While searching for his parents’ killers, ex-Navy SEAL captain Adam Weldon encounters a lovely undercover FBI agent, a ruthless drug cartel intent on killing him, a gambling casino for the super-rich run by a radio preacher, a host of motley river-guides, and a succession of hair-raising challenges both in and out of the whitewater rapids of the Kern River.

An action-adventure murder mystery by Whitewater Voyages founder and author William McGinnis, Whitewater is a gripping, can’t-put-it-down page turner sure to enrich your experience of any river and of life itself. Not only is it fun and fast paced, but also, woven into its rich fabric is a celebration of nature and life-enhancing wisdom, including penetrating insights into the deep wellsprings of human kindness and high-level wellness—the very philosophy that infuses the river trips of Whitewater Voyages.

We estimate that the first copies of Whitewater will be ready to ship sometime this summer or fall. This is an estimate—the actual release date could be sooner—or later. Regardless of the actual shipping date, by pre-ordering now you lock in the $12.95 price and guarantee that you will be among the very first to receive this fun, gripping, uplifting novel signed personally for you by the author.

Whitewater Voyages founder and rafting pioneer William McGinnis wrote Whitewater Rafting, considered the bible of the sport, and his definitive, encyclopedic The Guide’s Guide Augmented is used by boaters, river guides and and outfitters all over the world.

—To pre-order your signed copy of Whitewater: A Novel by William McGinnis now, click here.

—Or to register to be notified when Whitewater: A Novel is released, click here.

Readers and Writers Comment on Whitewater: A Novel by William McGinnis

“What a great read! I loved it!” —Linda Mauer, Co-owner & CFO of Have Gun Will Travel (an airplane painting company)

“WOW!! DOUBLE WOW!!!!! An amazing thriller! I couldn't put it down... This book is exciting and enthralling.” —Bud Robyn, river rafter, mountain climber, sailor, aerobatic pilot, skydiver, kite surfer and international business executive

“‘Whitewater’s nature descriptions are poetry in prose.... the love and oneness with Mother Earth is palpable. I can really feel the river. McGinnis’ expressive, descriptive details and his gift with words directly pull me into the experience without having to get wet!!” —Shelley Mallary, Life coach and spiritual teacher

”Danger! Thrills! Characters to both love and fear. I could almost feel the spray of the whitewater. Whitewater is excitement with a heart.” —Jil Plummer, Author of six novels including “Caravan to Armageddon”

Whitewater: A Novel

by William McGinnis
Chapters One and Two

Jump to chapter: One | Two

Chapter One: Entering Kern Canyon

“Stay away from the Kern!”

Peace’s voice crescendoed via cell phone over the van’s sound system as I hurtled toward the broad western face of the Southern Sierra.

“I’m going in,” I said. “I need you to tell me what you know.”

“And help you get yourself killed like your mom and dad? No way!”

“I have to do this. I’m doing this. With or without you.”

“We’ve been through this a thousand times. It’s suicide! Adam, you’ve got to let it go. I’m begging you, turn around now and come home.”

“I’m going in.”

I’m no stranger to fear. The dry mouth. The churning gut. The screaming need to empty bowel and bladder. I know them well. But instead of the long expected dread, I felt pure excitement as I, on that hot August morning, after half a lifetime of preparation, drove eastward on Highway 178 toward the deep-V mouth of the Kern River Canyon. Perhaps it was my aroused state, but as I peered out through the bug-splattered windshield of my 4-wheel-drive camper van, the two canyon walls seemed to splay out like the craggy, tawny legs of some ancient earth giantess. Where the legs met, the Kern River beckoned, surging and pulsating in a geologic dance of rock and water—the rock hard and squeezing, the water ever moving and exploding in wild rhythms.

Somewhere in the canyon before me, my mother and father had been brutally murdered twenty eight years earlier when I was a little boy five years old. Now I was back to find the killers.

Blasted out of the nearly vertical southern canyon wall, the road narrowed and snaked along, compressed between a ragged, dynamite-scarred rock face on one side and a sheer drop off with no guard rail on the other. Not far below, the leviathan Kern River surged through an earth-beat tango of smooth sensual glides punctuated by explosive whitewater cataracts.

