Home for the summer from BYU-I, he has decided that the acquisition of one new life-endangering skill a year is not enough. Since he did not become a snowboarding fatality on the beautiful slopes of Grand Targhee and Kelly Canyon this winter, he has decided that Kayaking the roaring rivers of Western Washington this summer could possibly pull it off. Never mind that he comes home from kayaking lessons on calm lakes scarred and bloody. Trivialities.
Let's take this past Saturday, for instance. He and his kayaking trainer take to the Snoqualmie River at near peak stage. His comments on the experience afterward? "Well, I spent more time in the water than in my kayak, and at one point, it looked like what we would call a 'yard sale.' Right BEFORE I hit the rapid, the edge of my kayak caught an eddy, flipped me over, and let's just say that me, my kayak and my paddle all went completely different directions." So he goes down feet first, tries to dodge boulders and rocks, and when he has a chance, tries to breathe as he takes on the rapids without his kayak realizing rather late in the experience that badly timed breaths equal mouthfuls of water. His trainer was able to chase down the runaway kayak, and Dallin was able to head off and recover his paddle.
My comments? Thank heavens for helmets, life jackets, full-body wet suits, experienced trainers and complete ignorance of what was happening on my part. Saturday while they were out on the river, I mentioned to Jim that I was hoping Dallin would make it home alive. Jim said he was hoping for a little more than just alive. I guess he's right; comatose and paralyzed wouldn't be that easy to deal with.
