Lying flat on my back examining the exquisitely blue sky, I felt the warm sun beginning to dry the dampness of my clothes. I couldn't imagine wanting to be any other place. The sweet fragrance of pine and wild strawberries brought back memories from the past.

I propped myself up on one elbow to get a better view of a family of ducks skirting along the water's edge. Down river I saw we were approaching another series of rapids and my husband, Ed, was already positioning the raft to pass down the center of the large rolling waves. Jolene, relaxing on the dry box in front, sat up and braced her legs against the side of the raft. She and her husband, Larry had traveled from Boise to float the Rogue with us and our friends. Larry was riding in Tim's raft to give the three of us more room. I scooted off my spot on the cooler and settled myself on the seat next to Jolene .

"Here we go!" she laughed, as the boat plunged into the first trough and slapped into the oncoming wave. We both squealed when the cold water splashed over the sides and drenched us again.

Sorry," Ed called, "I'll do better with the next one." He dipped the oars at the bottom of the next trough and gave a powerful back stroke. The nose of the boat rose rapidly to the top of the next wave. The water rolled harmlessly over the sides and drained through the floor of the raft. I marveled at my husband's skill, and also at the capabilities of our new self-baling raft.

This was the first time we had floated the Rogue River Canyon in a raft rather than a drift boat. The drift boat kept us drier and was easier to maneuver, but it couldn't carry the amount of gear as our new raft.

We bobbed over the last standing waves and dropped into smoother water. I could see ahead the river narrowed and disappeared between towering rock walls. This would be Mule Creek Canyon, where the river was virtually turned on its

side to accommodate the narrow canyon. The welling turbulence through this section is so strong it has driven our drift boat against the wall on more than one occasion. I was waiting for Ed to give his traditional white water speech for Jolene's benefit, and I wasn't disappointed.

"As we go down into the canyon here, I want you girls to remember to keep your hands inside the boat.. We may get slammed against the wall. If you get lodged on a rock, don't forget to high -side the boat and if for some reason you end up in the water, don't try to swim, just let the current carry you down river; feet first. Are your life jackets nice and snug?"

I always felt a little apprehensive as we entered this section of the river. Even long time rafters overturn their boats here. We checked our jackets and made sure all our gear was strapped down. Ed pulled the raft into the current and we slipped between the two huge boulders nicknamed the "Jaws" that marked the entrance to Mule Creek Canyon.

The steep canyon walls closed in and the churning water beneath us carried the raft perilously close to the right wall. Ed instinctively pulled in his oar, and swung us around with a deep pull from the opposite oar. In center stream again, we passed through the "Narrows" nose first and over the boiling cauldron known as "Coffee Pot" .

I saw Tim up ahead rowing hard to gain the correct position before entering the rock garden known as "Blossom Bar". Giant boulders punctuated the river, here with water swirling and churning between them. More rocks just under the surface created huge rolling waves. The untamed force of the river made me catch my breath. I took a firm grasp on the frame of the raft.

"Hold on, Jolene!" I yelled.

The current swept us rapidly into the center of the river, funneling us toward the first half submerged boulder. Ed began a steady back stroke. The rock loomed larger. We were going to hit it! The nose of the raft was thrown high on impact, water poured over the side. A huge wave washed over me, and I found myself falling backwards into the river. Raging torrents of water pounded over my head. I fought a rising sense of panic as I struggled to the surface.The raft, no longer against the rock, had been carried several feet down river. A wave slammed me back down, filling my nose and mouth with water. I came up coughing and very frightened. I wasn't going to make it back to the raft. I was on my own! Downstream, I saw a monstrous rock directly in my path. I imagined the current crushing me against it. My feeble kicks and weak strokes seemed powerless against the force of the water. Amazingly, the water piling against the rock acted like a cushion and propelled me off to the side.

I relaxed a little and concentrated on getting to the bottom of the rapid in one piece. Remembering my husband's advice, I pulled my legs out in front of me and bobbed up and down like a cork, riding high on a wave and then sinking deep into it's trough.

The worst of the rapids seemed to be behind me. I saw Larry standing on a the bank.

"Are you ok?" he mouthed.

I bravely gave him the thumbs up sign. Down below I saw Tim working his way slowly back into midstream to intercept me. My fear left me as I reached up to grab his safety line and gave him a smile of thanks.

"Great job getting down the river, Linda. Ed made it through with one oar! They are around the bend waiting for us."