my camping stuff. I didn't need anything, and after Chet was talking about his sleeping bag the other day, I realized you guys probably didn't have anything to keep your bags dry, so I decided to get these. Think of them as a really early Christmas present."

Suddenly feeling like he'd been one upped, Chet tossed the bag back to Johnny. "Thanks, Gage, but no thanks. My sleeping bag came with a stuff sac all its own."

Johnny was surprised, though he shouldn't have been. "You know, Chet…" he began. Roy cut him off.

"Chet, use the dry sac. You've got a great sleeping bag but it's gonna be useless if it gets wet. Down loses all its insulating qualities the minute it gets wet. It clumps and takes forever to dry."

Johnny tossed the bag back to Chet and wisely said nothing more. If Chet was going to respond, he didn't have a chance. A small bus was pulling into the parking lot. The near twenty-foot raft on its roof left no doubt that their ride had arrived. Recalling Roy's comment from the previous morning, the men all straightened up and did their best to look impressive and fit as two young men jumped off the bus.

"Hi, I'm Doug Frasier. This is Barry, and from the looks of it, I think I'm safe in assuming that you're the guys from LA County. Firemen, right?"

Cap stepped forward and offered his hand. "Hank Stanley, from Station 51." Introductions were made all around.

"Okay, well, look," Doug said, as he quietly sized up the group. "We've got a 45 minute drive to the put-in on the river. What do you say we load up and head that way? I've got coffee, juice, bagels, and oranges on the bus. We can talk and eat as we go. Barry, here, is our shuttle. He's taking us to the river and will hang around long enough to help us get on our way. He'll meet us at the take-out in a couple of days. Does everyone have their gear?"

The men of Station 51 all nodded, grabbed their gear, and climbed aboard the bus. Throwing their gear into the back seats, the men sat in a group in the front, while Doug stood in the aisle between them and addressed the group.

"So, did you all enjoy our five star accommodations last night?"

"I've stayed in nicer roadside restrooms," was Chet's answer.

Before Cap could admonish Kelly, Doug broke out in laughter.

"Hey, now, there's an idea we hadn't thought of. Actually, we put folks up there because we figure they'll more likely appreciate a couple of nights outside after a night at the Wabluskasa Inn."

Johnny's snicker caught Doug's attention. "You understand Lakota?"

"Enough to know that isn't a compliment. You speak the language?"

"My wife is Lakota. She's the one who dubbed the place the "Wabluskasa." The owner heard someone use the phrase and loved it. He had a big neon sign made up. Must have cost him a bundle. It was hideous. We might have let him use it, just to teach him a lesson, but we depend on this place, and we couldn't let it go out of business. We figured that something called the 'Bedbug Inn' didn't stand much of a chance of surviving."

"That would have been a more appropriate name. But, if you know it's bad, why do you use it?" Cap inquired.

"Did you see any other options? It's the only place to stay within 50 miles of the put-in. Someday I'm gonna build a place of my own. We own the land, but it still takes money, you know? Hey, any of you guys looking for an investment opportunity?"

"On a fireman's salary?" Mike could imagine Patty's reaction to that one. "Well, I could give you twenty five bucks. How much of a share will that get me?"

"Well, combined with my savings, that will get you about 50% at the moment." Doug could feel himself beginning to connect with this group. He hoped they felt the same, but it was time to move onto business.

"Okay, so let's talk about the river, shall we? When the guy from the county called, he said that you all had experience in fast water rescues. I gotta tell you, I'm real excited about that. It's been a while since I brought out a group with experience. This is going to be great."

"He said what?" Roy was sure he must have misunderstood.

"He said you guys had fast water rescue experience." Doug did not like the looks he was getting. His eager anticipation quickly changed to anxiety. "He told me you guys do rescues on whitewater all the time. Please tell me that he wasn't lying."

Cap stepped in. "Well, he probably didn't mean to lie. He probably didn't know any better. Our territory does include part of the coast, so we are involved in water rescues. And we have to pull a person or two out of the flood control channels every spring. So we do have some training in swift water rescue, but I doubt that's what you were talking about."

"No, not exactly." Doug inwardly groaned as he pictured his entire spring's revenue flying out the window. "Okay, well we have a decision to make then. The Lazy River is considered an intermediate to advanced run in the rafting world. In the spring, right now, the river is cold and it runs high and fast. Even so, it's mostly class II and III rapids. But there are several class IV and one V. As the class rating goes up, so does the level of difficulty and the level of risk. And river is remote. Help is not exactly a stone's throw away."

Doug tried to think of a way to salvage this. "It's up to you. We can make the run. If you guys are in shape and can follow directions, we'll be okay. However, it's not the ideal river for a first run. If you'd rather, we can turn back, delay a day, and make the run on an easier river. It will take some footwork, but we can make it happen."

Johnny wasn't saying anything. He knew what he wanted to do, but he wouldn't influence the others. Roy also remained silent. In fact, no one wanted to be the one to speak, so Cap finally took the floor.

"Well, a delay is out of the question unless we shorten the trip to two days and one night. We still have to be back in LA on Friday. But we shouldn't do this if any of us has any doubts. If any one of you doesn't want to raft this river, you need to say so now, and there won't be any hard feelings."

Doug added his thoughts. "We can certainly do a two day trip on an easier river. And Hank is right. A crew should never do anything that's beyond the capacity of its least experienced paddler."

All men looked at Marco.

"What? Why are you all looking at me? It's not my decision. I'll do whatever you all want to do."

Marco knew that the men sitting around him had understood from the beginning that he didn't want to be here. But he hadn't been able to put his worries into words. Even if he could, he would never acknowledge them to his friends. How could he tell his peers that just thinking about spending three days on the water, aroused a fear that chilled him to the core?

The men were still looking at Marco. He had to say something. "Look, guys, I told you. I just don't like traveling, okay? I'm funny that way. But if I'm going to travel, it might just as well be on a river, right? You'll need to tell me what to do and how to do it, but I'm up to paddling any river you all decide. Okay?"

"It's decided then, we're running the Lazy, right?" This came from Chet.

Cap continued to watch Marco, but the man gave no further indication of a problem. He had to take him at his word.

"Okay then, all in favor or running the Lazy River, raise your hands."

The decision was unanimous. The bus continued on to the scheduled put-in.

"So, who here wants some breakfast?"

Doug's question got the immediate attention of the other six men riding the bus. A quick round of affirmative responses confirmed that the men may have postponed responding to the grumbling in their stomachs, but they certainly had not forgotten it.

Doug pulled out two large thermoses of coffee, and passed around large plastic mugs.

"Be careful with the coffee. These roads are not smooth and the shocks are shot on this thing." As if to demonstrate, the bus hit a bump and sent two of the empty mugs flying. Doug smiled and added, "Nice touch, Barry. You'll have to remember that one."

Next, Doug passed around a large bag containing bagels and another containing oranges. He then sat back and smiled, waiting for the comments to begin. He wasn't disappointed.

"Uh, Doug? Man, when did you buy these donuts? No insult intended here, but they're as hard as rocks! I'm not real sure they're even safe to eat anymore."

"Yeah, we better save these to fend off hungry bears. If they don't want to eat them, we could maybe knock them out by throwing them at their head."

"John, Chet, give Doug a break," Cap instructed. "You heard him say there weren't many amenities around here. This is probably the best he could do."

Before Doug could defend himself, Mike came to the rescue. "They're bagels, not donuts. And they look and smell very fresh. Where did you find fresh bagels in a place like this?"

This time it was Barry who answered. "My mom. She has a small kosher deli in town. She makes them fresh every morning. They've been slow to catch on, but the people who try them keep coming back."

"Sorry," Johnny apologized, "I didn't mean to insult. I've never seen one of these before, and I didn't realize you didn't have any donut shops in town."

Doug had to laugh at the thought that they would only serve bagels because donuts were not an option. "We have plenty of donut shops in town. But these are better for you. They have less processed sugar, and the carbs in these will keep you going longer than the refined sugar in donuts."

The men were momentarily silent as they ate the bagels between sips of hot coffee.

Doug knew he was pushing it, but he had to ask. "So, do you like them?"

He was answered with enthusiastic nods and "yes's" from Mike, Roy, and Cap. Marco and Johnny seemed less sure. Chet was clear on his opinion.

"No insult to Barry's mother, but I still think they'd be better used to ward off angry bears. Hey, Barry, maybe your mother should try making some that are honey dipped, or creme filled."

Hank offered his opinion on Chet's comment. "There are no bears where we're going, ya twit. And you know, Kelly, just because we're out in the wilderness, it doesn't mean we have to act like savages. We should still be polite, and telling Barry that his mother's baking should be used as ammunition against bears cannot be classified as polite. So, watch your mouth, pal."

Johnny gazed out the window as the bus rounded yet another corner. He'd been eyeing the terrain for several miles, and with a practiced eye, recognized that they were almost to their destination. Barely able to control his excitement, he glanced over at his partner, surprised to find that Roy was watching him closely.

"What?"

"Nothing. I was just wondering if you were going to be like this the whole trip."

"Like what?"

"Like a kid on Christmas morning."

With a wide grin, Johnny simply turned back to the window, watching the cliff tops disappear as the bus moved lower into the canyon.

"I can't help it, Roy. I've been dreaming about a trip like this for years, and I can't believe it's finally coming true."

Even though he couldn't see his friend's nod of agreement, Johnny knew that Roy understood. They'd talked about it several times in the week prior to leaving LA, the opportunity of such an adventure. Roy had made it clear that even though Joanne was not keen on the idea, he was excited about the trip.

"I sure wish Marco felt the same way about this whole thing."

Although Roy's voice was quiet, his concern was evident, and Johnny ventured a quick glance back towards the silent fireman.

"Well, you heard him. He's willing to give it a chance, and he'll probably decide he loves it."

"I hope you're right, Johnny."

An excited whoop sounded from the other side of the bus as Chet pointed ahead.

"There it is! Look at that, guys!"

All eyes looked ahead as the bus pulled to a stop in a small, rocky parking area where the river briefly ran level with the riverbank. The river was running swiftly, but there was no whitewater in sight. However, the beauty of the scene was not lost on the observers. The reddish cliffs on the opposite shore made a picturesque setting for the brownish-blue water that moved through the narrow canyon. Above, the morning sky had cleared and was now an amazing azure blue, with only the thinnest white clouds to accent the view.

