How to Ford a Stream

While fly fishing the Esopus River in New York state recently I came upon an angler stuck braced and leaning hard in the current in the center of the stream. He was wearing waders and below him was a deep pool. If he slipped--and he was doing all he could to keep his footing--he would go into that deep water and his waders would fill and I might not be able to save him.

I ripped down a sapling and waded into the current. I held the green wood to him and he took the sapling in his left hand and carefully, slowly, with me holding the other end made it across.

When he was across and sitting splayed on a rock, I asked what he was thinking.

"I just forgot about water," he said.

I nodded and realized I have had to learn about the power of water, too.

I recalled that in Jon Krakauer’s book Into the Wild records the last days of Chris McCandless, a young man who, in April 1992, hitchhiked to Alaska and walked alone into the wilderness north of Mount McKinley after giving $25,000 in savings to a charity, abandoning his car, and burning his cash. Four months later, his body was found. McCandless is thought to have starved to death because he couldn’t ford a raging river for help.

            Here’s what he could have done: Water that moves at seven miles per hour carries over a hundred pounds of pressure per square foot; as a result, it doesn’t take white water to wash you to your death. Water temperatures below 72 degrees Fahrenheit are too cold for a person to stay warm in by swimming. So McCandless was right to be cautious; however, if the terrain is mountainous, as it was for McCandless, following a stream upriver will find tributaries that split and reduce a stream’s size. Following a river downstream is more likely to lead to civilization. River’s also can rise and fall quickly after a storm (sometimes a storm upstream), so it’s wise to cross when you can. Natural crossings, such as downed trees, boulders, riffles at the end of pools, and so on offer ways across.

I mentioned this book to the man I had helped and he laughed and said he had read the book and he still made this almost fatal mistake.

"Well, we are men," I said.