Challenge and camaraderie in the West Virginia wilderness. JENNIFER FINER STAFF WRITER IIIIIIIII CID LU LU }-- CD CC F- LIJ 1:7] LU 32 Most of us felt a Jewish connectedness to our fellow adventurers. While many of us had never met before, we shared some of the same experiences. This was most ev- ident when we sat around a campfire, singing Hebrew songs mixed in with tunes by James Taylor and other popular artists. The next day, Saturday, we divided into groups. Some of us went rock climbing and rappelling. Others chose hiking or mountain-biking. Those of us who climbed had a spectacular view of the river. From 1,000 feet up, we could see ant- sized rafts in the current. If you listened closely, you could hear the screams from the rafters below. We also had a spectacular view of some of the tree- covered mountains on the other side of the river. While climbing and rappelling are individual and not team sports, we made it into a group effort as we cheered for each successful climb or rappel. I was one of the last people to rappel down the side of the 240- foot cliff I almost didn't go. My friend Dave — we just met a few hours before — went last. "Tllgo if you go," we said to each other. I was scared. OK, terrified. You couldn't see over the cliff, mak- ing it that much more terrifying. My friend Randi went before us. As she began her descent, I put on a harness. It was too late to back out. Randi reached the ground and the guide then pulled the rope back up. "I don't think I want to do this," I said. Actually, I really wanted to do it. It was a once-in- a-lifetime opportunity that was safer than it looked. Still, I was scared. People I really didn't know were telling me how much fun they had and that I shouldn't be afraid. The ropes were connected to my harness and I began leaning back and taking small backwards steps down the slope. The rock under my feet came to an end and I hung there. Slowly I moved the rope through my hands, trying to take in as much of the scenery as I could. I heard Randi talking to me, but I couldn't see her. My only view was the tops of trees, the rock formation several feet in front of me and the river in the distance. The whole descent took a few minutes and the ground under my Many of the feet felt great. And other experi- climbers braved the 240 foot ences were yet to come. rappel. We woke up the next morning - to do what we all went to West Virginia to do — raft- ing. We put our eight rafts into the water mid-morning on Sunday and headed down the river. The first several miles seemed like a combination of smooth, slow-mov- ing water, great for canoeing, and a choppy day on Lake St. Clair. Where were the rapids, we wondered, and was it too late to turn around? PHOTO BY J ENN IFER FINER he image of over 80 young Jewish adults spending a long weekend camping, hiking, white-water rafting and moun- tain-biking in West Virginia seemed a little strange. I hate to perpetuate stereotypes, but I really was having a hard time picturing it. To my surprise, veteran and novice campers successfully conquered Memorial Day weekend in the great outdoors, loving every minute. We were given the option of sleeping in a tent or spend- ing our nights in a hotel room. One person chose the ho- tel and by the third night he, too, was out under the stars. For many of us, this was a weekend of adventure, self- discovery and new friendships. A colleague of mine asked if there was anything Jew- ish about the trip. I told her about how certain activi- ties can make one religious. Taking backwards steps off a 240-foot cliff, connected only to a harness and a few ropes, then rappelling the rest of the way down seemed to be a good time to pray. So was pulling our rafts over for an optional 15-foot jump off a boulder called Jump Rock and riding a Class V rapid charac- terized as "exceedingly difficult, long, and violent rapids following each other without interruption; riverbend extremely obstructed; big drops; violent currents; very steep gradient." These types of activities can instantly make anyone religious. Many of us definitely prayed a lot and won- dered if we should recite the Sh'ma. Actually, in all seriousness, the trip did have Jewish content. It was evident at the beginning. After we set up tents, probably 20 or more, it was time for Shabbat. Most people don't get to experience a Friday night Shabbat dinner under the stars or an outdoor Shabbat and Havdalah service. Here we were, more than 80 of us dazed from a 10- hour bus ride and anticipating an exciting weekend, sit- ting outside reciting the Sabbath blessings and coming together for an unconventional Friday night dinner in the West Virginia wilderness. The cooks prepared the chicken, the soup and the rest of the meal. We sat at our campsite's picnic tables, which were covered in white plastic tablecloths, and ate off pa- per plates.