Rafters find themselves almost missing the instructions of the river guide because they're overtaken by the scenery beyond the banks of the river purple lupines, golden poppies and infinite arrangements of flowers duplicating the colors of a rainbow. Pulling into the sandy beach, the rafters dismount their rubbery rides and become land lovers once again. There are kiwis, watermelon, Asian pears, and more desserts than a child would dream of. At lunch's end, and after a short nap or afternoon swim back to the river dance, swirling and twirling with the majestic white water. Rapid after rapid, not once does any mind linger to the deadlines of work assignments, nor the treacherous city freeway rush hours.
Minds are at peace, reflecting on all that has been encountered on the river.
Rafters relax, floating along and enjoying the alternating exchange of the shade from a cliff and the hot sun warming and tanning their skin. From seemingly nowhere, bubbling, churning water rumbled in the near distance. All of a sudden, the currents increase and the rafts are quickly pulled by the merciless hydraulics of the river, as if they had been hooked onto by a high-powered winch. The river has taken control. As the river quickly drops away, the rafters are suddenly struck by monstrous walls of chilling, foaming white water that roars in their faces like a beast about to devour their very existence.