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and told them their first real rapid was coming up soon.
    “How big?” Sam asked.
    “Six, on a scale of one to ten,” said Mitchell, looking up from his guidebook.
    “Well, maybe more like four at this water level,” JT said. “But it’s definitely big enough. So put on your life jackets, and tighten everything down, and let’s go!”
    Jill fussed with the boys, making sure their life jackets were tight, their day bags clipped into place with the locking carabiners that hadcost five times what she expected at the adventure-gear store back in Salt Lake City. She tightened the chin straps on their hats. (She did
not
want Mark to know that she hadn’t packed extra hats.) Finally Abo had to tell her to quit checking on things and sit down herself. She obeyed, slightly embarrassed, and Abo pushed off, and they paddled down the river, three boats in a line: JT in front, Abo and his paddlers in the middle, and Dixie in the rear.
    It wasn’t long before the river itself changed. Up ahead, the glassy water dropped off abruptly; every so often a sunlit spray danced above the horizon.
    “Stop,” Abo commanded. “Listen,” and everybody fell silent. Sure enough, they could hear the hollow roar of the big water. Ahead of them, JT stood up on his seat to get a better view. His boat rocked a little. The current was rapidly picking up speed; JT waited until the very last minute, then dropped to his seat and quickly angled his boat to the left. Then the boat disappeared into the spray, and all you could see were a few flashes of blue as it bucked through the foam.
    Their own boat was now fast accelerating.
    “Feet in the stirrups, folks!” Abo yelled. “And pay attention! Sam! What’s it mean when I say ‘Hard Forward’?”
    “It means paddle really hard!” Sam yelled back.
    “That’s right! Forward!” Abo shouted, and they glided down into the tongue of the rapid, where the water formed a downstream V, dark and smooth and sinuous before exploding into a wall of chaotic white froth.
    “Hard forward!” shouted Abo, and Jill dug deep and pulled as hard as she could as they barged on through. She felt the boat tip first to one side, then to the other; water came splashing from all directions, and the paddlers lost their synchronicity and knocked each other’s paddles. A long plume of silver spray drenched Jill’s face and blinded her for a moment, causing her to gasp for air, and when she opened her eyes another plume was coming and this time she just ducked like a coward, screaming with frantic delight.
    Then, just as suddenly, it was over, and they were bobbing in thetailwaves. There were whoops and hollers, and at Abo’s direction they all raised their paddles high into a tent formation, then slapped the water with a cheer.
    Only then did Jill think to turn around and make sure her children were safe.
    She’d gotten drenched, but oddly, she wasn’t at all cold; within minutes the sun had dried her arms and legs, and she was grateful now not to have a shirt on because the sun felt so good. She looked at Mark and Mark looked at her, and they both laughed out loud, something they hadn’t done in years together, and she glanced back and witnessed a miracle, namely, that the boys weren’t fighting and in fact had wide horsey grins on their faces, and she would never have said this out loud but she thought: Didn’t I say you would love it? Now, aren’t you glad you’re here?
    Truly, she told herself. Keep your mouth shut.

8
Day One, Evening
Mile 16
    T hey camped that first night on a small beach sloping up to a sandy, rock-studded hillock that overlooked the river. To transfer the massive amount of gear out of the boats and onto the beach, JT had everyone form a fire line, with the guides in the boats unstrapping everything and handing it over, each bag, each box making its way from one set of outstretched hands to the next until the beach was littered with gear. Then, like speedy housewives, the guides whisked