Beavis & Butthead & the River Of No Return

Beavis & Butthead & The River Of No Return

The Wolf River has remained unchanged for hundreds of years, even if you go back to when the natives of this land whom we called “American Indians” settled in the Nicolet National Forest in Wisconsin. The river has supplied water and food to the area residents along with a quiet serene setting as you sit next to the small waterfalls contemplating life, and things to come.
The area has now taken on a new look over the past 35 years, as a new breed of explorers seeking adventure have placed their lives in the hands of the white water rapids that flow every spring. They are the river rafters, and have developed into a hardy breed through the years coming back each spring to challenge Mother Nature on a river that drops 430 feet over a course of 28 miles which makes this one of the fastest flowing rivers in Midwestern America.
My family and friends had the opportunity to do this very thing about twenty years ago, and it was so exhilarating that we turned it into several family outings in both the spring when the river is high and fast, and summer when the river was low but still offered a variety of things that were fun, and full of adventure.
In the spring we would squeeze into wetsuits, and travel down the river in rafts carrying from two to four people as we ventured over the 4-foot, and 5-foot water falls navigating the white water rapids along the way. Our group consisted of anywhere from fifteen to forty people from the novice to the very experienced, including some brave souls that did not even know how to swim. I remember one spring trip when the temperature outside was 60 degrees the water about forty degrees, and there was snow on the riverbanks. It was a beautiful sight as I stood in the middle of the river holding the raft waiting for everyone to catch up in the forty-degree water. The wet suits insulated you so well you did not feel the cold at all. Spring trips were always full of adventure, while the summer trips leisurely fun.
There was a summer trip (I think around 1996, or 1997) that had about twenty people including our good friend Deb who never learned how to swim. Her partner was our friend Joe who loved Deb as much as we did even though women were not his type. Joe is a great guy and made sure Deb enjoyed the trip. He treated Deb like she was his sister, and they got along really well, in fact you could hear them laughing (Joe) and screaming (Deb) all the way down the river.
It was about the middle point of the 6-hour trip when we came to a sharp bend in the river with fast rapids called the Otter Slide, where my friend Chuck and I pulled over to the side. I had told Deb that anytime we were going to go over a waterfall, or I saw some rough rapids I would pull over to the side, and wait for her and Joe, so Deb could get out of the raft until we were past the obstacle, and get back in the raft downstream for the rest of the trip.
When Joe pulled over I helped Deb out of the raft, and walked with her up to the top of the hill. From here you could see the river, and I told her we would pullout downstream after we went through the rapids. She said Ok as she made her way over to the little house on top of the hill that sold soda and hotdogs. The river runs through the Menominee Indian Reservation, and the stand was a way for the people living here to make a little money from the people rafting.
I went back to where my Chuck was holding the raft, and told Joe to try and follow us through the rapids then pull out on the left to pick up Deb. The rapids were not that long, and when we pulled out Deb was nowhere in sight. I climbed back up to the top of the hill thinking she might still be at the snack stand, but I did not see her anywhere. Asking the locals if anyone saw her they replied “no”. Joe had come up now to help me look, and we called her name for several minutes, but we could not find her.
I was very perplexed because the river where we got out was so close to where I left her standing I could not understand where she could have gone. I told Joe the only thing I could think of was that maybe she jumped into a raft with some of the people that were ahead of us since the group was scattered all up and down the river. We called out her name several more times, then continued down the river pulling over every once in a while to call her name, but still no Deb.
We now entered the part of the river where it became narrow as it went through a canyon with very steep walls on both sides. The river here had small drops in elevation as you went down the rushing waters between the 50-foot high cliffs. This was the most exciting part of the trip, but I could not enjoy it worrying about where Deb was. I could only think if Deb was in another raft that she might have had to go through this section screaming that she was going to drown. I happened to be the only one in the group that knew where to get out of the river to find the path to walk over and around the canyon back to the river.
Once we went through the first drop there was no turning back, --the river had us firmly in its grip as we bounced up and down almost slamming into the walls as the river turned sharply to the left. Our raft scraped against the wall while we ducked down to miss a rock ledge that was sticking out, then shot out of the canyon into a small lake.
Looking around we saw some members of our party that were just floating along waiting to re-group. I asked my friend Korey if he saw Deb as we paddled closer to his raft. He said he just saw her about five minutes ago. I asked “where”? He pointed to the cliffs on top of the canyon saying “on top of there”. I said “how did she get up there”? He said, “I don’t know, but she was by herself”.
I told Chuck and Joe “ we need to go over and find a place to get out so I can look for her”. Joe and I climbed up the steep hill to the path going back to the top that looks down into the canyon as we called Deb’s name, but we still could not find her. By the time we climbed back down to the river just about everyone in our party was together with the exception of three boats that we knew were way ahead of us. There were no other boats behind us from our party that might have picked up Deb, so I said, “we can’t just wait here all day not knowing where she went”. Our only hope is that she gets in with people in another raft, and meets us at the end.
All the way down the river I was worried about what had happened to Deb. By the time we went over the 6 ft. waterfall called Smokey Falls at the end I was glad it was over, so I could find out what happened to Deb. It was a real relief when I saw her standing on the bank where we pulled out of the river. I went over to Deb, and asked her where she had gone?
She told me after I left her by the rapids she went over to check out the concession stand, and when she started to walk back there was a sign that said To The River, so she followed the path until she arrived a the cliff where Korey saw her. When she saw how far it was down to the river she went back the way she came. Halfway through the woods she started crying thinking she was going to be eaten by a bear.
After she made her way back the 1-1/2 miles to the concession stand she asked someone to help her, and three guys from the reservation offered her a ride to where we would get out of the river. She got into the pick-up truck with them then started to think the worst, as she thought she might be raped or killed and no one would know it.
I told her “Deb you did not have to worry; if anything they probably thought you were a little crazy”. She said, “ What do you mean”? I said you came out of the woods crying talking about getting eaten by a bear with a plastic shower cap on your head. (She had worn a shower cap in the raft to keep her hair from getting wet, and forgot she had it on) Everyone laughed, and she said now she understood why the Indians were staring at her, they probably thought she was a lunatic. To this day everyone still laughs when we bring up Deb rafting with her shower cap.

