Looking Forward to and Chapter 3!

 

 

Today I am grateful for things to look forward to!

I love having things to look forward to--especially things for my kids to look forward to.  This month we have so many fun things!  Just to name a few--a mission call for Jax, celebrating Baby Kevin's 6 month birthday, Aunt Megan, Uncle Bobby and Aunt Steph and their family coming for Thanksgiving, Thanksgiving at the family cabin, and I get to see Daryl Hoole speak for the first time (she had retired from public speaking when I first met her a couple of years ago but she's being honored by the School of Family Life at BYU and will speak on the topic The Home: An Apprentice Shop for Children).

 

 

(Going to the dentist is not something we look forward to)

 



Emmy and Haley spent the evening painting their dirty white shoes into very cute colorful ones.  I'll post a before and after when they finish them.

 

 

For the 5 of you who read the first 2 chapters of Kevin's book here is chapter 3!

 



 

3

 

I am a freediver.  Not the kind of diver that jumps off a diving board, but one that tries to dive as deep as he can without the aid of special equipment.  I learned early on that I can hold my breath for a really long time.  When I was a baby, my mom said that I would hold my breath until she thought I would pass out.  A while back, I was watching a TV program where a man was going for the world record as a freediver.  He did some really weird breathing exercises and then went straight down, 288 feet without using fins or anything. 

I already liked to swim and I figured maybe this was something I could do.  I started at a local swimming pool and, sure enough, I got better and better.  The swimming pool at the high school was 12 feet deep and in no time at all, I was diving down and staying down for quite a long time (much to the dismay of the life guard on duty).  Not long after, I started looking for deeper places to dive.  The deepest I could find was the fitness center next to the Olympic oval.  That pool was 20 feet deep and it didn’t take long for me to master that depth either. 

Then something unexpected happened.   One night, my mom was sitting next to the pool reading her book, trying to take her mind off of me sitting on the bottom, when a man walked up to her and said he couldn’t help but notice that her son was keeping the life guard on pins and needles.  They started talking and he told her that there was a name for what I was doing.  It’s called “static apnea.”  He said that he was impressed with how long I was able to stay under and thought I might like to be able to go deeper.  She told him we had checked everywhere in the valley and this was the deepest pool that we could find.  That’s when he informed her about the Homestead Crater in Midway.  Midway is about an hour’s drive up the canyon east of our home in Salt Lake City.  He said that’s where all the local scuba enthusiasts go since we don’t live next to the ocean.  The crater is 65 feet deep and the water is crystal clear. Better yet, the water temperature is between 90 and 96 degrees, year-round.  That’s a big deal since we have snow on the ground six months out of the year. 

When I ascended from the bottom, the man introduced himself to me and rehearsed everything he had told my mom.  Needless to say, I was on my mom night and day until she took me up there to try it out.  After she couldn’t take my badgering any longer, we made the hour-long drive to Midway for my first crater dive.

The drive to Midway is an enjoyable one.  We spend most of the time on the way there in a big canyon in the mountains. My favorite thing about driving in the canyon is seeing all the wildlife. Sometimes I can see an eagle soaring high on the mountain breezes and other times I see herds of deer and elk. Heck, one time we even saw a big bull moose run right across the road in front of us, I may or may not have even heard a bad word slip out of my mom’s mouth that time. I reached over and turned on the seat warmer and laid my chair back and began to think about the first time me and my mom went to Midway. I remember as we approached the big dome-shaped hill, I started to question how this was all going to work.  We checked in at the dive shop and were directed back outside.  A rusty metal door lead to a tunnel they had made through the hillside to get to the water.  I peeled the door back, anxious to get inside.  A long, rocky corridor was lined with florescent lights and exposed wiring.  Makeshift lockers had been placed along the hall. I found an empty one and threw in my bag.  Further on down, a makeshift staging area had been burrowed out where they stored most of their dive equipment.  I bypassed that and quickly emerged on to a platform.  I looked up and discovered we were in a huge natural dome.  There was a gaping hole in the middle of the ceiling that allowed me to see directly through to the sky.

I turned my attention back to the dock and saw they had built some wooden seats so you can sit in the water up to your chest and get ready for your dive.  I slithered down and found a seat on the end where I wouldn’t disturb the other divers.  I was a bit intimidated at first, and the warmer water took some getting used to, but before long, I secured my dive mask and left the protection of the dock and started my descent.

I was amazed at how clear the water was.  I could see a platform attached to the wall that said it was 15 feet deep.  I swam over and held onto the edge and looked down.  There was another platform beneath me in the water but it looked way too deep.  I would need to work up to that.

Excited by this new world I had been exposed to, I rushed back to the surface for some more air.  My mom had made her way in to check on me and asked if I was alright.

“This is the coolest thing I have ever done!” I exclaimed.

“Well, be careful,” she said. “Don’t overdo it your first time.”

