“Did you notice the canyon walls on these switchbacks? Amazing, aren’t they?”
“Okay, okay. I’m just curious.”
“You know sometimes we are so preoccupied with what’s next that we miss spectacular moments on the journey. Look up that hill.”
Gabriel pointed across me to the mountainside. A couple of hundred feet up the canyon wall was a majestic bighorn sheep perched on a giant boulder, keeping watch over the canyon.
“Wow. How in the world did that thing get up there? That is steep!”
“It’s their hooves and sense of balance. They have these pads that grip the rock better than any climbing shoe. They can ascend to escape predators. Impressive animals.”
I learned my lesson. I would just drink in the ride through the canyon and keep watch for more stunning discoveries. I gave myself over to the wonder of it all. We saw two bald eagles gliding overhead and a rattlesnake crossing the road. The road climbed and dipped through the canyon, The River nearly always in view, sometimes through the towering trees below, sometimes thundering a few feet away.
After about a forty-five minute drive, he pulled off the road and we bounced down a rugged path into the woods. The path ended into a densely treed ridge. We could hear the white noise of the white water nearby.
Gabriel jumped out of the Jeep and grabbed his backpack from behind his seat. He moved like a twenty-year-old.
“I’m going to take you to three places today, Blake. Three places that mean a great deal to me. Sometimes what we need in our lives is a little bit of perspective. Whenever I visit these places, I remember what’s important.”
Gabriel seemed to know that I needed more than just a little adventure; I needed a change.
I followed Gabriel into the woods. We walked along a narrow trail for about five minutes before we encountered the water.
“How’s your balance?” Gabriel asked loudly over the white water’s hushed growl.
“Pretty good, I think.”
“Okay, stay close. It slopes down and it’s a little wet from the spray.” He grinned.
About ten feet over the white water, a fallen pine stretched out as a natural bridge to an island. When I got up close, it felt like a hundred feet up. The water cascading underneath gave the illusion that the ground was moving.
Gabriel took two steps out and bounced on it to make sure it was steady. He took one more step out over the water and then reached his arm back for me.
“I’m good,” I said, waving him on. I prided myself on my athletic prowess. He inched out farther, holding his arms out like a high-wire circus performer, keeping his balance. He went all the way across without even a bobble.
It was my turn. I glanced at Gabriel as he was setting his backpack down on the other side of The River. He shot me a thumbs-up. He shouted something at me, but it was difficult to hear over the powerful river flow.
“What?” I yelled.
He cupped his hands and said it again, but I couldn’t make it out.
I stepped out onto the log and pushed down to make sure of my footing. A few short steps and I was over the white water. I felt like I was flying as the water rushed underneath me. I looked up and smiled at Gabriel. He pointed to my feet. I took the next step and stumbled on a knot in the tree, and in the blink of an eye, I was dangling upside down like a sloth, hugging the tree for my life.
“Hold on, man!” I heard Gabriel yell. I could feel the mist of the water below on my neck as I struggled to get a grip. Before I knew it, he was out on the log just above me.
“Try to spin over on your belly!”
The moist algae made it very difficult to grip. I felt Gabriel grab the back of my jacket behind my shoulder. The power in his one arm was enough to pull me back up on the log and on my stomach. He started laughing.
“What are you laughing at!” I shouted with heightened urgency.
“The look on your face! Now, just crawl over on your belly.”
He backed himself all the way across as I followed like a scared kitten, gripping the wet log with all my might.
“Maybe you should have taken my arm after all, huh?”
I glared at him as I wiped off the algae and soggy bark that covered my chest.
He took me down over the backside of the small island through a patch of trees and to an opening where a stack of large river rocks stood, like a monument in the middle of the wild.
“Is this what you told me about?” I asked.
“Welcome to The Stones of Remembrance.”
I walked around to the front of the rocks and immediately looked to the bottom right corner. I knelt and scraped some of the dirt off the stone. I saw it with my own eyes. The symbol . . . the etching on the cornerstone he told me about. It was the symbol of The River. I ran my fingers over the grooves in the rock. A shiver went down my spine as I contemplated the history of this place.
“How long has this monument been here?”
“Jacob started the stacking at the time of my father’s death which was 1956 . . . so fifty-six years or so.”
I backed up and surveyed all the rocks that had been stacked. It was well over my head now, eight or nine feet at least.
Gabriel walked up and pointed to a large one in the middle of the formation.
“This is my ‘new beginnings’ stone.” He pointed to another. “This one I placed here when Rio went home. I’ve put more than thirty stones here over the years.”
Gabriel placed his hand on the monument, his head bowed in reverence.
In that moment, I felt my own sense of loss, searching for something to anchor my existence. I was reeling inside at the thought of my wife of more than fifteen years, and the mother of my children, in pain at my choices. I thought of my kids and how I’d chased everything in life but my relationship with them. I was lost. As the weight of my situation became heavier, Gabriel opened a small leather-bound book. He sat down and began to read.
