Dani Whalen noticed the first slivers of whitewater ahead on the Roaring Fork River, the current picking up.
“Okay,” she called out to the eight people in helmets and life vests aboard her raft, “it’s been pretty much of a nature hike so far. Anyone ready for a little fun?”
As if on cue, the young couple from L.A. decked out in their bright Lululemons, Maury and Steve from Atlanta, he just a month into his retirement from a sales job, and the family from Michigan with their kids in the bow, all shouted back in unison, “We are!” and “Let’s do it!”
“Good to hear!” Dani said, catching the sight of spray up ahead from the opening set of rapids known as Entrance Exam, “ ’cause you’ve come to the right place.”
Dani was a whitewater guide along the stretch of the river known as Slaughterhouse Falls, outside Aspen, Colorado. And by “fun,” she meant navigating the series of eight Class Three and Four rapids that were the main draw of the river’s four-mile run. Not that there was much real danger. They were all tucked in helmets and life vests, of course, and Dani had done this run hundreds of times with barely a hitch. But the first sign of froth rising usually did engender a blanched face or two—Class Fours had a way of doing that to first-timers. But Dani knew exactly how to get them going as well.
On any morning, she could point to an eagle soaring above the tree line, or a long-branch elk with its doe along the river’s edge; or a silver trout streaking underneath them in the current, which was definitely picking up now. That’s why she loved what she did. That, and the triumphant yelps and whoops that were always a part of being shot out of Crossbow, icy water cascading all over you.
But it was the thrill of whitewater that was truly in her blood.
She had been a geology major back in college, back east at Bowdoin in Maine, and she could easily have been in med school or doing fourteen-hours days on Wall Street like a lot of her friends, probably making more in one month than what she pulled in in a season out here. But this river was in her blood. She’d grown up on it. She knew most anyone who had anything to do with it. After college she came back for the summer, and started earning money doing for work what she’d always done for love, and entering a few competitions. She knew she wasn’t exactly building a real life for herself remaining out here—guiding in the summer, teaching snowboarding to the youngsters in the winter—certainly not a career. Her dad was an orthopedic surgeon, at Brigham and Women’s Hospital back in Boston, but he was in Chile right now on a teaching fellowship. Her older sister, Aggie, was in med school in Austin, and her younger brother, Rick, the real brain of the family, was studying 3-D graphic engineering at Stanford.
But Dani loved what she was doing—not to mention she could make it over the Gallows, a Class Five on the Colorado River with a twenty-foot drop, as well as any of the guys. And for her there was no payback better than the wide-eyed thrill and the yelps of exhilaration from a family being shot out of Carwheel, with its 180-degree spin, to remind her of how much happier she was out here than back east behind a desk somewhere. In her skin-hugging neoprene vest and Oakley shades, her sun-streaked curly blond hair up in a scrunchie, her blue eyes focused on the river up ahead, every day was a reminder, that for the time being at least, she’d made the right choice.
That morning, she was handling the early morning run. Out at eight, back by noon. It was one of those picture-perfect Colorado days: the sky blue, the scent of aspens filling your nostrils, whitewater biting at you from the late spring runoff. Megan and Harlan, nine and eleven, were up in front with their parents right behind them. Dani didn’t want to scare them, though navigating the Falls pushing around two thousand cubic feet per second did require a bit of technique. Everyone was laughing, pitching in paddling, enjoying the ride. Her job was to give them the time of their lives.
As they made their way around Jake’s Bend, for the first time they could see the froth from Entrance Exam rising into the air. That’s when you knew you didn’t come here for a nature ride.
“Look!” Harlan was the first to point up ahead.
“I don’t know . . .” Dani said teasingly, “those Exams are looking a little angry this morning. I hope everyone studied up!” It was a bit of a performance, of course, to build the tension. The real trick was not letting them realize that. She always loved catching those first unsure looks of anxiousness on everyone’s faces about what lay ahead.
“We may lose a few of you over the side,” she said, “so remember what I said if you end up going in.” Feet-first, and not to struggle against the current. And if they got trapped in an eddy, to just relax, not fight it, and sooner or later it would pop you back out. Dani had to tell them all that—like a flight attendant pointing out the exits on a plane—but in three years of guiding she hadn’t had an incident yet. “You people on the left, I’m gonna need a little help today, okay? I need you to paddle like crazy as soon as I give the word. Otherwise, we won’t make it through. You all up for that?”
They all took hold of their paddles and responded with nods of determination. “We are!”
“Good,” Dani said, maneuvering the raft down the left side of the rapid.
“So what about us . . . ?” Steve, the retired salesman from Atlanta who was on the right side asked with some disappointment.
“Okay, you guys on the right, I didn’t mean to leave you out . . .” Dani held back, timing it perfectly as they reared, about to go over the first big dip. “All you have to do is just hold on for your lives!”
The froth kicked up and the raft plunged about five feet as she traversed through the tricky S-curve at the top of Entrance Exam, a chute of three interlocking, swirling rapids. The large raft careened against a rock. Everyone screamed as they were thrown up and down, out of their positions. “Okay, left side . . . Get ready . . .” Dani warned. “We’re gonna take on some big-time water in a second.” The raft kicked sideways, bouncing up out of a hole like a rubber bath toy in a tub.
“Now, paddle, everyone! Paddle!”
They lurched forward, nine paddles propelling them down the chute, icy water spilling in from all sides. Everyone on the left side worked feverishly, letting out screams and whoops. Dani guided the raft around and they spun through the last part virtually sideways, a huge “Whoa!” sounded as they dropped down another four-foot dip and then bounced out as if ejected by a slingshot, water cascading everywhere.
“All right!” Dani hollered. Everyone was screaming and drenched. “Everyone like that?”