After what seemed much longer—but was by my odometer only twelve miles—of twisting turns, the canyon opened and the narrow, constricted two-lane tarmac broadened into a full-blown, four-lane expressway. I remembered reading that, in one of the more bizarre anomalies of the US highway system, this major freeway from nowhere to nowhere sits locked away alone, largely cut off, deep inside the body of the Southern Sierra. I noticed with pleasure that the builders had taken care to blend this civil engineering marvel into the natural slope. Except for the road scar itself high up the canyon wall, the original look of the place was intact.

To stretch my legs after my long drive from the San Francisco bay area, and to more fully take in the canyon towering around me, I pulled off the road and eased into a gulch. Prompted by survival instincts that had kept me alive through three tours of duty as a Navy SEAL captain, one in Iraq and two in Afghanistan, I hid my Sportsmobile van under a canopy of smooth-barked manzanita. Grabbing my binoculars, I locked the doors and started walking along the edge of the mountain freeway, and then onto a rocky promontory jutting over the river. In the brilliant mountain light, I gazed at the undulating river far below, the tree-dotted, boulder-strewn slopes, the majestic Greenhorn Mountains to the north—technically considered the southern end of the Sierra Nevada—and the Piute Mountains to the South.

The silence was absolute, as, through my binoculars, I studied the cathedral-like canyon. A thousand feet above, a California Condor, with wings spread incredibly wide, effortlessly floated on the thermals rising off the southern-facing rim, eyeing and apparently grooving with this slice of creation that had been carved out over the eons by the Kern River.

Sounds of screeching and crashing ripped me from my reverie. Louder and louder. Splitting the air. Metal resounding on metal mixed with the cacophony of imploding plastic and shattering glass. I spun to see a black humvee repeatedly side swipe and rear end a white Prius, obviously trying to run it off the cliff. The Prius dodged this way and that, but despite the efforts of its driver, it could not outrun or outmaneuver the much bigger, more powerful jeep on steroids.

Frozen, I watched the two warring vehicles as they approached my promontory. Then the humvee exploded forward like a moon shuttle booster rocket, and rear ended the Prius in a homicidal acceleration that sent the small vehicle straight toward—and off—the edge just a few yards from where I hunkered.

As the Prius shot over the brink and out into thin air, the driver and I looked directly into one another’s eyes. She—a raven-haired woman—was there for an instant, then gone.

Riveted, I watched the Prius make a short arc through the air, land right side up, and slew wildly, skidding down the long scree slope. Dense clusters of bushes slowed the little car. Damned if the woman was not only keeping her wheels down, she seemed to be exercising some degree of control. I watched in admiration as she steered into soft bushes, avoiding trees and rocks which certainly would have killed her. Incredibly, she even had the presence of mind to aim for a gap in the dense tangle of trees lining the riverbank at the bottom of the slope. Whipped by bush after bush in its path, the hybrid slowed, then slowed some more. Still going way too fast, it swept through the gap in the riparian vegetation and slid into the water, disappearing below the surface.

The black humvee had skidded to a stop just before the cliff edge. Two muscular men climbed out, one tall, the other short, both sporting square-edged, flat-topped haircuts and thick black shoes. Both gripped rifles with large scopes which they aimed at me, and I knew that, as their only witness, they intended to shoot me dead. I dropped my binoculars and flung myself down the steep incline. Shots exploded around me, two within inches of my right ear, sending concussive shivers down my spine.

Dodging this way and that, I ran wildly, skidding, scrambling and sliding down the inclined plane of the canyon wall, avoiding the bushes, trying to put trees and rock outcroppings between me and the shooters, all the while praying the girl had managed to escape drowning. I slid, first on my feet, for a moment on my belly, then on my back. Finally reaching river level, I regained my footing, dodged through the gnarly, twisted trees lining the water’s edge, and, right where the Prius had gone in, jumped feet first into the powerful current.

