craigdailypress.com

Drinks after work.

The company softball team.

Lunch with co-workers.

All are activities geared toward forming a strong, cohesive unit in the workplace -- at giving people better insight into the habits and personalities of the people with whom they work.

In no place is that as important as it is in an emergency situation where you have to size up in an instant the strengths, limitations and capabilities of your team members.

Forgive me as I stray from my usual topic of the joys and woes of parenthood and write this week about something a little farther from home.

About 60 miles to be exact.

I had the privilege -- and what an honor it was -- of accompanying a group of 21 rescue personnel as they made their way down the Yampa River testing their skills in extreme and, more than I could ever imagine, dangerous conditions.

For me, it was an opportunity to explore the far reaches of Moffat County so that I could speak with authority in response to the questions I field every day.

For them, it was an evaluation, a test and a lesson.

On Thursday, my biggest concern was what to pack when heading into uncertain weather where you're guaranteed to be soaking wet.

On Friday, my concerns became moot as I watched a group, many of them strangers even to each other, taking the first steps toward becoming a cohesive unit. It no longer mattered what I had, it was about what we had.

One night around a campfire, one day on the river and the bonds were already forming.

A night on the town, prefaced by a ritual of soap and makeup, hairspray and scents, will never forge the kind of relationships discovered sitting around a campfire, coated in sand, wearing ball caps and yesterday's shorts, barely dry after a pouring rain.

On day three, it was time to test what kind of unit we 22 had become as I jammed my foot under a rock and waited for rescuers to pull into sight so I could start screaming for help. My role was "hysterical victim."

I told them that I don't do hysterical well, so they amended it to "stubborn, pushy, belligerent victim." They seemed to have no question that I could pull that off.

I tell you, you get to know people pretty darn quick in close quarters and rustic living.

The team got high marks for communication, but more -- to my mind -- was learned by what wasn't said. The way every person had a job and each took that job seriously. In two days, 22 separate people from different agencies and walks of life became a team that quickly, efficiently and safely transferred a stubborn, pushy, belligerent victim and a non-responsive (though slightly ticklish) victim to safety.

Wow.

It turns out that, surprisingly, as a victim, I'm less prone to belligerence than I (or anyone else) would've thought. My actual response is silent fear and minor shock followed by extreme humor.

The next day tested my own skill on the river. Of course, my lack of any of the aforementioned skills gave the rest of the group a couple of opportunities to test theirs. I like to say I did it on purpose. I'd like it even more if someone would believe me.

I have to say the response was swift and efficient.

Thank God.

Riding the rapids is one thing. Feeling like the rocks are using you for their own personal kickball is another.

But never, never did I feel in any danger -- after all, I'd seen this team in action.

Coming home was hard. I wasn't ready for it to end, not just because of the incredible scenery, the adrenaline rush or the amazing food, but because of the camaraderie, the humor and the hopefully lasting friendships.

Thank you again Tim, Julie, Alec, Kathy J and ranger Kathy, Judy, Dusty, Laurie, Travis, Mark, Ron, Doug, Eva, Barry, Scott, John, Ed T., Laura, Tom, Bill and, of course, classic Ed.

You make a great team.