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CHATTOOGA CHRONICLES
We call it Raven Rock. It’s not that anyone from this day has actually seen a
raven there, although I can picture one in a not too distant past hovering on the thermals
high above the sheer gneiss face. I can even hear its guttural call echoing off the cliff
wall and up the gorge until it becomes lost within the roar of the river. I’ve run this river
for a quarter century now and still sometimes catch myself looking skyward . . . and
wishing.
We ran the usual line at Raven Chute, dropping into the roller on the far left
then
funneling across the river into the aerated eddy near the right shore. As I paddled to the
rock shelf that slides from the woods into the river, I waved for Tim and Todd to follow.
We gingerly exited our boats and left them precariously balanced on the rock. As we
stood there the magic and majesty of the place began to sink in . . . .
“Let me take you to a place you’ve never been,” I said. “ We’ll have to swim
across the swift current to the edge of the ledge . . . see it there? Then swim behind that
curtain of water and under the rock overhang--you can breathe back there; trust me.
Then look down. You’ll see a glow--a strange misplaced phosphorescence--and that’s
where we’re going.”
Although they were noticeably quiet and looked puzzled, I knew that these two
were ready and willing to attempt anything I could put forth. I then threw them a curve:
“Take off your life jackets,”
I plainly stated.
“ What! . . . why?” questioned Todd.
“ It’ll be eas-- ”
Tim interrupted, “ Heck, Todd, you know how Ken gets sometimes. It’s
symbolic! You see, the life jacket represents safety--a tie to our comfortable, air
breathing, terrestrial world. To take it off means that we’re willing to leave all that
behind and embark upon a fantastic journey into another realm. ”
“It’ll be easier-- ”
Tim continued, “Todd, do you know about the July fly? It lives most of its life
underground as a larvae--fifteen or twenty years in fact--then one day it climbs a tree,
sheds its old protective shell and sprouts wings. It then spends its summer soaring and
singing! You see, taking off our life jackets will be like that ol’ July fly shedding its
shell.” As he gave a furtive glance my way, the expression on his face seemed to ask,
Right?
“ And it’ll be easier to swim across the swift current and dive under the ledge,” I added.
I shallow-dived into the river and swam across to the ledge. Tim followed and
moments later we sat in a small, sprayfilled shelter behind the curtain of water that
poured from above. With a raised voice I told him, “Take a deep breath, keep your eyes
open, seek and then follow the light . . . tell Todd.”
I submerged.
It’s a short but thrilling journey down to the luminous opening in the rock. I began
with the company of thousands of tiny bubbles that turned back once they knew that their
charge was safely off and could find his own way. I then swam into a strange green glow
framed by the darkness of stone. As I pulled myself through, an even brighter light from
above met my eyes and I swam toward it. I surfaced and crawled up the small sloping
sand bar that floored the bottom of a large pothole. SHEEW!!! Tim mistily exhaled as he
broke the surface behind me. A few seconds later Todd followed. For a few minutes we
sat there shoulder to shoulder and looked at our ceiling--a bright blue circle. As
a wispy white cloud floated by, Todd said, “It reminds me of how the earth looks from
the moon--a big blue ball wrapped in swirls of clouds.” I then shared, “It makes me
realize that even though our sight--our perception of things--might be restricted by a
rim or edge, we must somehow learn to see beyond that boundary. There’s just so much
more out there! And do you know the simple beauty of it all? We don’t even have to be
able to physically see beyond the rim, only to be able to think beyond the rim.” A
silence followed. Todd and I knew that it was Tim’s turn to comment. After a few
moments of thought Tim spoke, “I see a reflection.”
“A reflection?” we questioned.
“Yes, I see a reflection.
I see . . . THREE FROGS IN A WELL!”
With that, Todd and I climbed from the pothole and into the bright sun that
bathed the gorge. We slid down the rock and into the river where we swam to our boats.
Tim followed. As we climbed the rocky shelf to our waiting boats, I quietly said to
Todd, “ Tim’s a hoot, isn’t he. Man, for a moment we were drifting up and out of that
pothole and that rascal grabbed us by the ankles and pulled us back to earth.”
“Hey Todd,” Tim said as he crawled up the rock behind us. “How do you know
what the earth looks like from the moon?”
“Zipppppp” . . . I put on my life jacket. The Five Falls weren’t far away.
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