Submerged, my years not only as a SEAL but also as a kid swimming the lakes of Northern California and San Francisco Bay came rushing back to me. My senses sharpened, I spotted the car below me and dove down. When I looked inside, the woman was not there. Had she been washed away? Knocked out cold, maybe drowned? I surfaced, gasping for air. Swimming at a right angle to the current, I stroked back to the bank and burst up onto a small grassy beach. The dripping-wet body of the woman was lying in the shelter of a huge sycamore trunk.

“Are you all right? Are you hurt?” I rushed to her.

Jump to chapter: One | Two

Chapter Two: The Swim

“Christ, what a fox,” I thought, “but is she alive?”

As I leaned over her, first one blue eye, then another looked up at me. “Are you okay?” I asked.

She gave a small moan, “What a ride. The air bag saved me.”

Bright red blood oozed from her left forearm and from her right leg above the knee. A smart cookie, she had clamped her right hand over the wound in her left arm and with her left hand was staunching the flow from her leg, but the bleeding continued.

“We need to stop that,” I blurted as my military first-aid training kicked in. I pulled off my t-shirt, tearing it into strips. Pressing the patches of cloth over her wounds, I had her hold them in place while I checked for broken bones, concussion, and spine and neck injuries. As I did this, I couldn’t help feeling the woman’s magnetism, and noticed my heartbeat speeding up.

I stammered, “You were amazing! Making it down that slope! And getting your car through that narrow gap in the trees! It’s a miracle you’re alive.”

“Yes, I was lucky,” she gave a shadow of a smile. “Thanks. What about you? How’d you get down here so fast? You okay?”

“It was either stay and get shot, or tumble down the slope and rescue you. I’m good,” I couldn’t help grinning as I finished my examination. “Except for these cuts in your arm and leg, it looks like you came through okay.”

As I tied more strips of cloth to secure her bandages and set her hands free, I said, “We need to clean and redress these wounds. But this’ll have to do for now.”

Gesturing with her thumb toward the highway far above, she said, “They’ve got sniper rifles, telescopic scopes. They’ll stop at nothing, and’ll kill you too. We have to get away”

Being careful to stay hidden, I peered around the massive sycamore trunk up at the two guys who were now out on the promontory scanning the canyon for some sign of us. Seeming to read my mind, she said, “We’ll have to swim the rapids. We’ve got no choice. You okay with that?”

“Definitely, but first I’m calling the cops.” I pulled my waterproof cell phone from my pocket.

“No don’t,” she sat up, looked me squarely in the eyes and gripped my hand holding the phone.

“You’ve got to be kidding. Why the hell not?” I pointed toward the highway with my other hand, “Two pro killers gunning for us in broad daylight. They’ve got the high ground and the guns. It only makes sense to equal the odds a bit by calling in some cavalry.”

“Big mistake,” she said.

Flabbergasted, I was about to object when, taking both of my hands in hers, she gently interlaced her fingers with mine, saying, “I’ll tell you why later. But now we’ve got to go.”

Despite misgivings, my objections melted and I sighed, “Okay, let’s get out of here before we die like sitting ducks.”

I helped her to her feet. With her wet, faded-red t-shirt and shorts clinging to her body, she brushed her hair back and drew a deep breath. “I know this river,” she pointed. “Our best line through this first rapid will be right of center where we should be hidden by the trees.”

Although she limped slightly, she moved toward the water with animal grace. Lightly touching my arm, she ushered me forward, saying quickly and quietly, “Float feet downstream, toes on the surface, using your feet to push off rocks.”

She paused and shook her head as though to fight off a moment of dizziness, then continued, “To miss submerged trees, swim perpendicular to the current. Because we don’t have life jackets, we’ll be mostly underwater in the rapids, so breathe whenever you can. Okay?”

I smiled inwardly, thinking of the embarrassment this gal might feel if she knew that I’d probably swum more kinds of water than she’d ever seen. I was glad to see, though, that she knew her stuff.

As we eased into the strong current, she added, “By the way, my name’s Tripnee. It’s been nice knowing you.”

“I’m Adam. I guess you must be a river guide?”