Beavis & Butthead

There was another big rafting trip on the mighty Wolf River that caused me a lot of concern. (1992) We had a group of over twenty-five people, only this time my son Eric who was about 16 brought his two friends he called Beavis and Butthead, because they reminded everyone of the cartoon characters.
This was the first time they had been rafting, and I asked them if they wanted to split up and go with someone experienced? They said no because they had been on canoe trips before, and said they knew what they were doing. My first mistake was letting them go together and the second was not making them go in the first raft. They launched their raft in the middle of the pack, and then kept fooling around along the way until they fell behind the group.
When I reached the end of the trip we waited for our entire group to get together for the one-hour trip back to the hotel. Those who had driven themselves started to head back while I waited for the people who were riding with me. Normally the group would be separated by no more than an hour, but after waiting for 1-1/2 hours for Beavis and Butthead, and talking to people it sounded like they pulled off some where on the river for some reason. I said I would take the people in our group back to the hotel, and then come back for the last two kids. Chuck came back with me, and by now it was 4 hours since our group came off the river, and still there was no sign of the kids. I started to panic thinking maybe something might have happened since two years ago two kids went down a closed part of the river over a waterfall and had died.
Chuck and I waited at the rafting place called Shot Gun Eddy’s where we started our adventure as the last bus pulled in with the last group. It was after 8:00 p.m. and if they were not on this bus I did not know what we were going to do. Sure enough, Beavis and Butthead were the last ones off the bus. I asked them “What happened to you guys; everyone else was off the river hours ago”? They told me they lost the 4-inch thick pad out of the raft when it turned over, and then they lost a paddle, so they pulled out onto an island in the middle of the river where they waited until it started to get dark. I said, “What were you waiting for Air Sea Rescue. You were on a river; no one is coming to rescue you”.
They said they told one of the rafts going by they lost a paddle. I said “Even if they wanted to send a raft down the river to look for you it was a six hour trip”, and they would have had to start at 1:00 p.m. to get down before dark. You were at the end of our group so there wouldn’t be anyone else coming down that you would know, so what were you waiting for? “They said they did not know”. Sitting on the island the mosquitoes were eating them alive when some people came by telling them to get into their raft before it was too dark, and they pulled their raft behind them. The last part was scary going over Smokey Falls in the dark, but they had fun.
I told them because we checked in so late the night before I did not think they knew the name of the motel or how to get a hold of us. It was then they said something that was very apropos,
“What do you think we are stupid”?
As angry as I was thinking this was my entire fault, I looked at Chuck and laughed saying “Why would you think that”?
Thanks to Beavis and Butthead they gave me the scare of my life. From that day on I always tried to make sure everyone had a reliable partner, and tried to keep my raft at the end of the group, or let someone I trusted bring up the rear. I do not think I am ready for another Beavis & Butthead adventure.

Robert L. Murdoch 04/07/09