"Oh, man, this is gonna be great!"

Chet was the first one to jump from his seat and hurry out of the bus. The rest of the men followed quickly, but it was the excited Irishman who was already peppering Doug with questions.

As Roy grabbed his bag, Johnny couldn't help but throw his partner's words back at him.

"Are you sure you weren't talking about Chet earlier?"

"Huh?"

"You know, the kid on Christmas morning. I think Cap's going to have his hands full with that big kid."

It took Doug, Barry, and the men of Station 51 almost forty-five minutes to get the raft off the bus, and the gear unloaded. In addition to the supplies the firemen brought, there were multiple bags supplied by the outfitter and three, five-gallon collapsible jugs full of water.

As Johnny looked at the quantity of supplies, he wondered just how much they would be roughing it in the next few days. He also wondered how everything was possibly going to fit on the raft with the seven, not so small, men. His questions were answered as Doug began to open some of the largest duffel bags.

"Alrighty then. Can everyone gather over here for a few minutes? This," Doug held up what looked like a large piece of black rubber, "is a Farmer John wet suit. It's neoprene, and it's not the most comfortable thing you've ever worn. It will cover your legs and torso, but leave your arms free. If you have ANY questions about whether or not you need one, go stick your hand in the river. Then, imagine your whole body suddenly being submerged. We may be in the desert, but this water was mountain snow yesterday. It's cold! Hypothermia is, by far, the biggest risk on the river this time of year. It's a shame, because critical hypothermia is usually avoidable with one of these things. So, this is not optional gear. If you're on the river, you wear a wet suit. Okay?"

Chet picked up one of the suits that now lay in a heap next to Doug. He found the zipper that ran down the front but ended just below the waistline. That was the only opening that he could find.

"Uh, Doug? What do ya do if you hafta, you know, do what a bear does in the woods?"

"Well, I suggest that you take care of all those bodily functions before you put the suit on, because after that, the only option is to take it off. Although I have a buddy who swears he just pees right in the wet suit. Says it keeps him warm!"

The groans and laughs were the response Doug had sought.

"Most folks wear the suit over a swim suit and put the other layers on top. That's what I'd recommend. As soon as we go over this stuff, you can change in the bus. Or, you can change in the brush over there. The bushes are both our changing room and the, um, facilities, for this morning."

Doug passed out the wet suits, matching each man with one that would fit. When that task was completed, he grabbed another bag and opened it up, pulling out a life vest.

"This, gentlemen, is your savior and your friend. You'll wear this one hundred percent of the time you're on, or near, the river. This is your personal flotation device, also known as a life jacket or vest."

The jackets didn't look like the ones the Johnny had seen in the past. These were not the bulky orange horseshoes that were fastened around the neck. Nor were they like the blow-up ones that the men sometimes wore in ocean rescues. These life jackets were vests that zipped up the front. Made of nylon covered foam cylinders and adjustable straps, they would fit snuggly and would add an extra layer of protection from the cold and rocks of the river, as well as keeping a man afloat. Johnny now realized how they would be fitting most of the supplies on the raft. They would be wearing them. He turned his attention back to Doug.

"The vests need to fit snuggly or they won't do any good. When you take a swim, you want it to stay in place, not float up in front of your face, so cinch it up as tightly as you can without cutting off your breathing. Fit properly, a man can be pulled out of the water by the shoulders of the vest."

Doug sorted through the vests and pulled out one that was labeled "adult medium." He threw it to Johnny.

"This one should fit you just about right. The rest of you guys, take a large and put the rest back in the bag for Barry."

"Ha! Gage gets a baby jacket! He doesn't even fit an adult jacket! I love it!"

So much for best behavior, thought Cap, as he sneered at Chet. He was about to try to nip this battle in the bud, but it was too late.

"Yeah, well it is an adult size, Kelly, just not large. Just because I can eat a few tacos without porking up like you, is no reason to be jealous, you know? I mean, there are enough other things for you to envy without focusing on my superior metabolism."

Cap decided to ignore the back and forth when Doug just grinned and continued on with his equipment instruction.

"Hey, Doug?" Mike was hesitant to ask his question in front of Marco, but thought it was something that needed to be addressed. "You keep saying 'when you end up in the water,' not 'if.' That's just a figure of speech, right?"

Johnny shook his head and grinned at Roy. "Mike, if you don't end up in the river on your own at some point, I'll personally guarantee that you swim at least once this week. Okay?"

Seeing the look on Marco's face, Cap spoke up. "No one will be throwing anyone in the water. Got that? And just because we have to be ready to be in the water, doesn't mean it's definitely going to happen, right Doug?"

Doug had seen the look on Marco's face as well. "No, Hank, nothing's definite. But I have to tell you, with three days on this river, the odds of someone going in at least once are pretty high. Look, I'll say it again. If the thought of ending up swimming a rapid is terrifying for any one of you, then this is not the river for us to be floating. Right now we can still turn around. In another thirty minutes or so we'll be on the river, and we won't have that option. Now is the time to speak up."

No one said a word.

"Okay. Well, these are the paddles. You've heard the expression 'up the creek without a paddle?' Well, you don't want to be that, so hang onto this. We do, however, carry two extras just in case one breaks or gets lost.

"This," he continued, pointing to the handle of the paddle, "is the T grip. There are more injuries caused by flying T grips on rafts than were ever caused by the river itself. We don't want anyone getting this in the eye or the mouth, right? The way to prevent that is to never let go of the T grip. I'll remind you of this throughout the trip. You remind each other as well. So if I say, 'Chet, T grip,' you know I mean hang onto it, okay?"

"Hey, why use me as an example?"

"It's in your eyes, Kelly. It's in your eyes!" Cap answered.

"You guys ready to get this show on the road?" Doug asked the group. Getting an affirmative reply from everyone, Doug nodded. "Alright then, let's make this happen. Roy and John, can you guys start attaching rope to the backpacks and dry sacs? Marco, I need your help getting some of this stuff in the raft. Mike, Hank, and Chet, you guys get your wet suits on, then we'll switch off. Okay?"

Barry came over to help with the raft, but Doug shook him off and directed him to help elsewhere. He wanted a few minutes alone with Marco. As he showed Marco how to stow the water jugs in the raft, he broached the question that needed to be asked.

"Marco, you don't want to be here, do you?"

Marco sighed. He'd known this was coming when Doug singled him out to help.

"Yeah, I do. I just don't like to travel, that's all."

"No, that's okay to tell your pals over there, but I need to know the truth. What is it that has you spooked about this trip? Do you know how to swim?"

"Yes, I know how to swim. And nothing has me spooked. I just. . .well. . .I don't know. I don't like being underwater, that's all. And, unlike Mike, somehow I know that's where I'm going to end up on this trip. But it'll be okay. It's just not the adventure I would have picked, okay?"

"Look, I won't say anything to your buddies," Doug pushed, "but I need to know what I'm dealing with here, or rather, what you're dealing with."

"No, it's just being underwater that bothers me. Heck, I don't even like to jump in a pool. I'm just never convinced that I'm going to reach the surface again. And no, I don't want to turn back. I want to do this. I'll be fine."

"You know, you could go back with Barry. I could take the blame. Tell the others I decided you couldn't go. Or I could tell them you're sick."

"You've got to be kidding! You tell two paramedics I'm sick, and you think they'll just let me get back on a bus and go back to a flea-infested motel? Besides, I don't want to go back. Really! I want to do this! I've gotten past it to do water rescues before, and I will again. This is supposed to be about teamwork. Well, I'm part of this team. And if I don't do this, it will mean something. Maybe not to them, but it will to me. So let it go. Okay?"

Doug nodded. He might be making a huge mistake, but he agreed.

Doug placed the men in the raft based on both their size and their comfort level. Roy and Johnny took the two front positions, followed by Hank then Marco on the right, and Chet then Mike on the left. The gear was stored in the middle of the boat, all securely attached to the thwarts. As they floated out onto the river, Doug began his instruction.

"Okay gentlemen, we have about a mile to go before we hit any significant water, so let's just let the river move us for a minute while we go over a few things. First, the thwarts in the center of the boat look like seats, but they're really more for stability than sitting. You're going to sit up on the side of the boat like you are now whenever we're in the water. Tuck a foot up under the thwart in front of you, both feet if you can. That will help keep you steady and in the boat when it gets tippy. If you start to feel like you're going in the water, try to lean into the center of the boat. If you find yourself actually going in, try to grab the chicken line on the edge of the boat as soon as you can. That way you stay with the boat, and we can just pull you back.

Now, if you end up in the water, the best thing to do is to try to get back to the boat immediately. Chances are, you're still right next to the raft. If you're within reach, we'll grab you or stretch out a paddle to you, but if you're beyond that, watch for the throw bag. When you see the throw bag coming at you, grab the rope, not the bag. Otherwise, the rope will just continue to unwind and you'll continue to get further away from the raft.

If you find yourself in the water, keep your feet up. I can't stress that enough. Do NOT try to stand. The most dangerous type of situation is an entrapment. You can avoid it if you keep your feet up. If you find yourself swimming a rapid, put your feet up in front of you, facing down river. Try to avoid the boulders and get yourself to the side as soon as you're out of the rapid. Keep watching for that throw rope. Okay?

We'll keep talking about this as we go on, but one more thing now. It's possible to go in the water and suddenly not know which end is up. If that happens, try not to panic. It probably seems impossible, but the best thing you can do is to relax. The jacket is going to bring you to the surface. You can count on that. One nice thing about this river is that it's possible to avoid the weirs and holes that can hold you under. We are going to avoid them. So just let your jacket do its job.

If you come up under the boat, just use your hands to follow the boat to its side. If you come up and you see the thwarts, that means the boat is upside down and we're all in the river, so follow it to the side, grab hold of the line, and look for your pals. Okay?"

"As warm as this suit is, I don't think I'd mind getting a little wet, but I sure don't want to be under this boat."

Mike's elbow in Chet's side silenced the good-natured grumbling, and Doug turned slightly to hide his smile. He could tell that this group of men got along well, an important ingredient for an enjoyable trip down the river.