“Yes, among other things.”

Staying close to the right, where the dense, intertwined willow, alder and sycamore trees lined the bank screening us from the riflemen above, we silently floated downriver.

Back in the water, after years away from it, I experienced an upwelling of my old love of swimming in nature, plus a new sensation. This woman kindled a spark within me. It wasn’t so much how she looked—though her strong form looked just fine—it was the aliveness that flowed through her. “Beware,” something whispered within me.

As the current carried us, I became aware of a dull roar growing louder and louder. Tripnee moved into position directly ahead of me. I was hypnotized by the rhythmic stroking of her lithe, sculpted arms. As the current swept us toward the horizon line just ahead, she assumed a feet-downstream, toes-at-the-surface position, and I followed suit. Moments later Tripnee rose up briefly, lifted by an upwelling in the water’s surface, and then disappeared from view. Picking up speed toward the brink, up to my neck in this surging river, I could see nothing but spray and mist thrown up by the cataract into which I was about to be hurled. With the speed of a projectile launched from a catapult, I shot down into a wild orgy of sucking, squeezing currents, probing fingers of foam, and thrusting tongues of limb-bashing whitewater.

Tumbling along submerged, I thought everything was pretty much fine, except for the no-breathing part, when suddenly my right foot caught in a slot between two big rocks on the river bottom. I hung by my ankle face down, stretched out in the driving current like a Raggedy Ann doll in a hurricane. The harder I struggled, the tighter my ankle wedged into the vice-like grip of the rock crevice. Desperately I tried to move back upriver to free my foot, but the current was utterly relentless and overpowering. With my lungs screaming for oxygen, my strength waning, and my mind starting to black out, it occurred to me that I was going to join my mom and dad very soon.

Suddenly, amazingly, I felt Tripnee pushing me back upstream. While I was immobile underwater, she must have realized I was in trouble, swum for shore, run back up the bank, figured out where I was, and dived down to catch the small underwater eddy created by my entrapped body. Now she was under me, facing me, with her head pointed upstream and her feet somehow braced on the riverbed. She pressed her body against mine, held me tight, and somehow propelled me little by little, inch by inch, back against the current. My ankle loosened. As soon as I was free, Tripnee unbraced her feet and we shot off down through the rapid. Frantically, I stroked for the surface, where I filled my lungs again and again with delicious, life-giving air—each lungful a treasure beyond price.

Soon we were sucked under again—and still again. When at last I surfaced below the rapid, I looked around for Tripnee, but she was nowhere to be seen. House-sized boulders of salt-and-pepper granite glided by on both banks. The Kern rounded a bend. The riflemen now had to be out of visual and rifle range. But no Tripnee.

Then, there she was, rising to the surface at my side. In that same moment my vision shifted and I was struck by the greens of the willows and alders, and the blue of the sky. Tripnee’s brilliant smile, her glistening, tanned skin, the curve of her neck meeting breast bone—all took on a rich vividness. I turned away.

“Are you okay?” she asked. “I want to look at you. Can you swim to the bank?”

As I said, “I’m fine,” I realized my right ankle didn’t feel quite right.

“Humor me. Let’s take a look.”

We were in a long, quiet calm, and stroked for the right bank, the bank nearest the highway, where we would be most hidden. In the shallows, I stood up and winced as a throbbing pain radiated up my leg. My entire ankle was chafed raw and bleeding.

“Now it’s my turn,” Tripnee removed and tore her t-shirt into strips, using it to expertly bandage my wounds and stop the bleeding.

Seeing this woman in her nicely filled out red bikini top and matching shorts further eased my pain. “If this keeps up,” I joked, “At some point we’re going to run out of bandage material.”

Tripnee just smiled and ran her tongue back and forth over her slightly lopsided lips.

Feeling a wave of shyness, we both looked out over the calm. Etching the river’s surface, ever-changing patterns of swirling bubbles formed a series of masterpieces.

