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The river’s most perilous obstruction, the low-head dam, is a wall-like structure just below the surface. As water flows over it and drops, a backwash is created, trapping anything that floats. Even small low-head dams can become brutal death traps when river levels are high.

In this case the river surely was high, and the low-head was producing a class II rapid, with standing waves the size of sports cars.

I knew enough to avoid it, but Kocher encouraged us to run the dam. “This is way smaller than anything you’ll see on the Hayes,” he said. “You need the practice.”

Due in equal parts to Kocher’s ill-conceived encouragement and to laziness, I decided to run the rapid rather than portage our overloaded canoe. Kocher grabbed the food barrel and a pack, and stood on land taking photos as we paddled back from the dam.

José twisted and winced. “We really gonna do this, dawg?”

I hadn’t run a rapid of any consequence since I was 16 years old, paddling the Ogoki River in northern Ontario. All I had for José was baseless bravado. “We’ll get through it,” I said, “just paddle.”