“Ford. FORD! Hey, you paying attention?” asked Mr. Stevens, fully knowing what was going on with the goofing around. He was adjusting the lifejacket and helmet for Sam, while he buckled his own. He carried with them the near identical waterproof bag, and the larger oar to steer from the rear of the raft.
Ford knew the tone of voice and what his Dad was getting at. “Yes, Dad. Sorry.”
Wu was just as guilty, but didn’t say anything. He glanced over at his raft, seeing the location in the front where to sit, and held his oar like Xi demonstrated. “Like this, Ford?” whispered Wu, holding the oar like sword and kidding. He quickly then held it properly.
They got ready to launch on the river, as the water was smooth, the wind calm, and the sun was bright and keeping them warm. Wu was easing into the idea of the water, checking out the river from the shore more often now. It did look stunning, and the scenery was indeed breath taking. The view of the far shoreline, along with the greenery of the tall trees and snowcapped mountains in the distance, was gorgeous.
There were still butterflies in Wu’s stomach, especially after seeing the rapids photos in the gift shop, but he did not demonstrate any real anxiety in front of Ford. Especially in front of their new friend, Gretchen, the German beauty.
“Pull the front of your raft into the water using the rope, and have the first passenger get in. Then, the second passenger can get in once you are farther along in the water,” shared Xi, guiding his flock.
The Stevens family had all entered the water, then the Germans. Xi was off shore now and all of the orange rafts were waterborne and following. The Germans had a four person raft, with Xi riding in the rear, acting as the sternman, steering the vessel.
“This is really tremendous, Wu. Take a look around. Awesome,” said Ford, looking around at the landscape.
“It is. Look over there at that cliff. I can see those hawks flying in and out of their nest. Over on the left. That cliff over there comes right up to the river, then goes straight up toward the tree line,” said Wu, nodding in agreement. “Maybe they get jumpers for swimming?”
Peaceful and quiet, each raft was developing a rhythm with their paddling. They were able to coast down the river at times with the ease of the current, while other times they had to paddle pretty good to get some speed. Of course, Ford took the opportunity to splash both his siblings with water, and Marion was able to get everyone wet.
All was not well with Wu, though, as he continued to think about being so far out on the water and away from the shoreline. He felt alone, afraid, and was in a dark place. It was not a good feeling for him, and he felt like something life-changing was about to happen. His sixth sense was talking to him.
They were only about half an hour into the trip when a thunderous motorboat engine behind them was heard, getting louder as each second passed. The sound of the engines made it seem like the boaters were traveling at high speed, and it was getting loud enough to make Mr. Stevens turn his head around. Ford and Wu also turned their heads, as Ford wondered how a boat with a motor could make it through the shallow water and rocks in the low parts of the river.
The entire raft party was able to stop paddling and turn themselves to face upstream. The noise was becoming louder than any boat they had heard before because of the echoes of the steep canyon walls. The sounds were amplified due to the terrain they were currently in.
“Look at that! COOL!” shrieked Ford, pointing his finger to where the water met the sky behind them. Flying just above the water and inside the canyon walls were multiple Chenjang J-11 fighter jets, the Chinese version of the Russian Su-27.
“Look at their speed!” Wu yelled, as the roar was thundering and loud, and getting louder as the lead fighter passed over them.
“This is very impressive!” yelled someone from the German raft.
“Ford, take a look at the rest of the formation. There are a bunch of them in a line. The ones following in the back!” Wu pointed out.
The fourth-generation J-11 fighter jet, known in NATO counties as a Flanker B+, was a single-seat, twin-engine jet. Powerful, fast, and deadly, it most definitely caught the eye of the rafting party. It reminded Ford of the U.S. Navy Blue Angels’ F/A-18 Hornet plastic model that he and his Dad built when Ford was a kid.
“You can see the pilots inside!” yelled Mr. Stevens from his raft to the others.
Wu and Ford looked at each other and didn’t say anything, but nodded with smirks on their faces. It was as each boy was transmitting a silent message that they were in love with the idea of flying. To be in the cockpit, flying on a beautiful day like this, was not a job, but a calling.
“This is cooler than shit, Dude,” Ford said to Wu.
The first gray jet screamed overhead no higher than 100 feet above the water, with such thunder that the younger Stevens kids were startled. The twin tails of the jet was all that was seen now, as the pilot was able to maneuver the aircraft to follow along the natural curves of the river. Ahead of the rafting party upstream, the river curved to the left, to the northwest. So did the jet, rolling on its side to make the tight turn.
“I am infatuated by these jets. This is the coolest freaking thing I’ve ever seen. The roar of those engines are making my body vibrate. Goose bumps,” Wu replied.
Ford shook his head with full confidence and convection. “This is it, Dude. I still feel the same way. This is what I want to do with my life, Wu. When I grow up, I’m going to be a military pilot. And so are you. This is the coolest. We’re going to fly.”
The second Chinese fighter jet was already in trail of the first one. Just about the same low altitude, but offset to the right from the first, it flew closer to the shore and was still very visible. He, too, came screaming over at about 80 feet, banking his wings from side to side.
“Hey, he’s waving at us. That’s what jets do when they say hello,” Mr. Stevens yelled over to Ford and Wu from his raft nearby.
The second jet followed the first one, making the turn in the river.
From the time they spotted the jets to present could not have been more than a minute, but since the stronger current had them traveling downstream at a pretty good pace, the rafts traveled a considerable distance. Ford glanced over at Xi to make sure he was paying attention to the river, and he was.
The third jet, and what looked to be the last, was directly aiming at them in the rafts. Or, at least it appeared to be.
“Wonder what this guy is going to do?” said Wu.
As the last jet came over the rafts, the pilot pulled back the aircraft in a sharp, upward maneuver that the boys had only seen in movies. The pilot moved his left hand forward on the throttles, moving it to afterburner, while pulling back his stick with his right hand to increase the pitch to near 85 degrees nose up. Both of the engine exhaust nozzles tightened and glowed orange, and a white mist started aggressively flowing off each of the aircraft wings. The mist was almost dancing, as the pilot was going straight up, vertical.
The boys laughed with delight, and Ford nearly had a tear in his eye. “Oh my, God! Look at him go! Wu, that’s us buddy!”
All three jets had departed the river area and the raft party started to settle down. As they glowed in the impromptu airshow and looked ahead on the river, they could see two enormous, white, rectangular billboard-like signs posted on the river bank. They were painted with red lettering, and looked like the Warning Signs they saw at the raft office. It was written in Chinese characters, in addition to English.