We eased back in. Neck deep, slowly treading water with extended leisurely strides similar to the motions of a cross country skier, I ignored the ache of my injury, and inhaled long, slow, full breaths. Taking in my immediate surroundings—Tripnee’s bobbing head, the magnificent canyon towering around me, the growing roar of the oncoming rapid—I filled with an unexpected joy. Despite the fact that we were fleeing from crazed gunmen and our lives were in extreme danger, I experienced something that was rare for me: A sense of rightness, a sense that this was where I wanted to be.

We floated around several more bends and swam more roaring, electrifying, body-blasting rapids. I could tell Tripnee knew the river like the back of her hand. She led and I followed down through rapid after rapid. Some were too dangerous to swim, and needed to be walked around. Unfortunately I inadvertently swam a few of these anyway, because at times we got separated. But somehow we survived and kept going.

Jump to chapter: One | Two

The first copies of Whitewater: A Novel should be ready to ship sometime this summer or fall. This is an estimate—the actual release date could be sooner—or later. Regardless of the actual shipping date, by pre-ordering now you lock in the $12.95 price and guarantee that you will be among the very first to receive this fun, gripping, uplifting novel signed personally for you by the author.

To pre-order your signed copy of Whitewater by William McGinnis now, click here.

The Guide’s Guide Augmented:

Reflections on Guiding Professional River Trips

By Whitewater Voyages founder William McGinnis

The definitive—and only—how-to-book on professional river guiding, The Guide’s Guide Augmented presents a comprehensive philosophy and wealth of detailed methods for creating “Deep Fun:” Life enhancing river trips which entertain, inspire, educate, thrill, heal & delight. Used by guides, outfitters and trip leaders worldwide, The Guide’s Guide Augmented thoroughly explains the multifaceted art of river guiding: People, leadership and conflict-resolution skills; safety talks; guide training; signals; knots; high-water safety; swiftwater rescue; emergency evacuations & coping with accidents; minimizing liability; expedition food planning; nature interpretation made fascinating; boatloads of hilarious river, land & bus games which really bring people together; and much, much more!

Order Today: The list price for The Guide’s Guide Augmented is $35. For a limited time we have lowered the price to $19.95 plus $1.65 California sales tax and $4.95 shipping.

Orders can be placed by phone, mail, email or through our web site. We will ship the books ASAP.

WhitewaterVoyages.com
Phone: 800 400 RAFT/Fax: 510-758-7238
E mail: fun@whitewatervoyages.com
5225 San Pablo Dam Road
El Sobrante, CA 94803

A Note from Bill about The Guide’s Guide Augmented:

It is deeply gratifying that today the original 140-page, 1981 edition of The Guide’s Guide is in wider use and greater demand than ever—the last printing of which sold out with lightening speed! The Guide’s Guide Augmented, at 316 pages, includes a completely updated version of the original Guide’s Guide contents, plus a wealth of new material on safety, rescue, evacuation, knots, guide training, interpretation, entertainment and, throughout, a more evolved philosophy for creating fun, nurturing, uplifting trips that keep people returning for more.

Some of my guides think I’m crazy to sell The Guide’s Guide and crazier still to sell The Guide’s Guide Augmented because they feel these books give away our trade secrets, our competitive edge, the philosophy and methods which distinguish the trips of Whitewater Voyages from those of other outfitters. I really believe, however, that the safer and better all rafting trips and outdoor recreation experiences, the better for all of us. The more people who return home in one piece, thrilled and delighted with their river trip or outdoor outing, the more river rafting and outdoor recreation in general will be seen as a great thing to do and the more all outfitters, the recreating public and our recreation resources will benefit.

It is my hope that The Guide’s Guide Augmented will be helpful, even inspirational, to guides, trip leaders, outfitters, government agency river and recreation managers, private boaters and adventure travel companies of all sorts. Any individual, company or group which practices the philosophy and methods presented in this book is welcome to consider The Guide’s Guide Augmented their own staff manual. Although the myriad users of this book are independent, far flung adventurers, guides, outfitters, tour operators and recreation resource managers, at the same time, ideally, we are all working together to enhance the quality of life on this planet! The highest purpose of this book is to contribute to this broad, growing effort—which is, after all, an ongoing quest of planet-saving proportions.

