Outsiders Club Goes Rafting

While most students went home
over fall break for an extended weekend of relaxation, a group of eight members of the Outsiders Club took a trip to the New River Gorge in "wild and wonderful" West Virginia. Instead of enjoying mom’s home-cooked meals and having our laundry done, the eight of us anticipated the chilly waters of the New River, the class five rapids of the Gauley, and sleeping on the ground in twenty-degree temperatures.

Our adventure started Saturday morning with a trip to Wal-Mart for groceries.  We came to the conclusion that we would not be “roughing it” but rather “car-camping,” so we opted for hamburgers and hotdogs rather than ramen noodles and granola bars.  With a van full of food, we set off on the four-hour drive past Lynchburg, through the small town of Buena Vista, and finally through one-hundred plus miles of uncharted West Virginia back country.

As we reached US Route 19, we began to see signs of civilization; a truck stop, Tudor’s Biscuit World and low-and-behold, their very own Wal-Mart.  Continuing on our way, we finally reached the Gorge. On the tractor-trailer infested four-lane highway, the trees opened up, and we suddenly found ourselves driving 876 feet above the gorgeous New River.

Later that evening we checked into our sites and set up camp.  The facility was filled with other “weekend warriors” who had been rafting that Saturday and who were on their way out the next morning. With nothing on the agenda for that evening, we decided to venture down to Fayette Station on the New River.  The bridge at Fayette Station used to be the only crossway for vehicles over the New River.  Today it sits just up river and 850 feet below the new New River Gorge Bridge.

We found a good-sized rock on which to relax and enjoy ourselves.  A few of us even mustered the courage (stupidity) to jump into the mid-fifty degree water.  A photographer nearby told us that in a week, this place would be filled with thousands of people who gather every year to witness the events of Bridge Day.  Bridge Day in West Virginia might as well be a religious holiday.  It is the only day all year when it is not illegal to jump from the bridge.  Base jumpers, rappelers, and bungee jumpers spend years on a waiting list to get a chance to jump.  To think, we only missed it by a weekend.

The next morning we awoke to a layer of ice that had formed on the outside, and for a few guys, inside of our tents.  As we huddled around the propane stove for warmth, we all reconsidered what we were about to do. We knew it would be cold, but I don’t believe any of us had anticipated the twenty-degree temperatures of the West Virginia mountains.  We dressed in the warmest and most “waterproof” clothes we had thought to pack.  For me, that was no more than kakis, a long-sleeve shirt, and an old pair of tennis shoes.  We arrived at the rafting complex and got geared up.  A few guys gave in to reason and rented dry suits.  At this point, we were determined.  After a half hour bus ride out to Summersville Lake, we were finally ready to get in our raft.  We were greeted by our guides and a suspiciously attractive camera woman who kayaked ahead of the rafts and recorded our plummet through the rapids. Our guide was a geologist for coal companies who was a raft guide part time and a self-proclaimed “dirty old man” full time.

We hit the river ready for anything.  The first crash over the bow took all of our breaths away. For the remainder of our five hour trip down the Gauley River through class four and five rapids, it was one frigid drenching after another.  And to say that it was something you just got used to would be a lie.  We were, however, thawed out with a hot lunch served to us on the bank of the river at their property used for overnight river trips. There in the middle of nowhere was a buffet, hot showers, and even a hot tub!  After lunch we got back on the river for the major leg of the trip.  The rapids were intense and the downtime in between gave us all ample time to soak in the beauty of the uncultivated wilderness.

We got off the river about 4:30 and took another bone-chilling ride back to the complex in the old school bus they use to transport all their rafters.  Being soaking wet and riding in a drafty school bus whose heater was broken almost ruined my day.  However the driver had over-packed the cooler with courtesy drinks and allowed us to finish off the beers that weren’t claimed; I quickly forgot about the cold.

Arriving back at the complex and taking a hot shower made me feel like the whole trip was worth it.  We cleaned up and then met upstairs in their equivalent of a Tiger Inn where we got dinner and enjoyed the video of the day.  After all was said and done and 538 miles later, the eight of the Hampden-Sydney Outsiders returned safely to campus to enjoy what was left of our Fall Break.

November 2006