“That was so cool!” Megan shouted, as they made it into a calmer stretch in between rapids.
“We lose anyone?” Dani asked above the whitewater roar. “Look around. I get docked if I don’t bring everyone back. Harlan, still with us, up there?”
The young girl was gleeful. Most fun ever. Her older brother, though, didn’t seem to think so and looked about as white as a ghost. Dani called up front, “What’s the matter, Harlan, you eat something that didn’t agree with you this morning?”
“No, ma’am,” Harlan said, blanched. “That was just really scary, that’s all.”
Everyone laughed.
“Well, now you’re a pro. From here on, it’s a piece of cake. And left side, that was great work! I want to thank you all for pulling us through. I did mention, didn’t I, that this was my first trip down, solo . . .” They all turned back to her. “No? Gosh, I left that out. I thought I’d told you all that. Well, maybe not my first, actually. I did do a demo run with one of the instructors when they gave me the job.”
Everyone was laughing. Barney’s Revenge was next. A legitimate Class Four. Followed by the Falls. Then One Too Far, where after you’re sure you’re through and start to relax, there’s this unexpected five-foot dip where your stomach drops along with the raft—the spot where Dani always yelled out, “Well, that’s the one too far!”
By Hell’s Half Mile they’d all been scared, exhilarated, bounced around like on a barroom bronco. Totally drenched. There were only a couple of more rapids to go. The Baby’s Cradle and Last Laugh, both less challenging Class Twos and Threes. The river was slightly calmer down here. Flat water, it was called. Though because of all the rains of the past week and the late spring runoff, there was a ton of water pushing them around, so every rapid posed a little challenge.
“Coming up on the Cradle . . .” Dani called out, a series of five interlocking chutes that gave you the sense of being rocked back and forth, hence the name. The first one always took you by surprise. She said, “I know I kinda gave you all the impression that it was going to be a piece of cake from here on in . . . Well, sorry—” As if from nowhere, the current grabbed them. “You all better start to paddle, guys . . .’cause I’m afraid I lied!”
The next sensation was your stomach plummeting like a jet that had just dropped three thousand feet, dipping and rising, water spilling in. The adrenaline was rising. Everyone screamed. It was slightly tricky here, bounce off a rock and come out of a turn the wrong way and you could capsize. Once, Dani spun around and had had to make it through Slingshot backward and had almost fallen out herself. This time she nailed it perfectly, excited whoops of “All right!” and “Piece of cake!” coming from Harlan, who was now clearly enjoying himself, along with a lot of water-soaked smiles.
“You guys are proving to be tougher than I thought. So next up—” Dani positioned herself to take on the next rapid.
That was when she saw something up ahead along the shore that didn’t seem right.
It was just a flash of red at first, below the third of the Cradle’s rapids, the easiest, called Baby’s Rattle. For a second it just looked like an overturned kayak floating there, which happened occasionally. Everyone else was either paddling or laughing at their drenched raft mates and hadn’t noticed it yet.
But as she drew closer, her worst fears grew real. It wasn’t just a kayak out there, there was something inside. Someone in it. The flash of red she saw turned out to be the rider’s wind jacket. Suddenly the people up front spotted it, too, pointing.
“Oh my God, what’s that! There’s someone in there!” Harlan’s mother exclaimed.
“I see it,” Dani said, feathering the raft closer. “Everyone just stay calm.” Though inwardly she acknowledged that this wasn’t a good sign. “We’re gonna pull in over here and I’ll go take a look.”
She pitched the raft along the easiest route down the next chute, her heart beating anxiously now. She knew most of the people who rode out here, especially the ones who came out this time of the morning.
“I’m gonna pull in over there.” She steered toward a shallow rock bed up ahead along the shore. “I want you to all get out.” That way the raft wouldn’t continue to drift downstream with her team still in it. “Steve, Dale,” she said to the two largest guys, “I want you to help me drag the raft up onto shore. Everyone please wait here. I’m gonna go take a look. I’m really sorry you have to see this.”
They disembarked and dragged the raft up onto the shore bed until it was secure. Dani grabbed the radio out of the nylon gear case and clipped it to her belt. “Everyone, please, wait here. The current’s a little tricky and can take you by surprise. So whatever you do, don’t wade in after me.”
They all muttered, okay.
She ran along the shallow rock bed in her Teva sandals, until she got as close as she could to the overturned craft. It was trapped in an eddy pool, water swirling all around. Some forty feet from where she was. The current was still powerful here, enough to make what she was doing dangerous. Dani traversed her way across the rocks, slick as ice from a few thousand years of water rushing over them, her rubber sandals seeking whatever traction she could find. If she slipped, the current would hurl her down the final leg of the Cradle. She’d be separated from her crew. Not to mention, it was dangerous. She had no helmet. This wasn’t exactly smart.
Once or twice she almost slipped and had to catch herself, whitewater lashing at her legs. The overturned kayak was maybe ten yards from her now, on its side in the swirling pool. No sign of movement inside. The current tugging at her from all around.
Without a rope or a partner, she knew what she was doing really wasn’t the smartest idea.
Finally, she made it across, straddling the eddy where the kayak had come to a stop.
“Can you hear me?” she called out. But whoever was inside wasn’t responding and hadn’t moved. She could see it was a guy, but his face was in the water, the current slashing all around. He wasn’t wearing a helmet, either. Everyone always thought they could take this river without a care. Dani bent down, positioning her legs on the rocks for traction, and flipped the body over on its side.
Her stomach dropped, just as precipitously as if she had plummeted over the falls herself. She stared for a moment, shocked and disbelieving, denial, then sorrow filling her inside.
She knew him.
She stared into the dead rider’s washed-out, colorless face.
She knew him well.