The Guide’s Guide Augmented: Table of Contents

PART 1: The Big Picture
Guiding in General
Guides and Guests
Staff Relations

Part 2: The Trip
The Trip Leader
The Head Chef
Before the Trip
On the Highway and Care Of Vehicles
At the Put-In
On the River
Water Fighting
High Water Safety Guidelines
In Camp
At the Take-Out
End-of-Trip Follow Through

PART 3: Safety Talks
Classic Trip Leader’s Put-In Safety Talk: The Main Points
Classic Trip Leader’s Put-In Safety Talk: The Long Version
Classic Paddle-Boat Talk
Classic Oar-Boat Talk
Trip Leader Checklist for Modular Safety Talk
Witness Statement for Modular Safety Talk
Modular Safety Talk Outline
Full Modular Rafting Safety Talk

PART 4: River Signals
River Signals Introduction
Universal Signals
Group Modes of Operation
Coping with Drops
River Emergencies
Someone Missing
We Need
River Etiquette
Camaraderie & Other Stuff
Whistle Signals to Assist Blind Swimmers
Sign Language Alphabet

PART 5: Rescue
Emergencies
Z-Rig
Piggyback Rig
Continuous-Loop Load-Distribution System
Entrapment Rescue:
Overall Summary
Rescue Team Organization
The Carlson Cinch
Line Crossing Options
Strong Swimmer Rescue
Stabilization & Snag-Drag Lines
Telpher Lower
Swiftwater Crossing: The Wedge
Emergency Evacuation Kit
Emergency Evacuation Action Plan
Patient Assessment Form
Sample Emergency Evacuation Information: Tuolumne River
Trip Leader’s Emergency Evacuation Sheet: Big Picture Considerations
Trip Leader’s Emergency Evacuation Journal
Report of Injury to Client or Guest
Report of Injury to an Employee
Witness Statement
When Tragedy Strikes: Dealing with Serious Accidents

PART 6: Specifics
Company Policies
House Code
The Warehouse
Training
A Summary of Rafting Basics: Guide School Exam Questions for Discussion
Temporary Help
Motor Tows
4-Wheel Drive Instructions
Tuolumne Rapids
Briefing: Kern River
Briefing: South Fork American River
Equipment Packing List
First Aid Kit Contents
Repair Kit Contents

PART 7: Expedition Food Planning Guide
General Advice
Shopping Checklist for Short Trips
Menu for 7-Day Expedition
Menu for 18-Day Expedition
Kitchen Box Contents
Lunch Utensil Bag Contents
Other Cooking Gear
Quantity/Yield List
River Recipes
More Recipes

PART 8: Entertainment and Interpretation
Deep Fun: Moving People from Fear to Courage to Joy
River Games: A Touch of the Silly and the Rowdy
Adventure Swims
Chants and Song
Interpretation
Quiet Camaraderie
Bus Games
Land Games
Racoon Circles
Endings

PART 9: Knots
A Word about Knots
Coiling a Line
The Quick Coil
Two Half Hitches in a Bight
Water Knot
Bowline
Tying the Bowline: The Two-Finger Method
Rafter’s Hitch with Quick-Release Half Hitch with Insurance
Clove Hitch
Basic Figure 8
Figure 8 in a Bight
Figure 8 Follow-Through
Figure 8 Bight in a Bight
Prusik
Klemheist
French Prusik
Double Fisherman’s
Friction Release
Three-Point Hitch for Boat Towing

Glossary with Commentary
Bibliography and Books of Interest
Magazines of Interest
Websites of Interest
Index
Poem: While Driving Home from the Kings River to El Sobrante

A Few Quotes from The Guide’s Guide Augmented:

It is not enough just to get people as safely as possible down the river, it is also paramount for guides to enhance the fun, camaraderie, learning and openness on river trips.

Answer all questions with thoroughness, care and appreciation. Realize that your caring answers can turn any question into a good question and can send the message that here, in this boat, it is okay and safe to know what you know, okay and safe to not know what you do not know, and okay and safe to be open and unguarded.

