16th Annual Green River Race

(photo courtesy of Bo!)

I just started a new job: a desk job. And while I love the job itself, I don’t exactly love the constant sitting, indoors. I decided I need to make it a priority to get out and get moving, and thankfully I live in an area with an abundance of beautiful trails. For the past four weeks I have hiked every Saturday. I’ve hit the trail in Dupont, Glassy Bald at the Carl Sandburg House, and the Davidson River. As the fourth Saturday approached, I wondered where I would go. And then Christine called.

Christine is an old friend from college. Through Facebook we learned that we were now living close to one another: she in Spartanburg, and myself in Hendersonville. I’ve known for a while that she drives up the mountain often to go kayaking at the Narrows on the Green River. So, when she informed me that the Green River Race was this Saturday, I knew my hiking destination question had been answered.

It was the perfect fall day as I started down the trail with Christine and her good friend Annie. We were running because Christine needed to make it down to the river by the start of the race at noon. I didn’t last very long at this pace and soon Christine took off and Annie stayed behind to keep me company the rest of the way, at a slower pace. We were taking the longer way in, about 3.5 miles, in order to avoid some of the crowd. This was a really great trail with a good mixture of uphill, flat portions, and sloping down-hills.

We finally arrive at the head of the descent to the river. I am amazed at the number of people standing in line waiting to go down, there are a least two hundred or more. We get in line and chitchat with folks, when a young boy of about 12 comes running up the hill, breathless. “I found a faster way to get down,” he says to his Mom, panting. Annie starts following him, and I follow Annie. We’re thinking about catching up with Christine, about not missing the race, and avoiding waiting in the line for at least an hour.

We follow the boy down the incredibly steep descent to the river. We’re moving fast, grabbing roots and trees to keep us from tumbling down. We’re parallel to the folks who have been waiting in line for who knows how long. Some call out frustrated remarks, as we fly by. But we figure, we’re just following this kid, and it is the woods after all…not a grocery store line.

We make it to the bottom and the number of spectators once again shocks me, there must be a thousand people down here, crammed on to rocks. We find Christine perched with her camera on the edge of a rock right near the main run, the Gorilla. We squeeze our way near her. The excitement in the air is tangible. I first notice the strong smells of all the people I’m crowded in with. It smells like armpits, pot, adrenaline, beer, all mixed with the fresh scent of the woods and the fall air.

I can’t really concentrate on the race yet, I’m still taking in all that is around me. I’m surprised by some of the folks I see at the bottom. “How did you make it down here?” I think. Some are older, some are overweight, and some have lots of makeup-on and nice clothes. The majority, though, are the regular outdoorsy types – folks who eat, sleep, and breathe any kind of outdoor activity. These folks are decked in popular outdoors brands in one of five colors. It’s a sea of black, grey, green, brown, and the occasional blue.

There’s a loud gasp through the crowd and I turn to see a kayker going down the Gorilla, backward. At the bottom, he’s upside down, and then after a few tense moments, he rolls and pops back up, shaking his head to catch his bearing before he continues down the rapids.

The Gorilla is the most extreme and challenging part of the Narrows. For the next half hour I cheer and gasp with the audience as we watch the racers run the Gorilla. Some do it with such ease, precision, and skill. One man goes down raising his paddle in the air, like he’s riding a roller coaster. The crowd goes wild for him. At one point we all hold our breath waiting for the rescue team at the bottom to get hold of a man that went down backwards, then upside down, and then came out of his kayak completely. It continues on like this: the sound of a horn, the tip of a brightly colored kayak appearing at the top of the falls, and the cheering or pained “ooooohhhhhs” of the crowd as the kayaker runs the Gorilla.

After a while I decide to leave. I am dreading the climb back up to the trail. Every muscle in my body is all ready sore. I sit on a rock and watch the crowd, drinking some water, and trying to give myself a pep-talk for climbing out of here. All of a sudden there is the sound of whistles and the crowd starts to move. Then I see the rescue team carrying a kayaker on a stretcher, yelling at one another to “keep him flat, cover him up” and then at the crowd, “move out of the way or make a line to pass him!” I wonder what happened. I didn’t see his run. I hope to God he will be OK.

As I hike back out, after I’ve caught my breath from the challenging climb up from the river, I start to think about the people brave enough to race. The kayaker on the stretcher represents what can happen if the run doesn’t go smoothly. These athletes take a huge risk, hurtling themselves over this white-water. The water is powerful and unyielding. I wonder what it’s like to look at that power and decide that you’re more powerful, that you can actually take the Gorilla on. I am in awe of their tenacity, knowing the many hours they must have trained to make it to this point, this race.

This has definitely been the best of all my Saturday hikes. In fact, this has been the best event I’ve attended all year. The fresh air of the woods, especially in the fall, makes me feel so much more alive, not to mention, the way my heart starts pumping as I trek up and down hills for miles and miles. The real beauty of this day, though, is not just the woods or the rushing river; It’s been watching brave people who are not afraid to take a risk.

I don’t know about you, but I need to be challenged to take more risks. This does not mean I will be hurtling myself over the Gorilla any-time soon, or even taking up kayaking at all. However, there are other kinds of Gorillas in my life, things I need to decide that I am more powerful than, that I have the skills and the training to take head on.