River me timbers!

Scurvy. Moby Dick. The Bermuda Triangle. All have been the bane of wayfaring mariners over the years, but the deeps harbor another nautical horror that, even amongst the most hardened sailors, is only spoken about in frightened whispers: Buffalo Rapid.

Fixed at the heart of a gorge on the Flathead River below the bosom of Kerr Dam, the class four rapid is the largest (read: deadliest) in the state of Montana.

In what was most assuredly a poor business decision, the Lake County Leader sent its crew of three new writers — Jaren Haser, Emilie Richardson and I — on a brazen mission to tame Buffalo Rapid and its lethal brethren on a whitewater rafting outing with the Flathead Rafting Co. based in Polson.

All three Midwesterners by blood, the raging river waters were fraught with peril that we could barely comprehend. As we stood surveying the hellish torrents in which we would soon be immersed, it appeared that our likelihood of survival would rival that of those boating down the River Styx.

Scarcely audible above the din of the whitewater beyond, our guide voiced a desperate plea for two reckless souls to take on leadership roles at the helm of the raft.

Courage faltering for just a moment, Jaren and I answered the call by boldly stepping forward to assume the lead positions, knowing full well that the lives of our trusting crewmembers would be in our paddle-wielding hands.

Luckily for us, our guide, Cory Davis, brought a wealth of experience into the raft and heroically forged our motley crew into one cohesive unit. Captain Davis was tasked with guiding us along the seven- to eight-mile gauntlet of doom and destruction, the length of which was punctuated by five major rapids, all bearing names such as Pinball, The Ledge, and of course, Buffalo- fearsome monikers which were well-deserved.

Besides ordering when to paddle full steam ahead and when to rest to keep our strength (and our wits) about us, Cory provided fearless leadership from aft our vessel. He also contributed enlightening educational commentary regarding the history of Glacial Lake Missoula and other forces of nature that helped sculpt the terrain alongside the river.

Gallantly paddling in unison, our raft survived the first rapid and the second as well. Confidence growing upon passage of each successive trial, eventually the moment of judgment was upon us, as the voyage culminated in our approach to Buffalo Rapid- the fifth and final hurdle separating us from the safety of dry land.

Cory informed us that we had some options as we neared the grand finale. We could either delve straight into the “hole” formed by the ferocious rapid and run the risk of having the raft crunched up and capsized, or we could attempt to skirt along the edge of the vortex while trying to avoid being dashed upon the rocks.

We weighed our options as if we were Odysseus and his crew choosing between Scylla and Charybdis. Perhaps it was Cory’s adventurous spirit rubbing off on us, but after a suspenseful moment of careful consideration we answered with a full-throated cry of, “bull by the horns!”

Aiming for the heart of the beast, we propelled the raft forward with determined strokes. Should we perish, at least we could take solace in the fact that our dying blaze of glory would be documented for posterity by the Rafting Co. photographers perched atop a rock along the riverfront to witness the carnage.

With the angry roar of water building to a crescendo, we were soon sucked into the chaotic maelstrom at full speed.

Initially blown backward by the river’s might, our momentum allowed us to breach the frothing wall of water like a trireme piercing the hull of an enemy ship.

Gasping for air, we miraculously emerged on the other side to find all of our rafting companions alive and merry! Poseidon be praised!

So there you have it- a sailor’s tale of nine people paddling as one, conquering a godforsaken stretch of whitewater strewn with five major rapids and sustaining zero casualties in the process. I speak for the Leader’s entire editorial team when I say that we can’t wait to do it again.