Earn the group’s trust and support: In the beginning of each trip you are laying a foundation of seriousness that must underlie heartfelt silliness. Give an extra thorough safety talk with humor and supportiveness, and extra thorough in-boat training with a blend of humor, lots of positive strokes, nurturing and firmness. Thoroughly teach your crew everything they need to know to paddle well, stay in the boat, and cope with emergencies. It is only when everyone feels reassured that they are in good hands and know how to play their part that they can completely relax and really be silly—and, in a sense, build an edifice of silliness on this foundation of seriousness.

Celebrate the fact that the river of each human soul tends to be deep and wide and multi-layered and ever flowing. It is normal for us to have multiple and even contradictory feelings about issues, ourselves and one another all at the same time. As guides we can model, and inspire in others, an acceptance and celebration of this ever unfolding, multifaceted, mysterious richness! It is totally OK that at times parts of us don’t like certain things about others. As human souls, even with all of our differences, we have an infinite number of things in common. When you have people on a trip who outwardly are very different from one another, you as the guide can in fact use this to enhance the group’s experience. First, set an example of finding and focusing on things everyone has in common (as humans in any setting but especially when working together to run a river, we have just about everything in common, fundamentally). Later, as the group’s bonds and sense of unity strengthen, appreciate and celebrate the differences—which turn out not to be so different after all. When a group of us humans has a really good time together, our very differences, seen from the perspective of all we have in common, can greatly add to the fun we find in being together!

Be humble, that is, include everyone in your coolness: Perhaps the single most influential thing a guide can do to inspire openness, trust and true camaraderie—and, hence, deep fun—is to simply be humble and appreciate others.

When most people contemplate outdoor adventure activities like whitewater rafting, it is entirely normal to experience fear, consciously or unconsciously, on a number of levels. There is physical fear: Am I going to get hurt? Am I going to die? There is social fear: Am I going to be accepted or rejected by this group? And biggest of all, for most of us, are fears around issues of self esteem: Can I do this? Am I OK? Skilled river guides can implicitly assuage all of these fears in the very way they prepare people and guide them down the river. Every trip begins with a thorough safety talk and in-boat training which teach everything trip members need to know to make it safely down the river—thereby addressing physical fear. And by doing this with warmth, caring, good humor and respect, professional guides create an atmosphere of acceptance and support and good fun in which social fears and fears around issues of self esteem melt away.

Seize the moment: Be present in the moment—don’t wait for take-out, tomorrow, etc. Whenever you notice yourself thinking about or yearning for take-out or anywhere else, ask, “What can I do right now to make this trip, this moment in this boat, in this camp, more fun and supportive for all of us?”

If you can say how you feel to at least one other person, it can free you to feel something new.

The goal is to include, accept and appreciate—and to send the message that everyone is truly OK and wonderful—just as they are right now! This is one of the most healing of all messages—and puts the group on the path to deep fun!

Cultivate an appreciation for the possibilities of human groups: Human groups, such as the circle of human souls in a raft or around a campfire, are capable of amazing quantum-leap magnifications of energy and aliveness. When a charismatic guide receives the energy flowing from the group and channels it back out to everyone present with the implicit message, “Everyone is cool and appreciated,” everyone, including the guide, tends to experience, to put it mildly, an improved sense of well being, a heightened awareness (colors become more vivid, etc.) and a greatly increased flow of energy and aliveness! An amazing aspect of all this is that everyone, including the guide, gets to experience the god-like pleasure of hanging out with cool, god-like people.

The Inner Question

At put ins and early on trips, the inner question within most questions asked by clients is: “Is this a safe place to be me?” By answering all questions with thoroughness and caring, and by turning all questions into good questions by using them as an opportunity to share genuinely interesting information, aware guides send the message: “Yes, this is indeed a safe place to be just as you are. Everyone here will be treated with respect; you will not be made fun of or put down; here you can relax, be yourself, let your hair down, expand, grow, and even be silly, and still be accepted and appreciated!”

