I’m in a daze, whether from my headache and lack of sleep or some emotional roller coaster I’m not sure.  Does it matter which?

I had my first actual BES call this morning to recover the body of a 17 year old kid who was climbing on some rocks above S. Boulder Creek last night. It was exhilarating and shocking at the same time.  At first, I was so excited to be out on a real call that nothing seamed real.  I smiled and joked with the other rescuers about life, the crazyness of the swiftwater we were about to search, the news cameras, and helicopter surveying the scene.  We were jovial, and in high spirits.

During the pre-search briefing my spirits choked a bit when I realized the kid had fallen from the very same rocks I had been climbing on 2 years ago with Sherry.  It started to hit closer still when I saw that we would be searching the exact white water section Holden and I had talked about running last Sunday in kayaks.

The search and recovery went very well.  The body was found in about a half hour 100yard or so down stream of where he had fallen.  It was lodged under a partially submerged tree in the middle of what I would easily rate as a Class V+ rapid at that water level.

Alpine Rescue rigged up a rope and cable system to get a harnessed rescuer out the center of the rapids.  Our chief ran the water operation, and I was “in charge” of water group A.  It felt great to be valued as a major part of a team after only being part of the rescue squad for a short time.  I performed well, the operation went smooth, the team worked together efficiently and safely, and felt like a success as much as a body recovery can be.

It didn’t seem real to see the shirtless dead body pushed around by the current under the strainer his head bobbing in the waves.  Or even the horrific sight of him being lifted free of the water strapped to Dave and hauled back to shore white, bruised, and waterlogged after a night spent in the river.  My emotions stayed even, I performed my tasks.  We all did.

But somehow after it all ended, after everyone got out of the river safe, the body was on his way in the ambulance, and we were cleaning and putting away gear, a dull haze seemed to settle over the day.  My desires to go climbing or kayaking flooded away in the receding waters of the recovery.  Everyone’s spirits seemed even, but low probably because of the tragedy we had just witnessed first hand.

Somehow in this new grayness that enveloped the world a bright star became visible to remind me how precious life is.  How important it was for the family to get closure on their son’s death.  How essential it is that we value each moment.  What a fragile existence we hold here in this life, and how it’s all we have, each other, each day, each smile.

This note may come across a bit grim, but from where I sit now, life looks bright.  It’s been a rough day, but really incredible and eye opening as well.

I love you, and be safe.