The men of Station 51 had listened silently and attentively to Doug. Now that he'd completed his instructions, they spent some time practicing the strokes and using the throw ropes. Feeling more secure in their abilities, the men settled in.

"Good job, guys!" Doug said, praising his paddlers on their newly learned skills.

"Well, men, I think we're ready to move on. Is everyone ready?"

Doug looked at each man expectantly, his eyes remaining just a moment longer on Marco, but everyone was nodding in agreement.

"Alright then, all forward! Oh, and by the way, welcome to The Lazy River!"

The men concentrated on honing their new skills as the first part of their journey got underway. The water was fairly calm, giving them a chance to get familiar with the feel of the raft, and some time to get in a little practice with the paddle strokes and leans.

Everyone was enjoying the calm morning, especially Roy. It had been a busy couple of days, getting ready and saying goodbye to his family. Now that they were actually on the water, he finally felt like he could relax and start to enjoy the trip.

Still, it didn't surprise him when Chet broke the quiet with another round of twenty questions. Roy couldn't help but wonder if Kelly had been spending too much time with Gage; they both seemed to be vying for the position of most obnoxious.

"Chet! Quit swinging that paddle around. You're going to hit someone!"

Peace and quiet descended on the group again, their progress down the river slow but steady. Holding his own paddle carefully, Roy attempted to dip it in the water with the same fluid movement that Doug had demonstrated earlier, but the slapping sound below the boat confirmed his suspicions. . he wasn't doing very well.

"You'll get the hang of it."

Turning to his right, Roy watched for a moment as Johnny used his paddle with ease.

"I thought you said you'd never done this before!"

"I said I've never been on any whitewater before. Doesn't mean I haven't been in a canoe, or a kayak."

Roy simply shook his head, wondering for a moment if he'd ever really know his partner. A sudden movement behind them caught his attention, as Chet called out.

"Hey, Gage! If you're such an expert, how come you just splashed water all over our captain?"

"What? Oh, sorry, Cap."

"That's okay, John. Just don't let it happen again."

Cap's voice was tinged with humor, but Johnny's wasn't when he answered Chet.

"Besides, I didn't say I was an expert, Chet!"

"Ahh, finally . . the Pigeon admits he doesn't know what he's talking about."

"I didn't say that!"

"Oh, didn't you just say you weren't an . ."

"Kelly!"

"Yeah, Cap?"

"Watch out, you Twit! You almost hit me in the face with your T."

"Oh, sorry, Cap."

"Uh huh."

"Hey, guys! Look at that!" Johnny was pointing excitedly down the river where the water was moving faster. By shading his eyes from the sun, Roy could just make out the whitewater ahead of them. Several seats back, a thin voice was barely audible.

"We're going down that?"

"This is going to be great!" Chet hollered out, as he dipped his paddle deeper in the water.

Roy didn't waste anymore time listening to his co-workers; instead, he focused his attention on the calm voice from the rear of the boat. Using short, simple commands, Doug coolly guided them into their first set of rapids.

"Hank, T-grip! Keep those feet tucked. Paddles up…. Now, right forward. Roy, paddle up, just right side…. Right forward, left back, two strokes."

The front of the boat was now in a direct line with the steepest drop of the rapid. Even with his back to the others, Roy could feel the tension as the boat moved into the fast water.

"Okay, here's your initiation!" Doug shouted. "All forward, hard!"

The raft arched and dipped as it moved quickly through the rapids, water splashing up over the men as shouts of apprehension and excitement blended together. Doug continued to shout instructions, which the men followed without difficulty. The ride was thrilling but short, and it seemed only a moment had passed before the boat was gliding slowly down the river again.

Wiping the water from his face, Roy didn't even try to hide his huge smile. He was hooked, and it wasn't necessary to look at his partner to know Johnny felt the same way. His partner's excitement was contagious.

"Alright! That was fantastic! And that's only a Class II, huh? Can't wait to get to the bigger stuff! Cap, we've gotta thank the chief for putting us up for this; we must be the luckiest station in LA county."

No one even bothered to interrupt Johnny's enthusiastic rambling. He was on a roll, and no one would be able to stop him anyway. Not even Chet's snicker from the middle of the boat dissuaded the excited paramedic. Dipping his paddle back into the water, Roy realized that Johnny was right. This was a pretty fantastic opportunity, and maybe they were the luckiest guys in LA. He just didn't think he needed to tell Joanne that.

The friendly banter continued as the raft drifted slowly downstream. From his position in the back of the boat, Doug listened with amusement as the firemen from LA County traded their harmless barbs. He wasn't bothered by the exchanges, in fact, he found himself to be somewhat relieved by their camaraderie. Years of experience working with people told him that this group was close. Their working relationship tinged with honest friendship that would serve them well, not only on this trip, but also in their work back home.

Doug had to admit, the first half-hour on the water had left him wondering if the three-day trip would be filled with tension. With one nervous man on board, and two others spending most of their time engaged in a battle of wills, the guide was sure he had his work cut out for him. But when the raft moved into the first series of rapids, the crew's working relationship shone through. Immediately, the men seemed to shift into an effective team, their focus on each other, as well as the job at hand.

Certainly, it was obvious that none of them were experienced with the paddles they held, but they followed his instructions and worked carefully to guide the craft where he commanded. When they finally reached calmer waters, Doug was surprised at their whoops of delight, joining in with one of his own.

His attention drawn back towards the front of the boat, Doug hid a smile as he recognized Gage's voice tinged with frustration. They were at it again.

"It has nothing to do with what we ate, Chet."

"Sure it does, how's anyone supposed to get by on one of those bagel things?"

"Because they're good for you. Mike said so. You're just hungry 'cause we're outdoors and working hard."

"Hey, we always work hard. And why would those things be any better for ya? It's just a round piece of fried dough."

"They're baked and they are good for you, Chet. My grandmother used to give them to us when we visited her in New York. A bakery down the street made them fresh every morning, and she used to say we'd get further on one bagel than half a dozen donuts." Mike offered.

Doug wondered why there was sudden quiet in the raft, as most of the men turned to look at the engineer. But it was only a moment before the chatter returned.

"Geez, Mike, where'd that come from? You haven't said that much since we left home."

"Oh, Chet, leave him alone. You're just mad 'cause he knows more than you do, as usual."

"Shut up, Gage."

"Kelly!"

"Yeah, Cap?"

"Why don't we all shut up for a few minutes? I think you're giving Doug a headache . . I know you're giving me one."

"Okay, Cap. But I was just trying to figure out why I'm so hungry and Gage isn't. He's usually the one who cleans out the refrigerator by mid-morning. And here we are, out in the middle of nowhere, and he's not even hungry."

"I didn't say I wasn't hungry. 'Course I am. But I'm not going to sit here and complain about it." Johnny defended himself.

"Well, that's a switch."

Hank's defeated shrug was not lost on Doug, who had secretly been enjoying the show. If forced, he'd have to float his stick with Chet anyway . . . it had been a busy morning, and that bagel sure hadn't filled him up like he'd hoped. Glancing at his watch, the guide saw that it was only 10 AM. Too early to stop for lunch, but a good time to pull into an eddy and pass around some energy food.

"Anyone ready for a snack?"

"Yeah."

"Sure, Doug, sounds good."

"Great, I'm starved!"

"Okay then, right forward, left back, hard."

And with that the men found themselves in surprisingly calm water near the river's edge.

After the fare served for breakfast, Chet did not have high expectations for the snack. He was therefore amazed, and pleased, to find that the morning snack consisted of an apple and a Snickers bar along with Tang to mix in their water bottles.

As the men ate, Doug queried about the first part of the morning.

"So, how do you all feel now that you've so skillfully mastered 'Mother's Milk' rapid?"

"What a rush!" Roy was still smiling. "I've certainly felt the power of natural forces before, including getting slammed up against rocks in the surf, but this was different. This time it wasn't a matter of fighting against the power of nature, but working with it. I've never felt anything like it before."

"You know," Mike admitted, "just as we were going into that drop, I made a mistake and did a back stroke. Or I should say I tried to paddle back, but I couldn't. The river just was not going to let me do it."

"I don't think I realized just how cold this water was until the first wave came into the boat and soaked me." Cap was grinning and looking relaxed for the first time since this trip had been announced. "It was like being suddenly hit with the water from the hose after running out of a fire."

Chet finished his drink and refastened the pint size bottle to his vest. "Hey, Doug! How come they call it 'Mother's Milk' rapids? Is it because the water is so white it looks like milk?"

"Well, no, not exactly."

"So, why then?"

"Because after you've been through the next three rapids, you'll remember this one and think, 'oh, man, that one was mother's milk compared to the next ones.'"

Marco almost didn't want to ask the next question. "What are the next three rapids called?"

"Um, well, the one after the next one is called 'Bouncing Baby Buggy' because it's choppy, but without many rocks near the surface in the spring, so it's pretty safe. It's considered class III. After that, it's on to the 'Bow Wow Boogie'."

"Don't tell me," Marco said, "a pack of wild dogs hang out there, right?"

"Good guess, but no. A few years ago someone tried to run this river in a canoe. It split on those rapids and the bow got jammed sticking straight up. We've never been able to get it out without risking someone's safety. It's easy to avoid, so we left it there. It's now called the 'Bow Wow Boogie' because of how many people see the broken bow and say 'wow' and then ride down the rapid sideways because they stop paying attention to the water. It's also class III."

If the other's missed it, Chet did not. "Hey, Doug. You said the rapid AFTER the next one is the baby something. What's the next rapid called?"

"It's called the Tazmanian Tirade, Chet. It's one of four class IV rapids we'll experience on this run. We're going to hit it just about two miles down the river. The rapid itself is about a half mile long, so after we go through the first few drops, don't make the mistake of letting up. Keep listening and paddling until we get to the other side. Mostly it's class IV because it's so long, but it has one good-sized drop. If we stay focused, we'll be fine. So what do you say, are we ready to move on?"

As all the men, including Marco, nodded, Doug noticed that they each gripped their paddles a little tighter.

