Arkansas River accident claims life, causes introspection

Launched at the boat ramp, flipped at the bridge, was brought to shore 1/4 mile later. What was supposed to be a fun run down one of the relatively tamest stretches of the Arkansas River, turned to tragedy mere seconds after the raft from Rocky Mountain Outdoor Center hit the 58-degree water, then coursing at 3720 cfs – the highest anyone had seen it since 1995.

Today’s rafting accident literally hit close to home for this writer as the efforts to save the life of a 61-year-old Woodland Park man took place about 20 yards up and across the river from my backyard.

The response to the accident was swift and sure. Salida Fire Department veteran Chris Bainbridge hopped into his kayak near my house and ferried across the river to assess the victim’s condition and better inform other arriving public safety personnel from Salida Fire and Chaffee County EMS.

From my vantage point, to my admittedly untrained eye, it seemed the team worked with precision, efficiency and dedication. First aid and CPR was administered on the riverbank for long, long minutes and continued while they hauled the man up the steep riverbank to the waiting ambulance.

I could have been shooting digital video or photos. Might have even made some spare change selling the images to another news outlet. Instead, though not religious, I prayed. I prayed for the man, for his family and for the rescuers. I prayed this man would pull through to laugh another day. I prayed that his friends and loved ones would not have to remember this day, this place and this river with sadness. I prayed the highly trained men and women who came to the aid of this stranger would not have to go home and tell their loved ones that despite their best professional efforts, they lost one.

As the ambulance left the scene, the body language of the rescuers made me fairly certain this story would have a sad ending. And it did. My deepest sympathies to the family and friends of James Kennedy.

In this first decade of the 21st century, we have every reason to believe we have tamed our world. Mankind has plumbed the greatest depths of the ocean and walked on the moon. We have dammed, diverted and in some cases downright destroyed rivers to harness them in the name of progress. Each year millions of people joyfully raft, kayak, ducky, float, swim, inner tube and now stand-up surf down rivers all over the world. Yet today, I am reminded that as much as rivers are the lifeblood of the ecosystems and communities through which they meander and endlessly flow, as Salidans are reminded today and as Iowans have learned this past week, rivers can just as easily become unconscionable property destroyers and lifetakers.

The same is true of mountains. I remember when the seemingly invincible mountaineer Alex Lowe lost his life on a Himalayan mountain called Shishapangma. It made me realize that some days, even the best trained and most knowledge and experienced humans can do everything right and still lose their life to the whims of Mother Nature.

In that reality lies the allure of the outdoors for me and many of my friends and business associates here in Salida and throughout the outdoor, ski, travel and paddlesports industries in which I work.

Yet as easily as I am certain they can kill me, it is important to me that there are still wild, untamed places I can go where the raw beauty makes me weep. From a wilderness forest to the harsh yet fragile desert, river canyons, ancient Himalayan trade route trails, to the middle of the Atlantic Ocean – these places harbor the challenges that make me stronger and are the first places I retreat to when I most seek solace.

This evening, I listened to a trio of Brazilians play their joyous, percussive and melodic music at Bongo Billys. The dark-haired woman with the silky voice and gentle Trade Winds smile sang soothing songs with lyrics few seemed to care whether or not they understood. Foot tapping and body swaying was infectious. Some folks sang along. Time danced onward. The white noise of the river will lull me to sleep tonight. Tomorrow the mighty Arkansas will continue toward its inevitable snowmelt-infused crescendo expected Sunday.