“Will you go find out how deep the second platform is?” I asked.

“Sure.”

I eagerly dipped back below the surface and made it to the first platform in no time at all.  I decided to see how close I could get to the second one.  I could see other divers off to one side, but they all had air tanks.

“Sissies,” I thought to myself.

I got down as far as I dared go and estimated my depth to be somewhere between 25 and 30 feet deep, still not far enough to make it to that second platform though.  When I cleared the surface, my mom told me the second platform is 35 feet deep.

“Sounds about right,” I said.

“Did you see the hanging wagon wheel?” she asked like she really knew something about what was going on down there.

“Nope, I’ll have to keep my eyes open for that,” I replied.

We could only get up there about once a month after that and that made it tough.  My mom always held it over my head to make sure I kept up on my school work.  Bad grades meant no diving.  One time, as we were checking in at the dive shop, the owner Mike said he had been reading online about what I do and thought that I could enter competitions.  He said what I’d been practicing is called “constant weight apnea, without fins.”  He says there is a competition every year in Dean’s Blue Hole in the Bahamas.  Well that may as well have been on the moon for all I cared because there is no way my mom would ever let me go all the way to the Bahamas to compete.

Since that first trip I have been to the crater tons of times and this time we were almost there when my mom said we weren’t going to be able to stay as long as we normally do because it was supposed to storm and she didn’t want to be driving in the canyon when it did.

I walked through the shop and yelled hello to Mike who was back in his office.  I went in the locker room and got changed into my swimsuit.  Before I knew it, I had slipped into the warm water and was on my way down.  My goal, as always, was to get below my best depth.  As I slowly descended, concentrating on minimizing the movements of my body, my mind started to wander back to my visit with grandpa.  I thought about Robbers Roost and imagined myself being a member of The Wild Bunch gang.  I thought about how exciting it would be to find the money and how proud my grandpa would be.  It was then that I remembered grandpa had said he was going to “show me something very important to my success.” He had said, “without this, my search would be fruitless." But then he got interrupted and he never told me what it was.  I tried to think if there was any way to get back to the hospital so he could show me what it was.  Wait a minute, I thought, if he could “show me,” that must mean that what I need is already on that map.  I’ll have to look at it closer when I get home.

I can’t decide if being distracted while free diving is a good thing or a bad thing.  When I quit daydreaming about lost treasure, I soon realized that I had eclipsed my 35 foot mark.  I was somewhere in the 40 foot range but I had lost track and wasn’t sure if I had enough oxygen in my lungs to get back to the surface.  Panic set in and that is the number one rule of what not to do when free diving. 

I kicked my legs a little harder and more deliberately than usual.  I could feel the burning sensation start to penetrate my lungs; my heartbeat was pounding in my ears.  The normally beautiful, light blue surface seemed like it wasn’t getting any closer and for the first time, I became disoriented, not able to discern which way was up.  Choking, I fought the survival instinct to take a breath.  How could I have let this happen?  I began flailing my arms, desperately trying to increase my speed to the top, the weight of the water squeezing my lungs even smaller when...I finally broke the surface.  Gasping for air, I floated on my back, all the while moving closer to the platform.  What seemed like a lifetime of being unable to breathe was only a matter of a few extra seconds.  I pulled myself up out of the water and onto the makeshift dock.  It was then that I realized no one even knew I was in trouble.  

A sharp pain penetrated my head and it took a minute to get my bearings.  This was one of the worst headaches I had ever had.  I stumbled to my locker and clumsily changed back into my street clothes.  I went and sat down on some surplus lifejackets Mike kept with some of the dive equipment.  Ironic, I thought.  I sure could've used one of these a few minutes ago.  I hung out there as long as I could, my head still pounding.  My mom wouldn't be expecting me for another half-hour or so and if she found out what just happened, there is no way she would let me keep diving.  Finally, when I couldn't take the excruciating pain one second longer, I tracked down my mom who was glued to the TV, watching the approaching storm on the news.

“Let’s go,” I demanded.

“Good idea,” said mom. “How was your dive?” she asked cheerfully.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I grumbled, reaching for my headphones. “You don’t happen to have any aspirin do you?”

She fished through her purse and produced two lifesaving pills. "You okay?” she asked.  "You look a little blue."

"Must be coming down with something," I lied.  I quickly swallowed the pills and headed for the car.  After mom got in, she reached for my forehead, expecting a fever. 

"You’re ice cold!" she exclaimed.  "Are you sure nothing happened in there?" 

I wanted to explain to her that I was seconds away from being a corpse but I knew that would blow up in my face. 

"Can we just get on the road please?" I demanded.  I sat back in my seat and closed my eyes.  I slept most of the way home.  Mom nudged me awake as she parked the car and told me to get in the house.  I found my way downstairs to my room and collapsed on my bed, my mind trying to sort through the events of the day.