The fact that Johnny had said nothing during their short break was not lost on his partner. The look of pleasure on his face, however, kept Roy from being worried. As they moved on down the river, Chet made a few attempts to draw Gage back into a battle of barbs. Johnny simply ignored him.

At the first opportunity, Roy leaned over and said quietly, "Not bad, huh?"

Johnny's slight grin turned into a smile that encompassed his whole face. "It's incredible! Just look at the terrain! Can you imagine how many years it took this river to carve through the rock and create this canyon? And the water . . .well, I can't imagine a better way to spend a spring day, can you?"

"Nope, this is pretty near heaven, pal." Roy sat back up and left his friend to enjoy the surroundings in silence.

"Okay, gentlemen, is everyone ready?"

The men of Station 51 had spent the past thirty minutes getting mentally prepared, and practicing the skills they would need when they finally reached the Tazmanian Tirade. They had also reviewed, again, what to do if someone ended up in the water. With mixed levels of confidence, they all nodded.

"Okay then, here it is. Let's go. Left up, hard right!"

And they were in the rapid.

The first wave that washed over them made Johnny gasp in shock from the sudden cold. Blinking the water out of his eyes, he stayed focused on Doug's commands and on the water around him. He was aware of an odd sense of pride as the raft moved deftly through the natural obstacle course, missing underwater rocks by just inches as the team, his team, quickly and effectively followed instructions. Laughs, shouts and whoops of excitement joined with the sounds of the rushing water, eliminating any sense of peace or serenity that remained in his mind. It, in no way, diminished the wonder of this experience. Quiet is good for a walk through the woods, but you should roar with the water when you shoot a rapid. With that thought Johnny let out a howl of exuberance.

Before the sound had finished leaving his lips, Johnny heard Doug yell, "Lean in, and hang on!" In one fluid motion, Johnny moved his right hand from the paddle to the chicken line and leaned far into the middle of the raft. Only mere chance kept him from butting heads with Roy who did the same. Just as the two men made eye contact, Johnny felt the reason for Doug's sudden command. A rock, not quite avoided, was suddenly under the raft, forcing the craft to almost leap into the air, and bouncing the men from their positions.

Johnny saw the expression in Roy's eyes change from one of exhilaration to one of concern at the same time that he heard Marco yell, "Cap!" Jamming his foot hard under the front tube, he felt Roy grab hold of his leg. Johnny released his hold on the rope and lunged for his captain, who was now more outside the boat than in. He moaned as he closed his hand and came up with nothing but air. Looking again, he expected to see an empty spot where Cap had been sitting. Instead he saw Marco with a firm hold on Cap's arm, struggling to keep himself in the raft while he held onto the man in front of him.

Johnny tried to twist to an angle that would allow him to help, as Chet reached across and grabbed Cap's leg, and Mike took hold of Marco to provide more support. Doug's shouts drew his attention away from his captain and back to the river.

"Johnny! Roy! Paddle forward, hard! The other guys have Hank. We still need to get through this thing!"

Johnny managed to somehow get back into position. He plunged his paddle deep into the river and pulled back with all the force he could muster, aware that it was now just the two of them providing the thrust, as Doug pointed the boat in the right direction. Another wave, caught at just the right angle, threw gallons of ice-cold water in his face. Sputtering and coughing as he tried to blink the water from his eyes, Johnny glanced at Roy and noticed that he, too, was fighting the impact of the waves.

Roy stole a glance backward as he paddled with all his strength. Everyone was still in the boat. He allowed himself to acknowledge that, despite the near miss, he was continuing to experience a rush like nothing else he had ever felt. The adrenaline-fed elation that he was feeling was overtaking any fear or trepidation that had lingered. But it wasn't strong enough to prevent a swell of anxiety when he suddenly saw the river disappear directly on the path that they appeared to be taking.

"Uh, Doug, up ahead!" He hollered to be heard over the roar of the river.

"It's okay!" Doug shouted back. "It's only a four foot drop, and it's safer than navigating the rock bed toward the right bank! Remember, when I say 'Center' grab your paddle and the chicken line, and get to the floor in the center of the boat! Make sure to brace your feet! Then hang on and enjoy the ride!"

Roy nodded and saw Johnny do the same. He pulled his paddle into the boat and prepared for the maneuver.

"Not yet!" Doug called out. "Keep paddling till I call it. We need to hit this dead on!"

Roy immediately put his paddle back in the water and dug in hard, the tension mounting as the drop drew nearer. Three more strokes and Doug made the call.

"Okay, everyone! Center now, and hang on tight!"

Roy pulled in his paddle, grabbed the line, and plopped himself onto the floor in front of the first thwart, forcing his two feet between the floor and the front tube. He looked briefly at Johnny, who was sitting across from him, then forced himself look forward and not close his eyes.

For a brief moment, Roy was acutely aware that there was no water, only air, under the front of the raft. But as he and Johnny passed over the top of the drop, the raft quickly bent like a slinky, once again joining the river. Thrown back against the front thwart, Roy realized that he was suddenly almost vertical. He clung to the rope and hoped that the others were doing the same. As the river leveled out, so did the raft, but not before driving the front end into the river at the base of the small waterfall. The wave created by this maneuver threw a wall of water over the two front paddlers, at the same time submerging them almost waist deep. Instinct took over and Roy reached out to grab hold of his partner, latching onto the man's shoulder at the same time that Johnny took hold of his arm. Then, just as suddenly as it had begun, the raft was once again parallel with the river and right with the world.

With that, they were out of the rapid. The group quickly maneuvered into a large eddy to regroup. The first thing the men noticed was the water, not in the river, but in the raft. Every man and every item was soaking wet, and there was four inches of water covering the floor of the raft.

Marco's first thought was that they had sprung a leak. Before he could give voice to his concerns, he realized they were unwarranted. The water in the boat could be easily explained. He only had to look at his friends to see how much water had come over the sides.

Looking at the items in the raft, Marco noted that they were still securely attached, but all were either sitting in, or floating on, the significant pool of water. As he looked at the backpacks, he hoped that everyone had followed the instructions to double wrap everything in plastic trash bags before putting it in the pack. He also shivered at the thought of what Chet's sleeping bag would feel like tonight if Roy hadn't pushed him to accept Johnny's dry bag.

Looking back up river, Marco watched as the waves crashed around some boulders and dropped smoothly over others. He was almost seized by panic as he thought about where they had just been, and what they had just done. That panic was quickly replaced by pride in what he had accomplished, and the fears he had overcome. He not only managed to not be a hindrance, he had helped keep Cap in the boat. And he'd done it without giving a moment's thought to what it meant to let go of the rope, and his paddle.

Let go of the paddle! Marco suddenly realized what he had done. His paddle was still in the water when he let go of it to grab Cap. Oh man! I don't believe this! I lost my paddle! So much for getting the hang of this stuff.

"Uh, Doug?" Marco was not sure how the man was going to react to this news. "Doug, I have a problem. I think I lost my paddle."

He heard groans from the men around him as he looked up, expecting to see an angry look on the guide's face. Instead, Doug was smiling.

"Well, you may have lost it, but I found it." Reaching down in front of him, he retrieved the paddle and handed it back to Marco.

Marco sighed in relief. "Thanks. I thought I dropped it in the river."

"You did."

"But…"

"Do you mean to tell us," Roy asked, "that in the midst of all that confusion you managed to not only keep us on track, but also reached down and pulled a stray paddle from the water?"

Marco laughed. "He's my new super-hero. We should get him a cape."

"Yeah, well, speaking of heroes, you do realize that you kept me from taking a swim, right?" Cap asked of the man sitting behind him.

"I thought for sure you were going in," Johnny added. "I grabbed for ya, but came up empty. Great job, Marco!"

"Well, Chet grabbed on too," Marco added modestly.

"Wouldn't have done any good if you hadn't already grabbed hold. By the time I got to him, I'd have been lucky to grab a foot."

Doug was enjoying the scene playing out before him. "Truthfully, guys, the credit goes to all of you. You all acted on instinct and you each did what you needed to do. I'd like to officially announce that I no longer have any doubts about this trip. We're going to have a great time, and you're all going to fly through it!

"Now, in case you thought this was all fun and games, I'm sure you all noticed the three pumps clipped to the side of the raft? Well, they aren't there for decoration. Men, it's time to get the water out of this raft, so get to work."

It took the crew 20 minutes to bail out the raft. After assuring that the equipment and supplies were all securely attached, the men again set off down the river.

Quiet settled over the raft as the men on board enjoyed their peaceful surroundings. The blue sky was unmarred by even the slightest trace of clouds. The terrain was changing again. No longer the steep walls of a narrow canyon, the sides of the river now sloped gently away, allowing room for some plant growth and trees, waterfowl, and an occasional small mammal that even Doug could not identify.

The current carried the raft swiftly but smoothly downstream, freeing the crew from the need to paddle beyond an occasional stroke.

"Hey, Cap," Chet broke the silence, swinging his paddle freely as he turned to face Stanley. "Better hang on. I see a wave coming up."

"Yeah, well, you better start hanging on to that paddle before you take someone's eye out," Cap shot back.

Unwilling to let himself become the target of the conversation, Chet tried again.

"No, really, Cap. I don't want to be the one who has to explain to the chief that we lost you in the baby rapid."

"We're not losing anyone in any rapid. Besides, if I died, what makes you think you'd be the one to tell the chief? That honor would go to Mike here. After all, he is second in command."

"Oh yeah, I can hear that conversation," Roy said, from the front of the raft, "Um, chief… um, when you get a minute… no, I don't want to interrupt… um, about Captain Stanley. . ."

"That's not what I would say," Mike defended himself.

"Oh yeah, what would you say?" Marco wanted to know.

"It's easy. I'd say, 'Chief, you know how you never really liked Hank? Well, I've got something to tell you.'"

Cap couldn't be heard over the noisy laughter of his crew. Instead, he turned back to Doug and shrugged his shoulders apologetically. "I don't know what gets into these guys sometimes."

Doug flashed a broad grin before his expression turned serious.

"Okay, guys, here we go. All forward, hard."

Six paddles dipped into the water in near unison, and the men holding them pulled hard, as Doug used his guide paddle to rudder the craft into the two-foot waves in front of them. Although the waves were created by the steep grade of the river rather than an outcropping of rocks, as the raft bounced and rollercoastered from one wave to the next, the men understood why this was a class III rapid, and how it got it's name.

