My father, mother, wife, and I almost died over the weekend. We were in Arkansas, east of Fort Smith, on the Mulberry river floating. It started raining and apparently a tree had fallen across the river while we were going down it, because no one before us had difficulty. We hit the tree in our canoe (My father, wife and I, that is.) And the canoe rolled, pushing my wife and father under the tree into the strong current. I got pinned against the tree, under water but upright and near the surface. They grabbed the swamped canoe and started paddling to get out of the rapids we were in, and I scrambled up and over the canoe to jump in after them. We made it to shore, but we lost a paddle and I almost lost my shoes.
Then we had to walk through dense blackberry brambles and thornbushes that cause severe itching and swelling to get to an abandoned church by a cemetary, where my dad walked alone from there on to get the van and load up our canoe. Sound like a horror movie yet? It gets better.
This goes by without difficulty and we go back to camp, and it's still raining. We're five feet above the water level. After a couple hours, I lay down to go to sleep in my tent with my wife, and within thirty minutes my mother calls to us and says, "The water went up a foot in thirty minutes. We have to go now."
So we loaded up the tents into our trailer, and we all got sopping wet and muddy and insect bitten. Then we drove home, having survived. My wife hit her head pretty good when the canoe rolled, but that was the only real injury sustained. Rough weekend but it ended okay.