This is the only time I have ever been really scared on, in, or around the water. On the Kalama, May 6 of this year. I was below the red barn. There is a little gravel island and a gravelly stretch that looked shallow enough to wade, except it dumps into a deeper stretch. I had waded it before and I tried again. I got almost to the bottom end of the island, but I had not started far enough upstream to hit the island comfortably and if I was going to get the rest of the way over, I was going to have to push upstream. I tried, but the water was so fast that I was just pushing gravel out from under me and losing inches with every step. I could stand still o.k., but I could make no progress. I didn't feel I could reverse direction because turning broadside in the maneuver seemed dangerous. I was stuck!

Finally, I decided I had to make the turnaround and go back. As soon as I brought my upstream leg down and around, the force of the water blew my legs out from under me and I went down. As soon as I went down, the water started pouring into by waders. I was going down the swift water, feet first, couldn't get my feet under me, and I was all the way under, kicking to try and find the bottom. I was into the deep water in an instant. At this point, I actually thought that this might be the end. If the water was too deep or too fast, I might be found near the Columbia somewhere.

I grabbed my belt to pull it tighter with my left hand. I had my prized rod and reel in my right hand. As soon as I pulled the belt, the buckle came out of the hole and it was now loose, only being held tight by my grip. I couldn't let go of that. And I didn't want to dump the rod/reel. But I was just about to that point.

Luckily, once into the deeper water, the water velocity slackened way up. I did get my feet under me and I found the bottom. The bottom was firm, not mucky, and I was able to bob to the surface and get a breath. Only then I realized that the water wasn't overly deep and I could bob back toward the shore. I got to where I could stand and the water was slow enough to move toward it, slowly being pushed downstream, but out of real danger.

When I got to the shore and started to wade out and when I got to about knee depth, I tried to take a big step, but my waders were so full of water, my foot wouldn't lift. The momentum of the attempted step just carried my body forward, with my legs anchored, and I fell flat on my face in the water again! I turned my butt around toward the shore and elbowed my way up onto the bank, then got my legs around uphill to dump the water out of my waders with me still in them.

I figure I may have lost my membership in the mammal family. We are supposed not to have to learn by experience. I guess I did about every stupid thing I've read not to do in all the articles I've read in my life. But I was sure glad to be alive. I took off my waders and my shirts, sat down on the river bank and just thought about all the stupid stuff I've done in my life.