I had a whole to-do list about what to do this past summer, but falling into a river wasn’t one of them.
My family and I were going to camp next to the Russian River with my best friend Peter and his family. The moment I saw the river, I knew I was destined to walk across it. But, as I looked closer, I could hear the rapids roaring and see the river infested with whitewater rafters.
“If this is as crowded tomorrow as it is today, we probably wouldn't be able to get across,” I murmured under my breath. All of a sudden, a voice screeches behind me, “Boo!” It wasn’t much, but it was enough for me to jump out of my skin. Then Peter starts roaring with laughter, almost enough to drown out the sound of the river. I have to admit, that was pretty funny.
By the time we had sat down for dinner, I had told Peter about my plan. At first, he wasn’t up for an adventure, which wasn’t like Peter...or maybe he wasn’t feeling well. After I convinced Peter, we scoured the river for the best place to cross.
By the time my dad hollered for us to come back, we had searched the river within a quarter-mile radius. While we ate, the sunset was in a brilliant mess of purple, orange, and gold. That night, it rained. It wasn’t the normal pitter, patter. It was more like a mysterious mist that was illuminating the sky. Later on, I could hear the big cats growling off in the distance...or maybe it was Peter’s stomach. Slowly but surely, I fell asleep.
The next day, the river was roaring louder than Peter’s stomach. Overnight, the Russian River turned into the “Rushin’ River”. It was time for our adventure. We slipped on our swimsuits. As we descended into the cold water, my mood started to change from excited to panicked. I survived the first lap unscathed, but Peter barely found his feet. The moment we stepped out of the water, all the blood drained away from Peter’s face.
I followed his line of sight, and couldn’t seem to find what was so terrifying. As my eyes adjusted, I too felt scared. On a plateau was a mountain lion almost invisible to the human eye. Its fur was the same sandy brown as the dry grass behind it. We were in an impossible situation. If we moved, the mountain lion could pounce on us, or if we stood still, the mountain lion could also pounce on us.
That was when all hell broke loose. We both screamed at the same time and ran into the water. During the process, we slipped on a rock and fell. If the ground had been level we would’ve made it across with no problem. But, then we wouldn’t have a story to tell.
What really happened was we slipped and the ground dropped beneath us. Now that I look behind on the situation, the river bed must’ve had a ditch on the bottom. So, Peter grabbed on to a rock and heaved me up by my ankle.
We hiked back reflecting on what had just happened and I couldn’t help but look back at the mountain lion. He was just standing there glaring at us. I am sure he wanted to kill us but for some strange reason, he didn’t. As I look back on it now, I thank the mountain lion for sparing us.
