Beyond the Final Rapid: The Unexpected Encore

How One Snake River Rafting Trip Created Lasting Connections 

“Hey, hi, hello,” Carol approached me, brimming with excitement. She was clutching her notebook against her brightly patterned dress, and her hair was a little tousled. She looked at me over her reading glasses. “We have an idea,” she said matter-of-factly. I was elbow-deep in a bucket of dishwater and also dressed a bit silly. My disco ball-themed top matched the vibe of the evening. It was the last night of our Snake River rafting trip through Hells Canyon, and the group had been laughing uproariously for hours. 

It had been a classic trip start, and in a lot of ways a classic evolution, too. Like many OARS trips, the group arrived at the put-in as a conglomeration of pairs, trios, and solo travelers from various corners of the United States. Their palpable happiness was a recurring melody of this trip. With each passing day, their comfort with each other increased and so did their laughter. This too, is not so uncommon on a multi-day river trip. But by the time we donned our finest garb on the last evening, the level of friendship (and goofiness) had risen exponentially. The ending of the trip took a unique turn: one that extended the impact of the trip long after our last rapid. It started with “the idea.”

Carol had the air of a toddler giddily approaching a grown-up on that final evening. Eager to hear “the idea”, I pulled my hands from the dish buckets and turned to face her. “We’re doing a Secret Santa!” she proclaimed. I’m certain a bead of sweat with a sense of humor took that exact moment to fall from my forehead. In JULY? I thought to myself. “Right now?” I asked, confused. “No, no, in December,” Carol waved her hand through the air, dismissing my skepticism, meeting it instead with wide eyes and a wider smile. “Now, I need your address. Where do you live?” All business, she pulled a pen out and opened her notebook, suddenly poised to create a handmade spreadsheet. 

It turned out that while the guides had been making dinner, the group had been devising a plan. Tickled as they were by their burgeoning friendships, they wanted a reason to stay in touch. Coming from so many different corners of the States, they capitalized on the opportunity to share about their home states. The rules were set: the gift must be something your home state is well-known for. With that, Carol dropped all our names in a hat, and we selected. 

When I got back to service, after the trip, I flipped four and a half months ahead to December in my planner and left myself a note: “Gift for Barbara.” I promptly forgot about it. 

Four months later, I returned home from a crisp November walk with my dog. My mind was spinning: items on my to-do list and emails that needed sending flitted about in my brain. I almost tripped on the package sitting on the front stoop.  I didn’t immediately recognize the name. Who do I know from Washington? I wondered to myself as I took it inside and sliced the tape. The first thing I saw when I pulled back the flap was a Whidbey Coffee label. I gasped and was immediately transported back to the Snake River. I remembered Matt and Randy sitting in the front of my boat sharing all the things they loved about living on Whidbey Island. They had regaled me about the best parts of retirement. We had traded adventure stories. The trip memories elbowed my work thoughts away as I finished opening the box, which also contained a beautiful mug made by a native artist. I was so touched. 

Right away, I made myself a cup of tea. Then I curled up on the couch and clicked through the shared photo album from our trip. I was grinning through my reminiscence before I even took my first sip of tea. 

After the holidays, I asked some of the rafters about the exchange. “It was fun to have a surprise gift on my doorstep,” Carol shared. “The chocolates I received sure didn’t last long!” She enjoyed her handcrafted sweets, but she added how much she enjoyed sending a gift to another rafter, as well. I shared that sentiment: I replayed trip memories as I decided on the perfect huckleberry goodies to ship off to the East Coast for Barbara. The exchange had unique regional wines, locally made apple butter, cured meats and handblown glass. All made in the gifter’s home region. Edie went above and beyond, making each rafter their own mini fruit-cake, a holiday tradition she had talked about on the trip.

The ripples of connection didn’t stop there. Edie’s holiday travel plans took her through Scott and Bruce’s home state, and they got to do part of the gift exchange in person. “We got to spend the evening catching up. It was so much fun! It just added to the trip memories,” Edie reflected.  

It’s wonderful to connect on the water, but extra special when groups can extend the connection back in real life with a simple idea like a Secret Santa exchange. 

I still think about Matt when I pull out my mug in the morning, and it reminds me of the whole cast of characters. Suddenly I’m remembering laughing with Randy, a retired scientist, about monkeys in space; I’m learning how to engineer toys to be adaptive; I’m watching Kerry patch a hole in the dory. I’m in a disco-ball top, laughing at a preposterous idea that turned out to be nothing but. I’m smiling through all the memories a year and a half later.