The Golden Girls Glasses

Paul was the physical science lab manager at the college and started his job during the fall semester of 1998. Paul was a few years older than me, married with three young kids. As I often do with new hires, I like to learn about their interests, particularly with regard to music or their sense of adventure.

It was a beautiful sunny day in the spring of 1999 when I asked Paul if he would care to join me for a canoe trip down the Kettle River through Banning State Park. This particular stretch of the Kettle River is only navigable after the spring snow melts or after heavy summer thunderstorms. The air temperature that day was in the mid to upper 70s. It was a warm day for spring, but the water was still cold, perhaps in the upper 40s or low 50s.

The Kettle River passing through Banning State Park.

Paul told me he had previously only canoed a couple times, but never on a river. I told him it was OK. I didn’t consider myself an expert, but I was still pretty confident of my skills. The trip for this day would only be 4½ miles, but according to the State Trail Guide to the Kettle and Snake Rivers, this is the 2-mile stretch within Banning State Park that awaited us:

28.4-28.2 Blueberry Slide, the first of the Banning Rapids. Class II-IV. Two steep pitches in this long rapids create large souse holes and standing waves.

28.2-27.8 Mother’s Delight. Class II-III. River rushes through steep boulder-bed rapids into the Dalles of the Kettle River, a short, narrow canyon flanked by sandstone cliffs.

27.8 Dragon’s Tooth, named for a large rock on the right side of the channel near the tail of the rapids. Class II-IV. The river, less than 50 feet wide, has severely undercut the canyon walls. The “tooth” forms a powerful souse hole and waves in high water.

27.6-27.3 Little Banning Rapids, a series of boulder-bed rapids. Class I-III.

26.9-26.8 Hell’s Gate. Long boulder-bed rapids ending in a steep, narrow pitch between high sandstone escarpments as the Kettle leaves the dalles. Class II-III.

25.5 Quarry Rapids, Class II, portage right 100 yards. This drop may not be runnable at low water since the entire river tumbles onto sharp boulders; at high water, large back rollers develop.

Shortly after noon, we arrived at Robinson Park in Sandstone to drop our bikes off at the point where the canoe trip would end a couple hours later. From here, we drove to scout the portion of the river that passed through Banning State Park. The river levels appeared perfect and we agreed the rapids would likely prove a worthy challenge. We then drove to the drop-in point, located under the Hwy 23 bridge, east of Banning.

Paul and I lifted the canoe off the roof of the van. We had each packed a lunch and placed them into a cooler. The cooler fit snugly underneath one of the crossbars, so I tied it down to prevent it from floating away or filling with water in the event we capsized. A dry change of clothes was left in the van for the drive home.

We put on our life jackets and slid the canoe into the water. Since it is generally advisable for the person that is heavier and has more experience to sit in the back, I had Paul jump in first and take the front. Paul’s job would be to remain on the lookout for rocks and other submerged objects, while I would take on the duty of steering from the rear. When navigating rapids, both jobs are important, but steering is especially important. Should the canoe starts veering sideways, the canoe could easily quickly fill with water and/or capsize.

The first mile was nice and easy, providing sufficient time to share several canoeing tips with Paul. As we approached the first set of rapids, we pulled out to scout the rapids for a second time. After looking them over, we decided on the best path, jumped back into the canoe, and shot through the rapids. We were both cheering and hollering as I shouted out instructions. Some water rolled over the edge of the canoe as it splashed into our faces. What a thrill!

The river calmed a bit and we decided to pull out and dump the water before shooting the next set of rapids. We untied the cooler and emptied the water from the canoe. Once the canoe was uprighted, I secured the cooler back under the crossbar.

Since we now had a good hour of working together, Paul asked if he could take a turn at the rear. I said, “Sure! Why not?” I gave Paul a few pointers on steering and some differences he might expect to encounter at the rear. Mother’s Delight and Dragon’s Tooth were up next.

View from the top of Mother’s Delight in fall.

We jumped back into the canoe, shot through Mother’s Delight and approached the Dragon’s Tooth. Navigating around the Dragon’s Tooth requires a sharp right loop turn as you approach an undercut in the canyon walls. I started to yell out for Paul to turn, but we kept heading straight for undercut. If we didn’t change course instantly, the canoe would likely slide beneath the undercut and/or we would slam into the canyon wall. Either way, it was likely we would capsize.

At this point, I had no choice but to pull my paddle from the water, brace it against my shoulder, and to push off as hard as I could against the canyon wall. I kept yelling instructions to Paul, but it was to no avail. It seemed as if I was doing all of the work! That’s when I looked back and noticed that Paul was gone. Where was he? What happened to him?

After a few moments, Paul’s head popped up from under the water. His hat was gone. His glasses were gone. I imagine it was my swift push off the canyon wall that launched him out of the canoe. I slowed the canoe so he could grab a paddle and pull himself up onto the side of canoe. Very quickly, the water shallowed and Paul began dragging over the rocks. I pulled the canoe onto some nearby rocks, so Paul could get out of the water and we could empty the canoe.