As waves crashed over the bow, drenching Roy and Johnny with the frigid water, Chet turned back toward Doug and announced, "You know, I don't think I'm ever going to be a good enough paddler to sit in the front."

Before Cap had the chance to tell Chet to turn around and pay attention, the raft bounced again. With his foot free from under the thwart, and his paddle in contact with nothing but air, Chet had no way to brace. Already off balance, he couldn't recover from the hit and landed unceremoniously in the river.

By the time he resurfaced, the raft was already out of reach and Doug was shouting commands.

"Hard back! Now! Chet's in the water, let's slow this boat down."

The men put all of their strength into slowing the forward motion of the boat, and Doug fought to keep the craft under control. Mike unhooked the throw sack and shifted his position to face upstream. Despite the paddlers' best efforts, the distance between Chet and the raft was increasing with every moment. Mike knelt on the floor of the raft, allowing him to lock his feet under the thwart for balance.

Confident in his ability to get the rope to his friend, Mike called out, "Heads up, Chet!"

Grabbing the orange nylon sack with the rope coiled neatly inside, Mike took aim and threw, the sack careening through the air, as a length of rope uncoiled behind it. With a thwack, the rope filled bag slapped against the water in front of Chet.

Struggling to stay face up and keep his legs in front of him as the water pulled him swiftly downstream, Chet grabbed hold of the sack, only to see the line of rope play out ahead of him.

From the raft he heard several voices calling out in unison.

"Grab the rope! Kelly, get the rope, not the bag!"

Chet grabbed blindly, as the waves continuously slammed into his face, impeding his ability to see the rope that he knew was in front of him. His hand found it on the third try. Wrapping it several times around his hand and wrist, he assured himself that the rope was secure before letting go of the bag. Using his free hand to give a thumbs-up sign, he held on and allowed himself to be pulled back to the side of the raft.



Cap, Marco, Roy, and Johnny continued to back paddle, fighting to keep the raft from losing ground while Doug supervised the operation, skillfully holding the craft in place as much as possible. Mike kept calling out to his friend as he swiftly drew the line in, and pulled a sputtering Chet up next to the raft.

"Can you get him?" Doug asked.

"Yeah, I'm set."

One hand still holding the rope, Mike reached out with the other hand and grabbed hold of the shoulder strap of Chet's life jacket. Only then did Mike release the lifeline to reach out and grab the other strap.

"I've got ya, Chet. You can let go of the rope."

Securing his feet under the side tube of the raft, Mike stood and with a mighty heave, pulled up and back, drawing Chet out of the water and over the side. The momentum was enough to land Chet face down on the floor of the raft, directly on top of his rescuer.

Looking up, Chet realized that the hard object that had stopped his forward motion was Marco's knee.

"Uh, Chet?" The voice came from beneath the still sputtering man. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I think so." Chet coughed some of the swallowed water out of his throat.

"Uh, Chet?" the voice repeated. "If you're okay, do you think you could get off me? Maybe sometime soon?"

"Hold on just one second, Mike," Doug instructed.

Emerging from the lower end of the rapid, Doug breathed a sigh of relief and instructed the men to stop paddling. He quickly and easily maneuvered the raft into an eddy at the river's edge and pulled in close enough to the bank to grab hold of a tree that was partly in the water. Using the branch to provide added stability, he told the men they were free to move around some, but reminded them to keep their weight low.

Tucking his paddle inside the edge of the raft, Hank turned around.

"Come on, Chet, let's get you up and make sure you're alright."

Mike groaned appreciatively as the weight was finally moved off of him, and he gladly accepted Marco's assistance at righting himself.

"Thanks… Cap," Chet managed before folding his arms around his chest. Shivering violently, he huddled down on the thwart as the others moved around him.

"Hey, pal. I think you can let go of that rope now," Cap encouraged.

Watching Chet shiver, Roy turned to Doug.

"Any chance we can get him off the river for a few minutes and warm him up?"

Doug nodded and declared out loud, "We're stopping here for lunch. Marco, can you help me tie this baby off."

The rest of the men quickly but carefully moved from the raft to the riverbank. Grabbing one of the dry sacs, Mike followed as Roy and Johnny led Chet away from the river. The man was already grumbling as the two paramedics sat him down on a log and Roy reached for his wrist.

"I'm alright, guys," he insisted.

"Sure you are, Chet, but I think it would be a good idea if we checked you out anyway."

If he hadn't been shivering so badly, Chet may have argued with Roy, but the longer he had been out of the water, the colder he felt. Even the neoprene wet suit was beginning to feel like a soggy cold blanket sealed around him. Suddenly, Chet found that he appreciated his friends' help.

Johnny unfastened the clasps on Chet's life vest and pulled it off, then helped him take off his jacket. As Mike reached them, he pulled a blanket from the dry sac and held it out for Johnny.

"Thanks, Mike. Wrap it around him, would ya?"

Turning back to Chet, Johnny asked, "Did you hit anything in there? Any bumps or bruises we can't see?"

Chet's shivering was beginning to lessen as the warm air and sun worked with the blanket to restore his body temperature closer to normal.

"No. I never even felt a rock. I just swallowed about 100 gallons of that river, is all. Boy, is that water cold! Kind of a rush though, you know? Not that I want to do it again, mind you, but let's just say it will be something to tell the chicks about."

Roy grinned and shook his head. "Chet, you're gonna be just fine. You keep thinking about those 'chicks' and that will get your blood all hot and bothered in no time. Now, get up and walk around. Do some knee bends and toe touches. You need to get that hot blood flowing to all your extremities, not just the one."

"Very funny, Roy. I bet you don't talk that way around your wife."

"You'd be surprised," Johnny said as he grabbed Chet's arm and helped him stand. "But he's being serious about the walking, Chet. Moving around is the best way for you to get warm again."

As soon as he'd secured the raft, Doug collected the necessary items for lunch, and hurried up the bank. He watched the men working around Chet. Noting the man was still shivering, he decided to break from his planned routine.

"Marco, how about gathering some wood? I think we'll take a few extra minutes here and get a fire going. It looks like Chet could use something warm to drink."

A short time later, a small campfire was burning brightly with Chet huddled near it. With a blanket draped around his shoulders, he sipped from a cup of hot chocolate while eating a cold sandwich. Given that the air temperature was over 70, the rest of the men kept some distance from the fire, but stayed close enough to keep Chet in the conversation while all enjoyed a brief reprieve from their work on the river.

Moving closer to Chet, Hank studied him closely. "You okay there, pal?"

"Yeah, Cap, I'm fine."

"Good. That's good. I was just wondering… what was that you were warning me about earlier? Something about watching out for a wave up ahead?"

As the men repacked the raft after lunch, Marco managed to get Chet off to the side.

"You really okay, amigo?"

"Yeah, Marco. Really. You know, once I got over the instant brain freeze from the cold, it was okay."

"You took in a lot of water. I saw you go under. And I saw the waves keep hitting you in the face. Man, I think I would have panicked. I'm not sure I could have found that rope and grabbed on. Hell, I'm not sure I even would have ever come back to the surface in the first place."

"You would have been fine. Just like I was. I didn't want to end up in that river any more than you do, but the life vest did exactly what it was supposed to do, and it brought me right back up and made it easy to stay there. It took a few minutes, but once I got used to breathing deep in between the waves, I stopped swallowing water. Honestly, Marco. You'd have been fine. If you go in, just don't panic and you'll be fine."

"Yeah, I know you're right, but I sure hope I don't get to prove that theory."

A hand clasped Chet's shoulder, and he turned to see Doug standing beside him.

"Well, guys, you think you're ready to try it again?"

"Sure!" Chet answered enthusiastically.

"Yeah, let's do it." Marco added.

Chet discarded his blanket and pulled on the damp splash jacket and life vest. Johnny hurried to put out the campfire and wet down the ashes, while Marco and Roy gathered up the remnants of their lunch supplies. At the edge of the river, Hank was helping Doug reload the few items they'd used during their stopover, and within minutes, the men were taking their positions in the raft.

As they pushed away from the shoreline, Doug moved back into his role as guide.

"We'll get into the next set of rapids just around the bend."

"Bow Wow Boogie, right?" asked Marco.

"That's right, and it's a Class III."

Several glances confirmed what Doug had already suspected. The men were hesitant now; with one man having gone overboard, their confidence had suffered a bit.

"Now, remember, you've already made it safely through a Class IV, so you shouldn't have any problem with this one. The important thing to remember is that you have to keep your mind on the river. Take a look at the wreckage there, but don't lose your focus. The river is going to be moving fast and there's one significant drop, so keep a firm grip on your paddle, and listen for my commands.

"Okay."

"Got it."

"We're ready, Doug."

The men didn't see Doug's grin, but they could hear it in his voice.

"Alright then, hard forward."

The waves crashed around and over the raft as it bounced its way through the rocky passage, but everyone managed to keep their seat. About halfway through the rapids, they noticed a few large boulders in the middle of the river. Just as promised, the bow of a boat was wedged there, its nose pointing skyward, and its hull shattered by the incessant pounding of the fast water. But the rafters were too busy to dwell on the fate of that boat.

Suddenly, the front of the raft was in mid-air as the river dropped off below them, but almost immediately a wave of water washed over them as the rubber bottom made contact once more with the river's surface.

With Doug calling out commands behind them, they paddled furiously, first forward, then back . . left side or right. A kind of time warp existed, a situation where it seemed like forever as they bounced their way through, yet seemed like seconds before they were out of the worst part. As they emerged from the rough water, excited shouts erupted from the raft.

"Alright!"

"We made it!"

"Man, that was fantastic!"

"Too much!"

"Way to go."

"What a rush!"

Doug waited until the excited voices calmed a little, and then he added his own.

"Good work, guys! Excellent job. Now we'll have a little calm spell, some easy water, but you'll have to work harder. It's going to take some paddling, so if you're ready, all forward."

The men worked together, paddles dipping in unison as the raft moved down river. After a while, the familiar chatter gave way to silence as they enjoyed the changing scenery, the wildlife, but primarily, the simple pleasure of being on the river. Doug pointed out an occasional landmark, but for the most part, the next hour was a combination of silent teamwork and appreciation for their surroundings.