For example, to the common question, “How deep is the river?” a mindful guide might answer: “Thanks for that question! Well, here in this calm at put in the river might be about 15 feet deep, while downriver in that first rapid—and in other rapids further downriver—the depth in many places is much less, maybe as shallow as 6 feet. So, interestingly enough, often there is an inverse relationship between depth and level of challenge. In this 15-foot-deep calm the challenge is low, while in the much shallower rapids the challenge or difficulty (or ease with which one can make mistakes) is much greater.”

Another example: A client asks, “So does the river flow back around to this point, so we end up back here?” A thoughtful answer: “Thanks for your question. Many people ask the same thing because all of the water rides they’ve done have been theme park rides like Disney’s Flume ride which do flow back to their starting point. Well, this is an actual, natural river powered by gravity. The water moves because it is flowing downhill, so this water cannot flow back to this point, but can only flow down and down, down out of these mountains—and eventually down to the ocean, which, of course, is at sea level. Still, in a sense, in the big picture, this river actually does flow back to this point. Because rivers flow into the ocean, where water evaporates to form clouds, and clouds float on high in over the land to release rain and snow, and that rain and snow is what feeds this very river. So, yes, the water in this river does in fact flow back to this point! Thanks again for your question, which was fun to answer!”

Bear in mind that to some degree all trip members, either consciously or unconsciously, have this same question—i.e., “Is this a safe place to be me?”—and will register the message implicit in your answer! So if you want to be with people who are relaxed, loose, expanding and really having fun, answer all questions with thoroughness, patience, acceptance and appreciation!

In the context of a river trip, guides glow with charisma in the eyes of their crew. Some guides lose their perspective in the flow of this energizing adoration and start thinking in an “us versus them” manner summed up by the words, “I’m a cool river guide, and these people in my boat are not.” The contextual adoration tends to be so strong, trip members will even let guides get away with this. The big problem with this is that everyone loses. Truly cool guides remain humble and reflect the energizing attention flowing toward them back out onto every individual present and the group as a whole. This way everyone, including the guide, gets to feel and truly be cool and appreciated.

Fully enter into the experience of each trip. Be present. If you find yourself thinking about something or somewhere else, invite your attention back into the moment by asking yourself, “How can I enhance my experience—and the experience of the people I am with—right now?”.

Comments on The Guide’s Guide Augmented

and William McGinnis’s writing in general:

“The Guide’s Guide ... is ... every bit as absorbing, instructive and entertaining as William McGinnis’ (first book) Whitewater Rafting. If you are or wish to be a river rafting trip leader, this guide is a must. ... the lucid writing intrigued me word for word from beginning to end.” George Larson, Sierra Club

“Great stuff! I’m constantly impressed with the amount of thought and energy William McGinnis puts into the finer points of guiding.” Bruce Lessels, Zoar Outdoor

“William McGinnis is ... utterly remarkable ... and ... by far the most gifted writer I am aware of at capturing the heart and soul—the very essence of a whitewater river experience. ... His extraordinary gift so much in evidence in his twenties has continued to deepen and mature. ... For his contribution to my life, to all those other boaters and to this sport for which I have an enduring passion, I wish to thank him.” George Brown

More Books:

The Class V Briefing
By William McGinnis and the Whitewater Voyages Staff
Whitewater Voyages, 1985, 29 pages,
$6.65 (includes tax and shipping)

The Class V Briefing is a distillation of the rowing and paddle captaining techniques developed by the guides of Whitewater Voyages while exploring and guiding trips on extremely difficult rivers. To quote one reviewer: “This little guide does an excellent job summing up the steps necessary to tackle class V whitewater as safely as possible.”

River Signals
By William McGinnis
Whitewater Voyages, 2001, 31 pages, $7.68
(Includes tax and shipping)

The signals in this little book can enhance cooperation and good will within and between boating groups, and help make river journeys of all types safer, smoother and more fun. Richly illustrated with over one hundred line drawings.

Whitewater Voyages.com
Phone: 800 400 RAFT/Fax: 510-758-723
E mail: fun@whitewatervoyages.com
5225 San Pablo Dam Road
El Sobrante, CA 94803

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