Not+My+Kind+of+Adventure

Sophia Wright November 18th, 2009 ¾ block Not My Kind of Adventure “You almost ready, sweetie?” my grandmother pleaded. “Yes, just a minute, you know these wetsuits are very difficult to get into,” I replied. Actually, I was so scrawny that it wouldn’t be hard at all, but I was less than thrilled to go through with this whole whitewater rafting thing. I peeked through the crack of the soggy plywood stall and saw my cousin Tyri bending and squatting in her new purple wetsuit. “It’s not so bad once you break it in,” she said encouragingly. I chuckled when I saw how it clashed with her bright pink hair. I loved her dearly with her wits, courage, and unique sense of style, but I was angry with her right now because it was her idea to go whitewater rafting on one of the most violent rivers in Canada. I tore the tags off the rubber garment I was to be wearing and decided that the only way I could see my favorite cousin be happy was if I gave it a try. “Sweetie, you’re going to have to hurry up before your grandpa gets back with the life-jackets” grandma said impatiently. Grandpa Boris had just walked in with the bulky yellow vests. “Too late,” he sang. “I’m already here.” “Sorry honey, she isn’t quite ready yet,” my grandmother said. “You know dear, I don’t think she’s so jazzed about going. Maybe I should stay back with her,” he suggested. I stepped out of the changing room and quickly put on my life-jacket to cover up half of my outfit’s hideousness. “Nonsense!” I said. They could see that I was nervous but thankfully they didn’t point it out to Tyri. She hugged me, and before I knew it, we were sitting in a stinky, repulsive, mustard-yellow raft. Tyri let go of the dock just after the instructor had gotten in the boat. We were an odd-looking group: my grandpa Boris, my grandma Yolanda, my cousin with pink hair, and me, the girl clenching the raft with all my might. Our instructor stared at us for a moment, and then commenced the lesson. “Okay, while we’re still in the quiet part of the river, I’d like to take this opportunity to teach you all that you need to do while you’re in this boat. Just hold on if we go over any bumps, and I’ll give you further instruction once we get to the waterfall” he yelled, even though there was no competing noise. I gasped. A waterfall? Why on earth are we going off a waterfall with two old people- excuse me, senior citizens in the boat? This is insane! As we were careening smoothly down the river, I looked up into the innocent blue sky and saw the beautiful fluffy clouds waltzing with the sun. I found it wonderful how they were so courageous as to dance without music, and I praised their loveliness for the time that my life gave me. Suddenly, I heard this screaming as the boat jolted us all to one side. I then noticed that the bloodcurdling noise was coming from me. We had hit a small submerged rock, and if that was my reaction, I’ll probably explode if we go near the waterfall. “We’re coming up to our first drop, and it’s a big one” our instructor yelled. I didn’t know what a drop was, but as I was thrown into the air and landed on my cousin, I immediately knew. We both landed face down in the raft. I sat up and looked around to see if everyone was okay, and yet again, I was the only one startled by this experience. “That’s okay, hon’, that’s how I reacted my first time on the river. I was eight.” He yelled. Eight? On this river? I would have thrown a fit! Tyri looked off the bow of the small raft and got this excited, overdone grin. Knowing her, I knew that could only mean one thing: something absurd and dangerous was lying straight ahead of us. As the noise grew louder and the raft moved faster, I started noticing that the river seemed to be ending not too far foreword. I gasped when I realized that it was the waterfall. I started screaming and crying as we neared the top of the plummet of doom. I started counting the seconds to when we would fall, but time seemed to be getting slower every minute. Tyri gave me a smile, closed her eyes, and screamed with me as we started to fall. Down we went. I looked over at Tyri was clinging to my arm. For the first time ever I saw true fear in her eyes. She was shaking as we hit the surface of the water below. We swam to the shore of whatever lake we had the pleasure of not dying in, and I started to laugh. I hugged my cousin who was showing a nervous smile. “Why are you laughing?” she asked. “This whole time I was trying to act excited so that I wouldn’t ruin your time, and you were doing the same,” I replied. “You seemed so happy to be doing this and I didn’t want to show that I was scared,” she expressed; embarrassed that she had to tell me. “You never have to be worried that I think you’re a scaredy cat,” I said. “If you don’t want to do something, you can just say so!” “Well, to be honest, I’m afraid of the water,” she said. “That’s okay,” I said. “Really? Okay, then next summer let’s climb Kilimanjaro instead!” she exclaimed. Then she got the excited, overdone grin again, and we both giggled