It was Roy who finally ended the silence.

"Joanne sure would love this."

"Yeah, Patty would too." Mike added. "What about Grace?"

Hank nodded in agreement. "She'd love the quiet, and the view."

Johnny turned to Chet, who was already looking back at Marco, and the three bachelors found themselves exchanging looks of surprise. It was Johnny who voiced their astonishment.

"What do you mean they'd like it here? I thought all the wives were against this trip. Heck, Roy, there for a while, I wasn't sure you'd even get to come along. Now you're telling us that Joanne would love it here? "

"Well . . yeah, parts of it. The scenery, the serenity . ."

"Uh huh . . maybe if we could get Scotty to beam her over here." Chet offered.

"Good one, Chet." Johnny laughed. "We could just transport the wives over the rapids and dump 'em here in the middle of the raft."

"Hey, you should've tried that, Kelly, right before you fell in, you could have hollered, 'Beam me up, Scotty!' It would have saved us all a lot of time and energy." Hank suggested.

It took several minutes for the laughter to die down, but eventually Hank continued.

"You're probably right, though. Grace wouldn't like that rough water. She'd enjoy this part, but I can't see her wearing all this gear, managing the rapids, or camping out. Guess I'll just have to tell her about it."

"I think Patty would like it." Mike offered.

"You mean, the whole experience?" Marco asked.

"Yeah. If I could get her to try it, I'm pretty sure she'd be hooked. She's always been a pretty good sport, and she likes the water."

Johnny couldn't hide his look of surprise. "Hey, that's cool, Mike. That's the kind of woman I want to find, someone who'd enjoy doing the stuff I like."

"Right, Gage, just keep wishin'. 'Cause you know there's not a chick out there that would like all the weird things you do."

"Oh, shut up, Chet."

Another round of laughter followed, but when quiet descended upon them, Roy finally agreed with Hank.

"Joanne would like the view, but I guess not the rest of it. Guess this won't be a sport I'll be taking up."

"Sure you can, Roy. Don't forget the kids are getting older; Chris and Jennifer would love this, and there's a lot of rivers that are easier than this one. You should take them out next summer, it'd be a blast!"

"Uh huh . . and of course, their Uncle Johnny would have to come along." Roy grinned.

"Well . . uh . .if you wanted me to, yeah sure . . I'd go along."

"I'm just not sure Joanne would go for it. Especially after all the arguments she raised on this trip."

"Hey, it'll be fine. You'll come home unscathed, and she'll be won over. Just you wait and see. By the time we get done talking to her, she'll probably want to go along."

"I'll believe that when I see it."

Chet had been following the conversation, but could no longer hold back.

"Hey, Gage, there's a chick who'd like the things you do. Jennifer would go anywhere her Uncle Johnny goes."

"Chet! Didn't I tell you to shut up?"


                                      


The afternoon sun was changing subtly. The warmth from its rays was now periodically interrupted as an outcropping of trees, high on the hillside, blocked the sun from view. Doug knew that while they were still several hours away from sunset, they were approaching the time of day when they'd be without benefit of the added warmth of the direct sun. That meant that it would be that much more difficult to recover from a fall into the frigid water. It also meant that wet clothing would not dry out. Looking at his watch, he also realized that despite the extra time taken at lunch, they were about thirty minutes ahead of schedule. Barring any difficulties on the last rapid of the day, they would reach their planned camp in plenty of time to set up and eat, well before sunset.

But, there was still the last rapid of the day to contend with. It was a class IV. The men had handled the previous class IV with respectable skill, and except for the near miss with Hank, and Marco having dropped his paddle, they had passed through like seasoned paddlers. Of course, that had been at 11 AM this morning. The men were now far more comfortable with the raft and their paddles. They were also far more tired. Though not worried, exactly, Doug hoped that they'd traverse the last rapid without incident. It would make for a much more comfortable first night on the river.

Johnny had fallen into a comfortable rhythm with his paddling as the afternoon had worn on. Though not intentional, he realized that he and Roy were paddling in sync, even to the point of stopping at the same time to take a brief rest. The constant, easy paddling was far different from the focused efforts that had been necessary to pass through the rapids. In some ways, it was harder on the muscles. For one thing, there was no rush of adrenaline to aid in the effort. There was also no break, though Doug had been quick to point out that they could each feel free to take breaks when needed. The river, though flat, had been pushing them forward at a slow but steady pace. As long as only one paddler on a side of the raft took a break at the same time, it did not impact on the path of the raft.

Pulling his paddle out of the water for a moment, Johnny took a deep breath, trying to identify some of the fresh smells that filled the air. He wasn't sure what they were, but he knew what they were not. They were not car exhaust, or chemicals burning, or the antiseptic smells of the hospital, and that made them good. Doug interrupted his thoughts.

"Hey guys, I think we should talk about what's coming up on the river, okay? Let's stop paddling and let the river do the work for a minute."

The men pulled their paddles into the raft, and turned their attention toward their guide.

"First of all," Doug began, "is everyone still having fun?"

"Are you kidding?" Johnny asked. "I don't think I'll ever forget this day. I mean, I can only speak for myself, but, yeah, I'm having a blast. Of course, I have a few back and shoulder muscles that may not agree with my assessment by morning, but it's about time they joined in the work."

Marco jumped in. "Hey, even I'm liking this, and I figure if I'm happy, everyone else must be, right?"

The others voiced their agreement.

"Okay then," Doug continued. "In about ten or fifteen minutes, if we just float, we'll come up on the last rapid of the day. It's a class IV rapid called Twins. It's a little different from the one we passed through this morning. That one was class IV mostly because of the length and the single drop. Twins is class IV because there is some complicated maneuvering involved."

Johnny had known that they still had their most complicated paddling in front of them. But with the lull of the afternoon, he had somehow begun to believe that the day would end on this calm note. He had thought that he was regretting that fact. Now he realized he had been looking forward to it. As he listened to Doug explain what to expect next, Johnny forced his mind to shift gears and get psyched up for the challenge still in front of them.

"It's still a ways away, but if you listen, you can hear the water. I'm going to try to explain what the river does. We can make it through this if we stay focused. If I thought it was going to be a problem, we could portage around it, but you guys are doing great, and I don't think that's necessary."

"What does it mean to portage?" Mike asked.

"Portage means to pull everyone out of the raft and walk on the river bank around the rapid. If you do that, there are two options. You can use ropes to guide the raft through the rapid, or you can haul the raft out as well. I have to be honest with you guys. With some groups, I've decided to portage this section of the river, especially where it's at the end of the day, and folks are getting tired. But I don't think we need to do that with you all. I think you can handle it. There is another choice of course, and that is to let one or two people portage while the rest run the rapid. Tell you what, why don't you let me tell you about it, then we can decide."

Johnny couldn't imagine deciding to get out and walk around a rapid that Doug thought they were capable of running, especially one that was only a class IV. After all, Doug had said there was also a class V rapid on this river. But he also recognized that not everyone might agree with him, so he remained quiet and listened.

"Up ahead, a few things happen to the river." Doug was speaking loudly now to make sure everyone heard all he had to say. "First, the river narrows some, which makes it a little faster. Then the river makes a sharp turn to the left. When that happens, the current is going to want to push us into the right bank. There are some low hanging trees there so that's one reason we need to stay away from the outer elbow of the turn. But we can't hug the left bank either because of the rocks, so we have to try to stay pretty near the middle of the river. Immediately after the turn, we're going to see the twins.

"The twins are two large boulders on either side of the river. The first boulder is on the left, so we need to be a little to the right. However, a few feet after that, the other twin is on the right so we have to turn quickly back toward the left. There is room to maneuver, but only just, so we have to be pretty precise. If we bump against one of the boulders it's not a big deal. Problem is that the second boulder is shaped in such a way that the raft could actually ride up its side for a bit. If that happens, we could tip the whole raft over, so we want to make sure we do this right.

"After the twins, we should be pretty good. A little more fast water, then the river widens and we'll see our campsite on the east, or right, bank. So we'll get a little more sun shine, and with any luck we'll get to watch a pretty sun set."

Johnny could picture the river as Doug had described it. He understood Doug's concern, but hoped that the men would decide to run it rather than portage. It would be a shame to miss such a thrill. He listened as Cap posed the question that needed to be answered.

"Well, guys, what do you think. Anyone want to portage this?"

The answer was a unanimous "NO!"

"Alright then," Doug said. "We're going to see it in just another minute. Get ready for it. Listen closely because we're going to spend a lot of time with one side paddle forward while the other paddles back. Okay?"

Johnny nodded with the others and looked over at Roy. Roy reached up and brushed his wet hair out of his eyes one last time. Perhaps sensing that his partner was watching him, he looked over.

"You ready for this, Junior?"

"Heck, I've jumped off buildings with nothing to hold me but a little rope. Who am I to be upset by a little bit of water? What about you? You ready, Pally?"

"Ready as I'll ever be."

"Okay, all forward!" came the command from the back of the raft.

Johnny watched as the river played out exactly as Doug had described. With less space between the banks, the water moved faster as it approached its sharp turn. Johnny felt the adrenaline surge. The aches in his muscles disappeared with the introduction of the endorphins. He paddled forward and briefly wondered if Doug had somehow forgotten to change the command. The riverbank and the low trees seemed to be approaching very quickly.

"Right forward, left back HARD!"

Despite the forward thrust of the river, the paddlers forced the raft to turn hard to the left. Johnny ducked to avoid being hit by the trees, although it was probably unnecessary. No sooner had they successfully negotiated the turn, than Johnny saw the twins in the river ahead. Before he could process the fact that they were headed directly for the first rock, he heard Doug shout out his next command.

"Left forward, right back! Now! Right, pull hard!"

Johnny could hear the tension in Doug's voice, something that had not been present before, even when Chet had fallen into the river. He did not take the time to wonder whether or not that meant they were in trouble. He simply dug in and paddled back with all his strength. He felt the bump as the raft nudged up against the first twin, but the raft continued unimpeded on its course.

"Right forward, left back! Come on, left. Pull hard!"

