The raft drifted downriver over the course of the next hour without any concerns, comfortably following the natural course of the river, before reaching the first set of dangerous rapids. Normally only shallow ripples, the spring runoff meant that the section was now rated more like a class III or IV set of rapids.
Sam’s eyes darted between the upcoming rapids and Ben. “What do you think?”
Ben sighed. “I don’t think we have a choice. Let’s just ride it out.”
Sam shrugged. “All right, let’s do it.”
The raft dipped over the first cataract, dropping nearly eight feet in a swift movement. Sam shifted his weight to the back, as the bow punched through the naturally forming recirculating and trapping current known as a hydraulic.
White water washed into the boat.
Sam and Ben hit their paddles hard, trying to gain enough forward momentum to break the current’s hold on them.
Up ahead they narrowly missed a large boulder, before dropping off the side of the next cataract. This time, the current caught the large raft, immediately sending it sideways.
The inflatable started to lift on the left side.
“High side!” Sam shouted, as he threw his weight down on the lifting section of the boat.
“I’m on it!” Ben replied.
Ben reacted fast, shifting his body weight so that he was almost entirely out of the raft. The boat started to turn in a strange spiral motion, until the stern caught the main current and the raft shot out of the hydraulic.
They drifted down another set of shallow drops, fighting the current and washing machine effect of the turbid waters for another twenty minutes before the river settled into a more docile calm.
Sam caught his breath and assessed the boat. It had held up well without any puncture or damage. Their cargo, stored in water tight containers, and secured to the raft by rope, were all over the place — some not even inside anymore.
He pulled them inside.
Ben glanced at him. “Thanks. We don’t have much, but it’s nice to keep what we do have.”
“Agreed.”
Sam settled into the raft, stretching out, as the river calmed. He studied the deciduous forest that lined the Shenandoah River. There was chestnut oak, red oak, and tulip poplar, intermingled with spruce-fir. A diverse array of wildflowers blossomed throughout the shallow scrubs and green grasses.
As they drifted farther downriver, Sam gazed upon the seemingly countless ferns and scrub species found beneath the trees. There were multicolored azaleas and lady slipper orchids. Purple-pink Eastern Redbud blooms and bright green buds filled the landscape set upon the backdrop of mountain ranges.
A pair of baby black bears foraged on blueberries on the river’s bank, while their mother kept a guarded watch. Her eyes met Sam’s with casual indifference. It obviously wasn’t the first time she’d spotted a raft drifting lazily down the river.
A military helicopter passed overhead. Sam watched it for a minute, before it banked to the east and continued onward. The pilot was clearly searching for something — most likely them.
Ben asked, “What if they start to search the river?”
“Then we hide the raft, and find somewhere to lie low until they pass. They’ll be searching in a series of grids. Once they finish their fly overs they’ll move on to the next zone.” Sam ran his eyes across the dense bank of the river as it met the narrowing rocky valley; they were quickly losing hiding places. “Isn’t there some massive limestone cavern somewhere here? Maybe we can hide out in there for a while.”
“Yeah, a town called Grottoes. Home of the Grand Cavern, America’s oldest show cave, open to visitors since 1806. I visited it once as a kid. The cave was used by the Confederate and Union soldiers to hide during the Civil War.”
Sam nodded. “That sounds good. We can use that if we need to lay low for a while.”
“No, we can’t.”
“Why not?”
Ben shook his head emphatically. “It’s about fifty miles south of here, upriver.”
“All right, then we’ll just have to make sure we’re gone by the time they start their search of the river.”
His eyes swept the Shenandoah Valley. Surrounded by ancient mountains, the Shenandoah River cut a gentle and incredibly flat valley into the landscape. Its lush pastoral scenes were framed by a vibrant deciduous forest growing on the hills.
Sam’s mind wandered to its history. However peaceful it may now appear, the history of the Shenandoah Valley Civil War tells of a time when sacrifice was the currency that bought freedom. Riddled with old battlefields and Civil War cemeteries, the valley had earned the peace and harmony of the present day.
The rocky valley narrowed as the next set of rapids emerged.
A quick glance at the map they’d taken from the summer camp, showed them aptly named, Bull’s Tail, the Shenandoah’s mile-long Staircase, Mad Dog, White Horse, Hesitation Ledge, and Roller Coaster.
The raft rode these at speed.
With the higher water levels of the spring runoff, the rapids at this section were less harsh than earlier along the river. The massive torrent worked to speed up their progress rather than hinder it for once.
At the bottom of the final set of rapids, Sam spotted a series of blue herons, ospreys, and bald eagles feasting on the abundant trout, discombobulated by their navigation of the rapids.
As the water slowed, Sam and Ben continued to paddle downstream until the river widened into the confluence of the Shenandoah and Potomac rivers at the tripoint of Virginia, West Virginia, and Maryland.
They passed the Harpers Ferry National Historical Park and a sign that noted that this was the view Thomas Jefferson claimed was “worth a trip across the Atlantic.”
The raft drifted farther along and a few paddle strokes set them alongside a jetty. Sam and Ben opened their dry bags, trading their wetsuits, life jackets, and helmets for their clothes and shoes.
Ben glanced at the raft, its presence conspicuous as the first one for the season. “What do you want to do with this?”
Sam spoke without hesitation. “Push it back into the river. Maybe we’ll get lucky and someone will find it at Knoxville or even farther along the Potomac and assume we got off there.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Ben opened his wallet. “I have thirty-five dollars in cash, what do you have?”
Sam opened his wallet, licked his lips and frowned. “I have a fifty.”
“That’s it?” Ben looked at him through slightly narrowed eyes. “I thought you were the rich son of a shipping mogul?”
“Sure, but this is the new century. No one carries cash anymore.”
“Great. So, we have eighty-five dollars to get from here to North Dakota. Maybe we should skip the railway and just start hitch-hiking from here?”
“Nah, that’s all right,” Sam said, holding his hand out. “Hand me what you’ve got. Eighty-five will probably do for what we want, anyway.”
“Really?”
“Sure. Hand over the cash.”
Ben handed him the cash, his jaw set firm, the lines deepening beneath his eyes.
Sam took the cash, without bothering to put any of it into his wallet. “Thanks. I’ll be back in a second.”
“Where are you going?”
“That general store over there.”
Ben asked, “What are you going to buy?”
“A cell phone.”
“Really?” Ben’s eyes flashed. “We have eighty-five dollars to get us from here to North Dakota and you want to spend it on a cell phone?”
Sam smiled. “Yeah, why not?”
Ben sighed. “All right. You want me to come?”
“No. That will only make it more likely someone will recognize us later when the FBI starts to show our faces everywhere. You can wait here. Actually, better yet, head over to the train station, and find out what it costs to take a train to the next stop.”