{"id":16159,"date":"2018-05-17T10:00:34","date_gmt":"2018-05-17T17:00:34","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/community.nrs.com\/?p=16159"},"modified":"2018-05-08T09:15:08","modified_gmt":"2018-05-08T16:15:08","slug":"the-hero-factory","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/community.nrs.com\/duct-tape\/2018\/05\/17\/the-hero-factory\/","title":{"rendered":"The Hero Factory"},"content":{"rendered":"

When I started guiding for Whitewater Challengers on the Black River in Watertown, New York, I thought by signing up for a fun summer job I was taking my first step toward \u201cliving the dream,\u201d whatever that meant. In many ways I was. What I didn\u2019t realize was that I was also getting my first glimpse into the windows of a Hero Factory.<\/p>\n

By many standards, a hero is a person who knowingly risks their lives in an attempt to save another person. To the average rafting customer, that likely makes any given guide a hero. And any guide worth his or her salt knows that to contradict this sentiment could mean losing a decimal point off their tip, or even worse, a chance at a date. Privately though, we know we\u2019re just doing our jobs, and more often than not, no one\u2019s life was ever actually in danger. Still, these people who spend their summers living in tents and vans down by the river are heroes in my book, and not just because they push the boundaries of traditional cultural definitions of success (a heroic effort in itself, although for a different reason).<\/p>\n

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Guide training on the Black River<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

Dozens of my friends have responded to life-threatening situations while off the clock, whether on the river or off. Sometimes the victim is a close friend on a familiar run, others it\u2019s a complete stranger far from home.<\/p>\n

I remember one time on the Upper Gauley I was paddling with a group of riverboarders just downstream from Initiation when someone noticed a boat wash into the infamous sieve near the center of the river. Even though it was unclear if a paddler was trapped with the boat or not, there was no hesitation; we all knew the lethal potential of the situation and scrambled to shore to help. I distinctly remember trying to assess the situation, highlighting points of access and anchor opportunities as I sprinted up the bank.<\/p>\n

We quickly established a connection but struggled to effectively extract the pinned paddler until my mind flashed to foot entrapment drills in guide training. Since the victim had an air pocket and was able to hear us, we could take the time to build two bomber anchors and use a reverse V-lower to extract him. We had the victim out and onshore in less than a minute once we established a tag-line.<\/p>\n

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Riverboarders on the Upper Gauley just before encountering an entrapped boater.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

Another time, I was undoing shuttle along the Tumwater section of the Wenatchee River in Washington when I arrived at the takeout to find a totaled car and a good friend assisting the elderly woman who had been driving it. While I was hitchhiking back to the put-in, my friend watched as this woman lost control of her vehicle, crashed into the cliffs lining the road, and rolled her car multiple times.<\/p>\n

He was able to help keep the woman calm, assess some of her injuries, and direct traffic to prevent another accident from occurring before the paramedics came. It felt surreal to return to the place I had been high fiving my friend for a successful run less than twenty minutes prior, only to find the same friend in the midst of a rescue surrounded by smashed glass and twisted metal.<\/p>\n

Regardless if we\u2019re on or off the water, the response is always the same: immediate development of a plan, calling for assistance if possible, and doing everything humanly possible to perform a successful rescue. Guides don\u2019t think about whether<\/em> they should respond or not. Guides think about how <\/em>they can make a successful rescue.<\/p>\n