“From The Journal, book three:
It is important to remember. Remember those who have loved you well. Remember that even though you have made mistakes, you are not a mistake. Remember that forgiveness is waiting. Remember to forgive. Remember that it’s never too late to love well. Remember that when you give yourself away, you never have need. Remember, The River is the center of all things, and as it flows, it carries with it new life.”
He closed the book and looked back at the wall.
“Before I could really move forward in my life, I had to remember to give thanks. I had to let go of some things. I needed to start the journey of forgiveness. I needed to ask for it, and I certainly needed to give it. I think of my father often and how he led a life of self-sacrifice to others, and ultimately exchanged his life for Jacob and the other kayaker. What could I hold on to? It’s not easy, but I find freedom every time I let go.”
My heart, my defenses were melting internally at Gabriel’s words.
“Come here for a second.” Gabriel gestured and walked to the tip of the island upstream covered with beautiful smooth stones. “Do you hear that?”
“It’s the river stones . . . like marbles . . . They are getting worked over by The River, aren’t they?” I said.
He held up a stunningly smooth stone the size of his palm. Its lavender, blue, and gray hues were laced in perfect circles. It looked like marble or granite.
“Every time I’m here, I stack a rough stone of remembrance, and I take a smooth stone from the water’s edge. It reminds me of how being in The River has shaped me. It’s making me a new man. My mistakes, my past are being tumbled into a new work of art.”
He walked back over to the monument and reached into his backpack. He handed me an antiqued leather book. It had the symbol stamped on the front.
“What is this?”
“It’s a river journal for you. You can start your own writings of what you hear The River say to you. It’s blank, ready for you to fill the pages.”
My heart lurched in my chest. “I don’t k
now what to say.”
I opened up the front cover and saw this inscription on the inside.
To my friend, Blake—When The River speaks, write it down. May these pages be filled with a life completely alive. For when you experience The River, you live!
Always in The River,
Gabriel Clarke
“Thank you so much, Gabriel.”
“You’re welcome. Before we go, I’d like you to do me a favor.”
“Sure . . . anything.”
“I want you to put a stone of remembrance on the monument. Before you do, I want you to write three things in that journal. First, I want you to write a message in the journal to your wife. Second, write one to your kids. Third, I want you to write a message to commemorate your stone of remembrance.”
Gabriel smiled like a gentle father, handed me a pen, and walked away.
I felt as though my soul was laid bare in this moment, and I hadn’t really told him the full story.
I sat down and opened the blank journal. I’ll never forget the feeling of the tears tumbling down my cheek and staining the page as I wrote.
Dear Sarah,
I’m not worthy of your love. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I hurt you. I was wrong. You don’t deserve this. My heart aches for you. I’m sorry for letting you down. I’m sorry for neglecting you and going my own way. I don’t even know why I did it, why I let my heart wander. I miss your smile. I miss laughing with you at the funny things the kids say. Nothing is right without you. Nothing. Please give me another chance. I’ll do whatever it takes. Whatever you want, to be with you again.
—Blake
Dear Jake, Lily, and Dylan,
I want you to know that I love you very much. I miss you. There’s a better way to live than what I’ve shown you. It’s not about what you have, but who you are. I haven’t said it very much, but I’m so proud of all of you. I want to spend more time with you in the coming days. Being your dad is the best thing in the world.
I love you all.
—Dad
I hereby lay this stone to remember this day, October 4, 2012, as a day of turning. Today I turn away from my empty, selfish ways, and I turn toward my family and those I’ve been given to love. I have been blessed beyond measure, and I vow to never take them for granted again. May this stone be a memorial to everything The River is showing me.
—Blake Caruthers
The rock I placed on the monument that day was heavy . . . a feather compared to my sorrow. Gabriel and I left The Stones of Remembrance, and I felt a glimmer of hope. Today I had exchanged a piece of the old me for the hope of what could be. She might not take me back . . . I knew that. I held on to hope.
Gabriel and I made our way across the tree bridge and back to the Jeep. We went back to the lodge for the evening, and he continued to share his journey with me before he took me to the second unforgettable place.
15
A Surprising Encounter
September 28, 1973—4:00 p.m. at the Lodge
Gabriel’s first season as a rafting guide came to a close in early September of ’73. The season proved to be rich with unforgettable times on the water, life-changing conversations with Ezra, and the love he and Tabitha shared running more deeply than ever.
The fall mountain air felt fresh and cold as Gabriel finished the last corner of the gear shed with wood stain. The camp had been closed for weeks now, and most of the seasonal team had gone back to their hometowns. Gabriel, Tabitha, Jacob, Sadie, and Ezra all lived at The River year-round.
“Dad’s up in the office. I’m going to go take a nap. There’re some leftovers in the kitchen from lunch.” Tabitha pressed a quick kiss on Gabriel’s scruffy cheek.
“Thanks. I think I’m going to go for a hike . . . maybe up to the Cathedral.”
“It’s going to be dark soon so be careful,” Tabitha said as she walked away.
Gabriel put away his paintbrush and stain can and went back to his cabin to get his backpack and supplies. He donned his army-green knit cap and gray wool turtleneck.
