After the center closed one evening, Rob and I strolled down the side of the channel. Each night, the center turned off the pumps, and all the water drained down to the bottom pool. As we walked, we stopped at each rapid, now so quiet and benign. Rob took my finger and pointed to the concrete features and rubber pylons that created the rapids. They were now totally exposed. Sunset, the first rapid after the middle pool, was created by a steep concrete ramp running into a concave boxy hole. Then came the devious M-Wave. At full flow, it was two lateral waves crashing together in a chaotic pile; if you saw it from above, upstream, it would look like a downriver-facing M. Two gates pinched the flow into a tight narrow tongue. After the gates, the water fanned out and rebounded off underwater structures and came back onto itself. Immediately afterward, Shut Down made a fierce river-wide hole, consisting of another sharp drop-off. The lineup ended with Biscuits and Gravy, formed by a series of underwater structures that twisted the channel left and right into two steep waves coming from different directions. They were a one-two knockout blow before you dropped into the calm bottom pool.

As Rob described the bottom of this man-made river, it struck me what a rare opportunity we had to study the features that created so much energy and turbulence on the surface. On wild rivers, those boulders, drop-offs, and narrow pinches between rocks were covered by rushing water, but now revealed and decoded, they felt a little less menacing.

The next morning, the head of the kayak school talked me into swimming the channel, rather than kayaking it. We put on our PFDs, and he swam in front of me, looking back and yelling, “Swim right … more right! Get your feet up! Here it comes!” As I hit each rapid, I quickly got the knack of holding my breath as it sucked me down and held me under for a few seconds before finally releasing me on the other side. Afterward, we got into a tandem kayak with me in front, and he steered me through the entire course, further bolstering my confidence.

On my third trip to the Whitewater Center, I was finally getting into a rhythm. After Entrance Exam, I’d cut hard right into an eddy and regroup. Then we’d charge out, making the delicate turn downriver. If I didn’t turn enough, I’d blast into a narrow eddy on the other side and slam into the wall. Turn too much and I’d crash off another wall and be bounced sideways into a succession of powerful, topsy-turvy waves. In the big pool, I’d eddy out again and take another rest. The biggest and most difficult rapids I would face all loomed below, and finally, I could no longer postpone the inevitable.