Lot's Wife Edition 5 2022

strength and yeeted
my monumental
backpack over my
head and onto the
log, as my raft was
sent under the tree
with me still in it.
With the bag momentarily
safe, I extricated
my sopping
body from the raft,
then grappled with
this new problem:
the rapid water was
forcing the boat
down and under the
log, but the air in
the raft was forcing
it up and out. At first
I favoured this latter
force, and tried
pulling the raft back
out to where it had
started. No luck. It
became clear that
the entire raft had
to be pushed under
the log. I climbed
up onto the raft and
began to jump vigorously,
pressing it
under the water, defying
its buoyancy.
Each lunge sent it a
little further under,
and then, with one
final shove, it was
gone. The raft raced
under the water,
under the log, and
shot out to safety
on the downstream
side. And because
the raft was the
only thing keeping
me from entering
Lot’s Wife • Edition Five
the water and it
was now gone, I fell
into that icy, rapid
stream. My arms
caught the log and
I dangled there, fatigued
to no end,
struggling against
the current to exit
the water. I adjusted
my grip, kicked endlessly
with my feet,
but could not find
the bottom. Ought I
to follow the raft under
the water and
under the log? There
was no way of knowing
what was under
that turbid water, I
would have needed
to submit to the
will of the current,
and I was sure that
that was not the answer.
Mercifully my
feet found the riverbed,
and with a
final heave I made
my way to the bank.
I was too tired to
stand. But my raft,
paddle, water bottle
and shoes were
all strewn about the
downstream side,
and needed somehow
to be located.
I never did find my
left boot. I spent the
rest of the weekend
walking barefoot,
accumulating cuts
and blisters, until a
kind old lady drove
us back into town
and another kind
old lady sold me a
pair of neon pink
Sauconys at an op
shop for $3. With
moaning stomachs,
sodden clothes,
ill-fitting shoes, and
a concern for the
bike abandoned so
early in the trek, a
bus mercifully arrived
and our deliverance
from the turbid
and turbulent
river came. I have
always respected
water. And the
faster that water is
moving, the more
respect it demands.
But I cruelly found
optimism’s ceiling
on this journey: it is
not always enough
to approach a task
with a happy-golucky
framing and
a self-assuredness.
A little planning
can go a long way.
PS if you find my
shoe, do please
get in touch!
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