The crunching of his boots on the earth and the pulse of his exhale was all he could hear on the quiet canyon trail. The late-afternoon twilight made the canyon look a blue-gray tint. On his final few steps into the clearing, two little creatures scampered through his peripheral vision. He glanced over to see the little chipmunks scouring the forest floor for a few more nuts before winter. His mind raced back to his first big hike with his father. He smiled to himself as he reminisced softly.
“Nuts and Pea. I guess you guys never left, huh?”
They scurried back into the woods and peeked out from behind the giant firs.
He thought about riding his dad’s shoulders up into the woods that day. He remembered naming the scurrying chipmunks and the feel of his dad’s hair in his hands as he held on. He pictured the game of marbles overlooking The River and the last image of his father’s face glancing up at him before he went in after the kayaker . . . after Jacob.
Gabriel arrived at the first of two stops on his hike, the area of Splashfire, where his life changed forever. He slowly made his way to the ridge and placed his hand on the tree with The River symbol of Ama-Woya. He looked to the bottom of the thunderous falls where his father went into The River forever. In his heart, he knew he had begun to embrace the power of his father’s sacrifice saving Jacob. He watched the white-water mist rising from the great waterfall. A small break in the gray twilight let the last bit of the sun’s rays through, and a prism of light, a rainbow, shown beautifully against the backdrop of the canyon wall. As the thick mist melted into the air, he imagined the mist as the spirit of his father, John Clarke, rising up from the waters into the sky. Gabriel placed his hand on his heart, then on the symbol. Each time he visited the site, little by little, he felt the crushing weight of his grief and anger giving way to gratitude and peace. He picked up his backpack and headed back down the path. At the fork, he made the turn and ascended to the Cathedral of the Sun to visit his father . . . and Rio.
As Gabriel rounded the last bend in the path, he was startled to see a man sitting on the ground with his back to him, facing his dad’s gravesite. He wore a black knit cap on his head and a red jacket. The man startled and spun his head around as he heard Gabriel’s footsteps approach. Gabriel’s heart skipped a beat. It was Billy Fielding. His dark brow was furrowed and his eyes were tired and puffy. His dark beard was long.
Gabriel stopped in his tracks.
“How’s it going?” Gabriel said cautiously.
“I’ve been better,” Billy said calmly.
“It’s a cold one today,” Gabriel replied.
It occurred to Gabriel, due to Billy’s drunken state that day, he might not even remember him from that volatile encounter a few months ago.
“What brings you up here?” Gabriel asked.
“Paying my respects.” Billy stood up and dusted off his jeans.
Gabriel approached him slowly. They both stared down at Gabriel’s father’s grave.
“So did you know John Clarke?” Gabriel asked.
“Not really. I know he was a hero . . . a legend.”
“Do you come here often?”
“When I can. Did you know him?”
“Yes, but not for long. So you live close by?”
“Yeah. I have a place not too far from here back in the woods. It’s pretty much just me and The River,” Billy said as he perused the view over the water.
“What kind of work do you do?”
“I’m a handyman, I guess. I like to work with wood too. Used to be a white-water guide.”
“That’s what I do,” Gabriel said confidently.
“So you said you knew him, but not for long?”
“John Clarke is my father . . . was my father. I’m Gabriel Clarke.”
Billy looked at Gabriel as if he’d seen a ghost.
“I better be getting back,” Billy said nervously.
He slung his backpack on his shoulders and start
ed to walk away.
“Hey, wait,” Gabriel said quickly.
“Yeah?” Billy looked back over his shoulder.
“I’ve got some jerky in my pack. You want some?”
“I’m good, thanks anyway.” He turned and kept walking.
“Jacob said you were amazing on The River.”
Billy stopped. He turned around.
“Jacob who?”
“Jacob Fielding . . . your brother.”
“What makes you think I have a brother?”
“Jacob would really like to see you again. He told me you guys ran The River together for years.”
“He said that?”
“Yeah. Many times. He’s taught me a lot about The River.”
“I’m surprised you’ll have anything to do with him.” Billy walked back toward Gabriel with a questioning look.
“Why is that?”
Billy swallowed hard as he continued. “After what we did? We shouldn’t have been out there that day.”
Gabriel started to put it together. His mind’s eye flashed back. There were two kayakers that day. His focus had been solely on his relationship with Jacob.
“You were the other kayaker?”
Billy nodded.
“You were the one Dad was able to warn in time.” He recalled more. “You didn’t go over the falls. I remember. You gave Jacob CPR.”
“I gotta go.” Billy turned quickly.
“Hey, can we talk some more?”
“About what?”
“I would really like to remember more about that day. You’re the only other one who was there.”
Billy reluctantly came back, and the two men sat down on a fallen tree facing The River.
Gabriel spoke first.
“My last memory is Dad’s hand reaching out of the water, and then I saw you scrambling to get to Jacob, pulling him up on that rock and giving him CPR. What happened after that? I don’t remember much of anything until Kansas.”
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