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Bewilderment
Historical accounts referred to the cascade as
Bewilderment--not Bewilderment Falls--simply Bewilderment.
Legend has it that an early explorer, beset with hunger and fatigue,
stumbled into the hidden basin where the river plunged over an
escarpment. To survive he fed upon unknown plants and fungi that
grew in the misty defiles near the falls and drank from the plunge
pool. That night as he rested near the falls, a moonbow appeared in
the spindrift that bathed the chasm; a pale glow danced in the
bemisted light. Transfixed by the spectacle, he stood and slowly
spun round and round and round as he looked to the apogee of the
falls. Spellbound by the outrageous beauty and wildness of the
place, he remained there for eight days.... Or so goes one early
story of how the falls was named.
Ten years had passed since he and Daniel ventured to the
falls. That was the first time he'd seen them and he remembered
the wonder that filled him that day. After parking their truck where
an old logging road ended, they followed a faint trail that
paralleled the rushing river for miles. Using makeshift carriers
fashioned from old backpack frames, they hauled their boats and
gear on their backs. It was an arduous task, especially after the trail
vanished and they were left to bushwacking; it took them the better
part of two days. After reaching the falls, they unloaded their boats
and dumped the paddling gear plus a small rucksack of basic
climbing equipment on a flat boulder that rested at the base of the
scarp. As they gazed in awe at their surroundings, they realized
they stood in a realm so daunting--yet so magical--that it defied
explanation. When they turned their eyes upward to where white
plumes fired out from the heights, they thought they saw--pulsing
and wavering in the whiteness--the face of a dragon. Soon the
image became clearer and they knew that it was a dragon--their
dragon.
Now, as he lay back on the large boulder from which they
had staged many years before, head resting on his backpack, he
remembered how on that day Bewilderment rendered his complex
life down into an element of crystal clarity; his world of family,
friends, and career--those things apart from their epic
adventure--had temporarily ceased to be. He also thought about
what this sport--although paddling was of a greater importance
than mere sport--meant to him. Perhaps it was the escape it
provided from the hustle of life in the twentieth century and
certainly it was a mental sanctuary. But he dwelt not long
searching out the underlying reasons for his love of whitewater, for
his was more of an intuitive way of reasoning; he knew simply that
it appeased a strong, atavistic urge embedded deeply within his
very soul. A few kindred others, like Daniel, felt it, too.
" HEY, MAN! CAN WE HAVE THIS ROCK?" a voice
shouted over the mesmeric thunder of the falls. "Name's Joe Kyle
from Ad Extreme Productions," he continued, quickly extending a
hand. "We've got lots of folks involved in this shoot and our
window is small--maybe two hours--to get it all done while the
light is right. We've got to get Johnny K and his kayak to the
top--hired some climbers for that. This is a big deal, you know.
Mitsasushi Motors has a big fall promo-push planned for their new
SUV, the ATC--that stands for AquaTerraClassic. Man, we took
some primo footage coming in; the ATC absolutely busted that big
creek crossing and we slung mucho rock coming up that old road!
Jeeezus! That was some grade--and rough, too--but I know we got
at least two miles farther in; didn't have to walk as far with all this
equipment. Hey, that's kind of what the ATC is all about: getting
you closer into the heart of nature! The Guinness people have a
vested interest in this thing, too. We have a thirty-five meter
waterfall here, my man--contemplate that for a minute! Plus
there's beaucoups of smaller sponsors and that's why we've got to
catch this good light, so we can pick up their decals on Johnny K's
kayak and gear when we cut to slow-mo during his big dive!
'Course the guys shooting stills will get good shots with their
motor-driven telephoto SLR's; gotta have something for the slicks,
you know. So, now that you know where I'm coming from, you
can understand why we need your rock here, my man... THANKS
A MILLION!"
He arose and stepped back out of the way as the boulder
became crowded and a cacophony of conversations and the sight
of gearbags being emptied ended his reverie. He swung his
backpack to his shoulders then dropped to the well-worn trail
below, almost colliding with two men carrying a bright orange
kayak. Close behind them another individual walked, alone. He
passed silently by this trio and continued down the trail to where it
veered into the woods. There he stopped and turned, looking back
at the magnificent place that was so special. But the panorama was
filled with a marked dissonance as he watched the spectacle of
colored ants going about their tasks. The sight evoked the memory
of a Bible story from his boyhood--was it from Matthew?--where
the temple had been turned into nothing more than a cloister for
buyers, sellers, and moneychangers.
Continuing down the trail, he tried to make some sense of
it all. Was he being selfish, wanting to keep this magical--this
revered--place to himself and a few like-minded friends? Was he
an anachronism--a throwback to a time when a remarkable
experience was measured within ones own heart and to have been
allowed the experience at all was reward enough. Then perhaps it
was an aversion to the crass commercialism that seemed now to
invade many heretofore sacrosanct quarters--but who was he to
judge how a person pursued a livelihood? Could it be that there
was a new order dawning that he was unwilling--or unable--to
embrace?
As he walked down the twisting trail, tangled thoughts
filled his mind....
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