The raft turned quickly, and completely missed the second twin. Johnny relaxed but Doug did not. Although they seemed to be doing well, the tension was still heavy in Doug's voice, and this time Johnny thought he heard a tinge of fear. He assumed he was just imagining it, since all was going without incident so far. He was wrong.

"All back! Hard! Now! Come on guys! Dig in as hard as you can!" Doug was shouting.

As Johnny complied, he suddenly saw the problem. A few hundred feet downstream, a tree was down, blocking the left half of the river. If they went into the tree, they would be in serious trouble. Johnny knew enough about fast water in drainage ditches to know all about the risks of strainers created by debris in the river. The raft could get stuck and a man who was thrown out could find himself trapped by the tree branches. The river current would force him down under the strainer and unless he somehow made it through, he would be dead in minutes.

Doug had turned the raft so it was facing the opposite shore.

"All forward!" Doug's voice was loud and commanding. "Hard, guys! Dig in! Paddle like your life depended on it!" He did not add that it might.

With the efforts of all in the raft, the men reached the right side of the river just in time to narrowly miss the tree. Johnny felt Doug use his paddle to push up against the fallen timber, which assured that they had an extra foot of clearance as they moved by.

Just as quickly as it had begun, it was over. The water calmed, and the men tried to calm their heavy breathing.

"Alright men. Job well done. Paddles up. Everyone relax. I don't know about you, but I need a second to regroup."

Johnny wondered how many of the others realized the peril they had just faced. Looking at Roy, he was sure that he had known. Roy now had his eyes closed, perhaps in an effort to slow his heartbeat and calm his breathing. Johnny looked around and noticed that others were doing the same thing. He took a deep breath and tried to refocus. It only took a moment of breathing in the air around him, and he was at peace. Doug's voice, once again, broke his concentration.

"Okay guys, two strokes forward and let's sit for a minute."

The men paddled the two strokes and found themselves parked in a calm eddy on the riverside. Johnny pulled his paddle into the raft and turned to face the guide.

Roy leaned back and stretched his back and shoulder muscles as he turned to face Doug. He couldn't help but notice the looks of relief and elation on the faces of the men around him. Johnny, especially, seemed to be reveling in the experience.

At the back of the raft, Doug had found his small dry sac among the supplies. Holding it tightly, he opened the clasp and removed a two-way radio. Roy hadn't realized that Doug had brought along a means of communicating with Barry or someone else on shore, but now that he thought about it, it made perfect sense.

"I need to do this now," Doug explained. "Once we get to our camp site, I lose the signal."

Looking around, Roy realized he was not the only one who was trying to work the aches and kinks out of his back and shoulders. Mike was flexing his shoulders while Marco rotated his right arm. Cap and Johnny were both rubbing the muscles on the back of their necks. Chet seemed to be trying to flex every muscle in his upper body, waving his arms back and forth despite the fact that he was still holding his paddle. Before Roy could comment on the risk Chet was posing, Doug made contact with someone on the other end of the radio.

"Hey Barry, are you there?"

The static squealed on the radio before Barry's voice could be heard.

"Hey, Doug. How's it going out there?"

"It's been a great day. We're already to the campsite. It's just up ahead."

"Anyone take a swim?"

"Yeah, but no problem. These guys are unbelievable. I'm having a great time. We're actually a little ahead of schedule."

"That's great. The weather looks good for the next few days. Temps in the 70's, dropping into the 40's overnight. But it looks like the storm is going to hit us Thursday. It's due in sometime late in the day. You won't want to be late getting off the river. They're predicting a major electrical storm with high winds, so if it comes in early, be careful."

"Okay. We'll watch out for it. Looks like we'll have a great run. I'll be in touch tomorrow night to give you a better idea of when we expect to reach the take out. If I can't get a signal, I may not be able to reach you until we leave the canyon. If you don't hear from me, make sure the bus is there by 3 PM."

"Where do you plan to camp tomorrow?"

"Not sure yet. Either Martha's Pass or at the Seven Mile Creek, depending on how fast we go."

"Did you portage the Twins?"

"Nope, we ran it. No problem, but hey, you need to let folks know there's a ten foot tree down off the left bank right after the second twin. It's creating quite a strainer, and it comes up fast. We may want to look at sending someone in to take it out."

"Got it. I'll contact Dave. I think he's got a run leaving later this week. Then when you guys both get back, we can figure out what to do."

"Sounds like a plan. I'll try to talk to you tomorrow. If not, I'll see you at the take-out. But, Barry, don't forget to keep the radio with you this time."

"Right, boss. Like I'm the only one who's ever lost a radio."

"Hey, I didn't lose it that time. It just got temporarily misplaced is all."

The sound of laughter echoed over the radio before Barry signed off.

As Doug turned off the unit and bent down to pick up his dry sac, Chet swung around to face him, paddle still in hand. Cap nearly yelled out his warning.

"Chet, you twit! Watch out where you're swinging that …"

Before Cap could finish, or Chet could react to his words, Doug let out a scream. Roy watched as the T-grip of Chet's paddle made direct contact with Doug's eye. Reacting to the pain, Doug drew his hand to his face, releasing the radio, which took one bounce off the side of the raft and disappeared into the river.

"Shit! Oh damn!" A string of curses continued to pour out of Doug's mouth, as Roy and Johnny instinctively and simultaneously moved toward the injured man.

Chet, never having taken his eyes off the point where the radio disappeared, prepared to jump in the river. As he lifted one leg over the side of the raft, Doug reached out and grabbed hold of the man's life jacket.

"Let me go! I know where it went in. I can get it," Chet insisted.

With one hand still covering his injured eye, Doug maintained his hold on the jacket.

"Don't bother, Chet. It doesn't matter. It's not water proof."

"We can take it apart and dry it out."

"It won't work, Chet. Let it go. It's not that big of a deal."

Cap grabbed hold of the other side of Chet's vest and firmly pulled down.

"Listen to Doug. Just sit, and for God's sake put that damn paddle down."

Impeded by the supplies, Roy and Johnny found themselves unable to reach Doug's side. Considering the options, Roy remembered what Doug had just said about the campsite. It may be quicker to go forward than to try moving this stuff here.

"Doug, how bad is your eye?"

"It's okay. No big deal."

"Take your hand away, let me see it."

Doug looked up, and slowly removed his hand from his face. Even from a few feet away, Roy could see that Doug's face was swollen and bleeding, but he wasn't able to tell how much of the damage, if any, was to the eye itself.

Roy looked at his partner, seeking an opinion on their best course of action. Johnny asked Doug, "How far to the campsite?"

"About five minutes at most. It's just around the bend on the right."

"I think we should just get him there, and then take care of it," Roy suggested.

Johnny nodded his agreement.

"Okay, men," Cap stepped in. "You heard Roy. Let's paddle hard and get to the campsite. We're going to have to do this without a rudder, so let's at least try to make it without too many too many unplanned detours."

Doug spoke up. "Thanks, Hank, but I can still provide a rudder. It's mostly a straight shot, anyways."

Within five minutes, the raft was being pulled on shore. As Doug began to help unload, two sets of hands firmly pulled him back and guided him to a rock on the river shore.

"No way," Johnny said. "You are now under our direction, for the next few minutes at least."

"That's right," Roy added. "You're now officially a victim. That means we're now officially paramedics."

"And since you're part of this team now," Johnny offered, "once we're done, you get to kill Chet Kelly."

"Do I have to?" Doug asked.

Both Roy and Johnny nodded. "Yup," Johnny replied, "if you don't, he'll think you're mad, and he'll sulk all evening."

Roy gently held Doug's injured eye open while Johnny examined the area more closely, using the flashlight to check for possible damage to the eye itself.

"I'm confused," Doug admitted, pointedly ignoring the ministrations of the paramedics. "If I don't kill him, then Chet will think I'm mad?"

"I know it's strange, but trust us on this one," Roy advised. "He'll expect you to make him pay. Now, can you cover your other eye and tell me if your vision is impaired?"

Doug obeyed the instructions. "I can see fine. I've been through worse. Hey, how about if I make him clean the fish you guys are going to catch?"

"Oh yeah," Johnny grinned. "That's even better than making him clean a latrine."

Cap's voice interrupted their conversation. "Um, you do have something else besides fish for dinner, right? Please tell me you brought peanut butter."

Doug looked at Roy and Johnny questioningly.

"Is he serious?"

"'Fraid so," Roy replied. "Cap doesn't do fish."

"Do you catch them?"

"I'll catch them," Cap promised. "Just don't ask me to touch them, clean them, cook them, or eat them. But you hand me a rod with a worm already on it, and I'll gladly hold it out over the river."

Doug grinned widely before grimacing in pain.

"How's his eye, John?" Cap asked.

"I don't see any sign of damage to his eye." Turning back to Doug he continued, "You're gonna have one hell of a headache and a beaut of a shiner by tonight."

"It could even swell shut," Roy added. "In another setting I'd say you should hold ice on it, but maybe we can make something work with the water from the river. I put a butterfly bandage just above your eyebrow where it was bleeding some. That should be okay. I'll get you a couple of aspirin."

Johnny grabbed a towel from the first aide supplies. "I'll get this wet and you can hold it over your eye. It's not ice but I think Chet can tell you it's pretty close."

Chet had helped unload the raft and now stood in the background and watched as Roy and Johnny tended to Doug. He was unable to hear their conversation, but he could tell from Doug's expressions that the man was in pain. The occasional laughter calmed some of his fears, and he was appreciative of the fact that his friends were clearly serving to ease what might have been a very uncomfortable situation.

With a sigh, Chet forced himself to walk over to the small group. Their laughter died off as he approached, and he swallowed hard at the look on Cap's face.

How could I be so stupid? I knew better than to be swinging that paddle around. The man knew he owed their guide an apology. The accident was unintentional. Nonetheless, it was his responsibility, a fact that Chet did not take lightly.

"Is he okay?" Chet asked.

"Yeah, he's going to be fine," Roy replied.

"Hey, Doug, I'm really sorry. Man, you gotta know, I didn't do that on purpose."

"Really? Wow, I thought sure you'd been planning it all day," was Doug's reply.

