Rafting

Colin Griffith

Our rafts glided quickly down the muddy, white water of the deep, lush valley of the Ayung River. Lightning flashed in the distance as the sky began to darken. The swallows were swooping down competing with fish to get floating insects in the flowing river.I looked back to see the girls scream as their raft spun out of control down swirling, wavy rapids and collide into intricately carved mossy stone reliefs on the sandstone wall. As they hit the guides yelled, "Boom -Boom!" Waterfalls dropped through the thick, green jungle. Splashing the long, skinny bamboo and enormous fern trees. Our guides pushed our red, rubbery rafts into the largest fall. I got pummeled by gallons of warm water. We passed a large field of tall, majestic palm trees; under a hut a family selling coconut milk had sought shelter from the sheets of sprinkling rain. On a rocky 100-foot cliff face a monkey grabbed small shrubs to get to the next tree. Our aluminum paddles clinked the metal rope holders as we paddled. We stopped at a little, brown, sandy bank, and took a swimming break. The water was cold compared to the humid air, but it felt good after hard paddling. To get across we had to swim and aim up and over so the strong current could push us down to our destination. I could not help but get water in my mouth. It tasted dirty and gritty with mud. When we had reached the other side of the river we scrambled up the slippery rocks so we could jump off and be carried down the deep section of the river. As I floated I was eye level with the pitter-patter of the large raindrops on the water. I got pushed into a runoff waterfall where the water was a dark, orange brown.The wind blew the mist towards me. It smelled like the muddy rice paddies from the top of the canyon of where it had come from. As I passed it the air became fresh again with the smell of flowers, rain, and trees. We got back into the rafts and started paddling. It was the best Balinese Mother's Day rafting trip ever.