The most difficult rapids were now behind us. Paul was getting a little hungry and thought about eating some of the lunch he had packed. The spill into the river had left him somewhat chilled. He chose to wait, but to provide easier access to the cooler, he decided to simply tie it to the crossbars rather than sliding it underneath.

We jumped back into the canoe and proceeded down the river. Since Paul no longer had his glasses, I took the rear for the remainder of the trip. I remember asking Paul questions like, “Should I tell you what you’re missing?” Looking back, it probably sounded rather snarky, but of course, I had to describe the sets of rapids that lied ahead and the bald eagle that flew above.

With me back at the stern, we successfully navigated Little Banning Rapids and Hells’s Gate, making our way to a calmer stretch of the river that lasted a little over a mile. As we neared the end of the trip, only Quarry Rapids remained. While they were Class II, they were relatively short, and provided plenty of time to look ahead and prepare. Of all the rapids on this trip, Quarry Rapids were the ones of least concern to me.

It turns out I underestimated them. A backroller wave struck us at an angle, filling the canoe with water, and caused us to capsize. We both grabbed onto the canoe and floated a hundred yards or so down the river until the water shallowed. As we approached a sandbar, we pulled the canoe from the water and untied the cooler. We proceeded to empty the water from the canoe yet again.

Stock photo of canoe capsizing, courtesy of REI.

Paul was not a big guy, but he was very lean and as close to 0% body fat as one can be. Not only was the water temperature cold, but the relative humidity that day was quite low, causing water to evaporate quickly. These conditions provide an even greater cooling effect. Since I had a relatively decent percentage of body fat and had been working pretty hard on this trip, I was OK. Paul, on the other hand, was shivering and appeared quite chilled.

I asked Paul if I could grab him his lunch. I reached for the cooler, finding that it had opened and filled with water when we had capsized. This was no doubt due to the fact the cooler hadn’t been secured under the crossbars the previous time the canoe was emptied.

I pulled out Paul’s sandwich bag, only to find that he now had a liquid sandwich. The chips he had packed were now liquified too. I offered to share my sandwich. Unfortunately, it turned out my ziplock bag had popped open and had become liquified as well. All that remained in the cooler now were a couple cans of diet soda and my banana. Paul’s apple had apparently floated away.

I offered Paul my banana and assured him that I would be OK. As I handed off the banana, I watched Paul. He was shaking and shivering so hard that he couldn’t hold or peel the banana. I asked Paul if he wanted me to peel the banana for him. He nodded his head and handed the banana back to me, as it seemed he was now unable to even speak. I peeled the banana and gave it back to him. Paul ate the banana as the spring sun slowly soaked in and his shaking and shivering began to subside.

The park where we had left our bikes was just on the other side of the river from the sandbar where we had pulled out. Though we were still wet and cold, we knew we would warm up faster once we got onto the bikes and rode back to the van. We jumped back into the canoe, paddled across the river, pulled out the canoe, and hopped onto our bikes.

The bike ride was 6-7 miles long and took 30-40 minutes. As an avid biker that often rode his bike to work, Paul was in his element. The ride gave us both a chance to dry out and warm up a bit. Once we arrived at the van, we immediately changed into our dry clothes and shoes. We instantly felt a lot better!

We loaded the bikes into the van, drove back to pick up the canoe, and headed for home. On the way home, I told Paul that my then-wife, Kim, and I saved our old glasses and perhaps there would be an old pair that would fit and be close enough in prescription for him to drive home from my place.

Once we arrived, I started to tell Kim about the day. I asked her if she could go in and grab the bin of old glasses we had saved. Paul tried all of my old glasses first, but the prescriptions were too strong. The only pair left had been worn by Kim back in the 1980s, lavender and wire-rimmed. The bows attached near the bottom of the lenses. Looking back, they bore some resemblance to the glasses worn by Estelle Getty in her role as Sophia Petrillo in The Golden Girls. However, the glasses fit perfectly and the prescription was a close match to Paul’s.

Estelle Getty, as Sophia Petrillo, in The Golden Girls.

While I could’ve driven Paul home, the only real option was for him to wear the glasses and drive himself, as he didn’t have any contact lenses or a spare pair of glasses of his own. Before leaving, Paul went back to the van to grab his wet clothes, but wasn’t able to find them. He asked if I had already taken them out. I told Paul that I had not, so we looked some more. Finally, we figured out that when we had changed into our dry clothes after finishing our bike ride that he had left his wet clothes and shoes back in the woods.

We both had a really good laugh, me more so than Paul. After all, I still had my glasses, I still had my clothes, and I had still been able to drive home. It was a fitting end to my story, but wouldn’t be the end for Paul.

I tried to imagine what it would be like for him to go home to his wife wearing women’s glasses, ones that evoked an image of The Golden Girls, while also telling her he had left his clothes and shoes in the woods. Seriously…if you were the wife, what would YOU think? There’s no story that would sound good!

I am here to tell you that I swear by this Lance Story. It is indeed TRUE and was not simply “inspired” by real events. This is the way it went down, at least as best as I can recall. I hope you enjoyed!

Lance S. Lund
Lance@ChemLancer.com
as remembered and written on September 12, 2020