Chet looked to make sure Doug was kidding. Assured of that fact, he replied, "No way. If I'd been planning it, it would have been Gage here who caught the paddle, and he would have ended up in the water, for sure."

Before Johnny could respond, Chet continued. "Seriously though, Doug. I really am sorry. If there's anything that I can do…"

"Well, now that you mentioned it, Chet. You need to set up camp, collect some wood, start a fire, catch some fish, clean the fish, cook dinner, clean up… You wouldn't mind taking care of all that, would you?"

Chet sputtered for a minute. "Well, um, sure, um, I mean, I'll help, you know?"

"Tell you what, Chet. You start collecting the firewood and building the fire. Then you can clean the fish once they're caught, okay?"

"Well sure. I mean, that's fair, right? But you know, you better let Mike do the fishing. If you wait for Gage here to catch the fish we'll never eat."

"Actually Chet, Hank here has agreed to be in charge of the fishing."

"Oh my God," Chet mumbled as he walked away, "the only fish Cap ever caught was a plastic one at the game booth at the fireman's picnic. We're never gonna eat."

Contrary to Chet's concerns, the fish were biting, and dinner was plentiful and satisfying. Clean up was quick, and the men were soon settled around a roaring campfire.

Wet suits had long since been replaced by jeans and sweatshirts, and wet clothes were placed on rocks near the fire, in hopes that they would dry out before morning. Warm and dry for the first time since early morning, the men were able to fully appreciate the beauty of the evening sky.

"I could get used to this," Mike commented as he moved closer to the fire.

"Imagine that," Marco said, "Mike Stoker happy to be sitting in front of a fire with a whole river of water rushing past."

"It's more than the fire and the water, Marco," Mike shot back. "It's the whole thing. The whole day has been great. Don't you guys feel it? It's like nothing I've ever done before."

"How often do you do this, Doug?" Cap asked.

"Often as I can," was his reply. "During the spring and summer I manage to get out on a river about once a week. Mostly it's day trips, but the trips like this… these are my favorites."

"Do you ever get tired of it?" Johnny wanted to know.

"Well, there are some days when someone is here who just shouldn't be, you know, someone forced into this who is really better off spending their days behind a desk being waited on by their secretary. Those days I could live without. But mostly, no. I never get tired of it. How about you guys? You ever get tired of being firemen?"

"Tell you what," Johnny answered. "You tell me that you're hiring river guides, and I'll walk away from it right this minute."

"You don't mean that," Roy countered. "This is great, but you don't mean that you'd really walk away. I know you better than that."

"Yeah, Gage," Chet added. "It's in your blood. You know that as well as we do. Once a fireman, always a fireman."

"What made you become a fireman, Chet?" Doug wanted to know.

"I'm a Kelly. What else was I going to do?"

"Huh? What does being a Kelly have to do with it?"

"The Kellys have always been firemen. My father is a fireman. His father was a fireman and so was his father before him. Uncles, cousins, my brother, we're all firemen. It's in the blood."

"Did you ever think about doing anything else?"

"Are you kidding? No way! I'd have been thrown out in the street for even thinking such a thought. Besides, what could be better than being a fireman?"

"Nada," Marco offered. "When I was seven, my Tia Marita's home caught fire. I knew that night this was what I'd do. I was fascinated and terrified. Those firemen worked really hard to save her house and her things. They even went back for her dog, Taco. I decided that this was something I wanted to be a part of. Being a firemen means helping people, being there for them when they think there's no hope. That's what makes this more than just a job for me. I could never walk away."

Silence followed as each man contemplated the truth of Marco's statement. Roy looked up as Johnny began to speak.

"I couldn't either. Not really. You're right, Roy. I'd never be able to walk away. Not that there aren't days when it's tempting. I could be happy running rivers, you know, but in the end, I'd miss it. I'd feel, kinda, only half there, you know? I'd have to go back."

"Go back to what?" Mike asked. "If you couldn't be a paramedic, would you still want to be a fireman?"

"I don't know. I can't separate those things in my mind anymore. I used to think they were separate, but they aren't. I'm a fireman, I'm a rescue man, I'm a paramedic, it all goes together."

Mike wasn't going to let it go. "What if the county changed things, like up north, and the paramedics operated under the hospital rather than the fire department? What if you had to ride an ambulance all day and let other guys fight the fires and do the rescue the work? Then what would you choose?"

Johnny shook his head. "Geez, Mike. You say nothing for five years and now this. I liked it better when you were the strong silent type."

Once the laughter abated, Johnny continued.

"I really don't know. Honestly, I can't explain it. All I know for sure is that I'm doing something I was meant to do."

Johnny looked over and noticed his partner nodding. Without any words being spoken, it was clear that everyone was waiting for Roy to speak next.

"Well," Roy began, "I can tell you that it's not because it makes Joanne happy. And it's definitely not for the money. In fact, if there's one thing that is most likely to lead to an argument at home, it's my career choice. So I guess I must be getting something out of it to stick with it."

Roy stopped, but no one spoke, so he continued.

"I'm not really sure why I decided to be a fireman in the first place. It wasn't a family profession. My dad was in the construction business. My mom thought I was crazy. But there was just something about it that called out to me. Once I started though, I knew I'd never stop. What could be more right than trying to stop a force that has the power to destroy. If I stopped being a fireman and a paramedic, I don't know what else I'd do that would ever feel as worthwhile.

"As for the paramedic part, well, that just makes it all the better. It's just like the fire fighting. Once I tasted it, I knew I could never turn back."

Doug turned to Mike. "What about you?"

Chet answered before Mike could respond.

"Are you kidding? Mikey was born a fireman. Hell, legend has it that the first time he pee'd he put out his father's cigarette."

Mike joined the laughter before adding, "Nah, you got it wrong, Chet. It was a cigar. I don't do anything small."

The men waited expectantly for Mike to continue, but he remained silent for several minutes. When he spoke, his voice was low.

"There was never any question about what I was going to do with my life. I guess Kelly's legend isn't really that far off. My dad was a fireman, and ever since I can remember I wanted to be just like him. He used to let me visit him at his station, and I would sit up on the big rigs and pretend to drive. Even back then, I knew that was what I was going to do. The day I became an engineer was one of the best days of my life. I finally fulfilled a life long dream, and you should have seen the look of pride on my old man's face. There's no way in hell I'd ever walk away from this job. When I go, they'll be carrying me out on top of my engine."

"Hey guys, we've gotta get him out in the fresh air more often," Marco piped up. "Here all these years we thought he had nothing to say, and turns out it was just the smoke and smog constricting his vocal chords."

Cap was still shaking his head when he realized all eyes were on him.

"Well, Hank," Doug persisted. "What's your story?"

Hank cleared his throat before he began. He had never really talked about this with his men. Knowing their stories, he wasn't sure how they would react to his. But he couldn't very well deflect the question now. So he took a deep breath and began.

"Well, the truth of the matter is, it wasn't a choice but was something that was thrust upon me. When I joined the service, at the end of boot camp they assigned us all to different companies. My sergeant came up to me and said, 'Stanley, you're gonna fight fires.' So I did. When I got out of the service, I didn't know how to do much else, so I joined the department.

"Don't get me wrong. I love it. I wouldn't trade it for anything. It's just that I didn't exactly get the chance to choose."

"But, Cap," Mike pushed, "you've been a fireman for how many years now? Surely you've had the opportunity to make a different choice along the way. Why did you stick with it? There was always the GI bill. You could have changed careers anytime."

"I never wanted to change. When I got out of the service, I wanted to get married and I needed a job. It was the easiest choice to make at the time. I don't know when it became more than that. Maybe it was when Grace's father offered to get me set up in his business. Grace wanted me to say yes. The kids wanted me to say yes. The money was better. It was sure as hell safer. But I said no. I guess it was then that I knew that, my choice or not, it was the right choice. "

The silence that ensued was at first comforting, then disquieting. Doug wondered if he had made the right decision in leading the men down this path. As he considered what to do about it, the crew took matters into their own hands.

"Hey, Cap," Mike broke the silence. "Since we seem to playing truth or dare here tonight, I've got something I need to know."

Had the comment come from Chet, Cap may have ignored it. Coming from his engineer, he felt obligated to respond.

"Okay, Mike. What is it?"

"What ever possessed you to set fire to the chief's hat? Time to fess up."

"That's a secret I'll take to the grave, my friend."

With that, the serious conversation of the night drew to a close. The sun had set. The men spent several more minutes chatting and laughing together before banking the fire, exchanging goodnights, and settling into their tents.

Doug had sought Hank's advice on how to assign tents. In the end, the captain had decided to put Marco and Mike together, while he bunked in with Doug. That left Roy, Johnny and Chet sharing the bigger tent. As Johnny and Chet began immediately to bicker, Hank wondered what had possessed him to ever put them together.

As if reading Hank's thoughts, Doug said quietly, "This is supposed to be about team building remember. Let them work it out."

Cap wasn't sure he agreed, but it was too late to make a change now. Just the same, before retiring to his own tent, he stuck his head through the flap of the three-man tent.

"Goodnight, gentlemen," he said. Looking directly at Johnny and Chet, he continued. "You two are going to get along tonight, right?"

Both men looked up with put on expressions of pure innocence.

"Of course, Cap," Chet replied. "We're buddies, remember?"

"Yeah, Cap," Johnny added. "You have nothing to worry about."

Cap shook his head and walked away, noting that Mike and Marco's tent was already dark and silent. Returning to his own tent, he climbed into his sleeping bag and closed his eyes, glad to note things seemed to be calm.

He was just beginning to relax when he heard Roy shout, "Chet, what the hell are you doing?"

Cap groaned but made no move to intervene. Instead he lay back and listened to the conversation coming from the tent next to his.

"Kelly, what is that?"

"Nothing for you to worry about, Gage. Just go to sleep."

"Chet, what are you doing? Would you stop kicking me? Ow! Johnny, that was my head you just punched."

"I'm just trying to see what Chet's doing. Kelly, what is that thing? Oh my God! Roy, he's got an air mattress. He's blowing up an air mattress!"

"Mind your own business, Gage. What's it to you? It fit in my gear. Just because I wanted to be a little better rested in the morning, what's so wrong with that, huh?"

"You're soft,