Skull Crusher: That Sounds Fun!

If you knew that a particular rock formation along the river was called "Skull Crusher", would you willingly go over the falls without a kayak, or even an innertube? Would you let the river just take your body over the falls and hope for the best? I did.

In all fairness, I didn't know it was called the Skull Crusher at the time, but still. The water was really low the first time I discovered this spot that very quickly became my favorite place in all the world to be. Without the knowledge of the place, or a name for the big rocks all around me, it was just a flow of water, cascading over some rocks, that looked like it might be fun to let carry me away. And it was!

I bumbled not-so gracefully towards the opening for the fall and whooooosh...I wrapped my arms up over my head and tucked my chin towards my chest as I swooshed down into the small pool below. It was fun, but probably better with a tube of some kind.

The next time I went out there with others and was excited to show them the falls. "Yeah--you can go down it without a tube--it's not bad at all" I said, based solely on the one experience I had had and not accounting for the higher water levels in the least. (You see where this is going don't you?).

As I be-bopped along the lead up to the falls and started to realize that the current was much stronger than when I'd been there previously, it was too late to stop the momentum. We were going. Yes, I said "we". As I went over the falls, all I could think was "Oh shit". I tucked my head up again and just let it happen. It plunged me over the fall and immediately into what I now know is called a "plunge pool", where the weight of the water coming over the falls can keep you trapped if it's deep enough and the water flow is strong enough.

For just long enough to be terrified, it did keep me there, not knowing which way was up, feeling the water smashing down on top of me like it was going to roll me back into the rocks. After a moment, I was able to settle myself and determine where the surface was. I came up also thinking "Oh shit" and turning immediately around to catch the small child coming behind me.

Luckily, we all survived that day and no one was really any worse for the wear--nothing that a little snack couldn't remedy anyway. At some point I found myself inside the visitor's center for this particular state park and saw a sticker for the "Skull Crusher" and learned that it is a known formation along the river that is popular with kayakers. In fact, at its peak, the rapids are considered to be class 4 or 5 (expert level). I don't think I need the park rangers to point out the Skull Crusher for me.

I've also never done that again. Would I have done it in the first place, had I known it was called the Skull Crusher? I like to think not. Knowledge and experience have teamed up this time and I definitely won't do that again--at least not on purpose.

That river--and in fact, that particular spot is still my favorite place on earth. I'll go out and spend the day sitting in the smaller falls overlooking the Skull Crusher. The sound of the water rushing down the rocks and all around me is exhilarating --it literally drowns out the sounds of everything. You can feel the power of the water in your soul.

I think we all have Skull Crushers in our lives--things that have the potential to pull us under. Sometimes we don't recognize they are Skull Crushers until we've already jumped in and all we can do is our best to try to figure out which way is up.

And if we make it through that, and we can name that Skull Crusher, then we have the power to avoid being pulled under again--or to at least get an innertube or a kayak the next time.

In my spare time and as part of my own healing therapy, I paint. This is an original oil painting of my favorite place in the world. Looking out over The Skull Crusher.

I've made peace with the Skull Crusher. I've apologized for not taking her power seriously and thanked her for being easy on me. I like to think what we have now is a mutual respect, even though I know it's really just me knowing my place in her world.