Meanwhile the rest of the crew piled into the great white beast and drove in to Jackson Hole to gear up for rafting down a white water stretch of the Snake River. We all donned Goretex jackets to keep warm, and perused the gift shop speculating about how the day would unfold until bus boarding time. The bus proved to be very temperamental but our hippy bus driver never seemed sufficiently inconvenienced or bothered to stop eating as he stubbornly fought to keep it running. When we finally pulled into the parking lot, he grabbed his fly fishing rod and disappeared for a couple hours. I guess the job has its perks.
They strapped us into life preservers and winched them down impossibly tight. We knew the water would be cold before we even got off the bus, but the snowmelt was shockingly cold as we waded into the water to launch the boat. We endured the mandatory safety lecture which instructed us how to sit in a boat and not fall out, taught us that the long skinny things with a wide ends are called paddles, and enlightened us with the revelation that you can drown if you stay under water for a long while, further pointing out that the Snake river is composed mostly of water and very large boulders which are also dangerous. Who knew? There actually was some meaningful instruction but there's no fun in recounting that.We re-situated ourselves to equally distribute weight and left handed paddlers as necessary, learned about our guide's commands, and were on our way. Matthew and I were stationed in the front with our "boonie hats" cinched down tight and were challenged to synchronize our strokes which sets the tone for the group and steers the raft. That position also insures YOU will get the wettest and coldest, assuming everyone stays in the boat. The veteran of a multi-day whitewater trip back when he was in his 20's, Papa revealed his wisdom and claimed a position behind us, essentially using us as human shields.
The record high winter snowfall followed by record high summer temperatures raised the river to unprecedented depths, burying familiar obstacles, rising to meet others, and creating new ones with landslides. We worked well as a team, paddling in relative unison to our guide's commands. Our abilities improved tremendously as we screamed happily and were jostled and splashed through rapids with creative names like "Lunch Counter" (eats your lunch), "Big Kahuna", etc.Eventually we came to a calmer portion of the river and were invited to go for a swim. Sometimes you know something is foolish, but you have to do it anyway since you have so few opportunities to make such a mistake (and it's fun to reflect upon later). The water was absolutely frigid and numbed us instantly as we alternated screams of shock and laughter. Despite being a calm portion of the river, it was deceptively powerful, easily sweeping me away from the group. I thought nothing of the separation until I tried to swim back to the raft and realized it took real work to make any progress. By the time I reached the side I was completely chilled and realized I couldn't climb aboard without help, fortunately Phillip grabbed me by the shoulders and effortlessly hauled me aboard. Heather was unable to pull herself back on board either so Papa came to the rescue. Unfortunately pulling her up by her life jacket only served to pull up the jacket, not her. With the life jacket above her face, she was laughing too hard to do much more, but was finally able to rejoin the group.
We dried out quickly and floated and paddled downriver through the stronger rapids. As we gained confidence we even opted to navigate one while doing 360 degree spins that inundated us with chilling spray. Through it all we thoroughly enjoyed the scenery, the smell of clean fresh air, the invigorating cold water, and the joy of family/crew camaraderie. 
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