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Forgot to mention this, but my river name is One Chain.


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Every time Zach Edler sets out on a rafting trip — out on the water for days, away from phones, an internet connection and the rest of the world — the question comes up.

“Somebody would always joke and say, ‘What if we come back to a world where nothing is the same?’” Mr. Edler told me recently. “Of course, it never happens. Except for this time. This time it did.”

On Feb. 19, Mr. Edler, 27, and more than a dozen others set out for a 25-day adventure: rafting the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon — a trip so coveted it requires a permit won through a lottery. When they left, President Trump had recently granted clemency to Rod Blagojevich, the disgraced former Illinois governor, and Bernie Sanders had a double-digit polling lead heading into that night’s Democratic debate in Las Vegas. Cases of the coronavirus were showing signs of decline in mainland China and the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention issued its first Level 1 travel notices — “practice usual precautions” for travelers heading to Hong Kong and Japan.

 
 

By last Saturday, March 14, as they took the last paddle strokes of their journey, Mr. Edler and his friends were some of the last people on the planet unaware that the novel coronavirus had exploded into a once-in-a-generation pandemic, setting off a global health and economic crisis and shutting down large parts of American life. In moments, the man waving to them from the banks of the river would tell them that the world they were returning to looked vastly different.

 
 

As they pulled their rafts out of the Colorado, they were met by a man named Blane, who worked for a rafting company out of Flagstaff, Ariz. He had one question: Have you been in contact with the outside world? They hadn’t. Aside from a few one-way text messages sent to family on a satellite phone, the friends hadn’t heard anything in more than three weeks. No cell service. No news. Not even a passing dispatch from fellow travelers.

ImageMr. Edler and his friends were some of the last people on the planet unaware that the novel coronavirus had exploded into a once-in-a-generation pandemic.
Mr. Edler and his friends were some of the last people on the planet unaware that the novel coronavirus had exploded into a once-in-a-generation pandemic.Credit...Tyler Whitcomb

“He gave us a look, sighed, and then launched into it,” Mr. Edler said.

Since they’d left, the coronavirus exploded in the United States and around the world, he told the group. Italy was under lockdown. The stock market was plummeting. Professional sports were suspended. Many schools were closed indefinitely. Infections were growing exponentially. Tom Hanks had it.

“Half of us thought he was joking,” Mr. Edler said. “It’s like, here’s an old river guide pulling our leg. I mean, I’ve heard some pretty big tales out on the river.”

 
 

Others in the group weren’t so sure. “I think the girls believed it right away,” said Sarah Knaack, a nurse. “He said it in this real ominous way but then he just walked away to see about lunch and we were left nervously joking with ourselves totally unsure what was going on.”

 

A few of the rafters joked that they should just turn around and do the trip again. Somebody quipped that staying in the canyon was the safest course of action.

Mason Thomas, 29, said he’d been monitoring the spread of the virus before he left. “The last thing I thought before I got into the canyon was: ‘Well, I can’t do anything about it. Maybe it won’t be there when I get back,’” he said. “I figured if it was bad maybe we’d just all be washing our hands even more or something more serious. But not this.”

For the rest of us who’ve followed the news of the pandemic as it’s swept across the globe, the experience is like tracking a hurricane and bracing for landfall. There’s a feeling of powerlessness accompanied by anxiety that ratchets up day by day. For the rafters, that stress and confusion and helplessness was compressed into an instant — and in a way, somehow both more and less intense. It’s left me wondering, if given the chance, would I trade places?

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Mr. Edler drying out his gear after his trip on the Colorado River.Credit...Max Whittaker for The New York Times

After they got out of the river on Saturday, the group packed up their rafts and gear quietly and got in their vans to drive out. Purposely, they kept the radio off, wanting to extend the blissful ignorance of the trip a little bit longer. Ninety minutes later, they picked up a cell signal. That’s when the texts poured in.

“The first one was from my mom,” Mr. Thomas said. “It was like, ‘You need to text me the second you get this. The world is going crazy.’ She’s immunocompromised so I was definitely worried.”

 
 

Another rafter’s family texted that the supermarket shelves in California were bare and urged the group to stock up on rice, beans, dog food and toilet paper. “We’re sitting here trying to piece the world together,” Mr. Thomas said. “What does a toilet paper shortage mean? Why are they out of toilet paper?”

“It was this feeling of disbelief,” Ms. Knaack added. “It’s like, ‘How’d we go from paradise to hoarding rice and beans?’” Another rafter searched Amazon by phone for toilet paper and saw that it wasn’t available. “That was a moment where it felt pretty real,” she said.

The group stopped at an In-N-Out Burger in Kingman, Ariz., and called family members.

“It’s just like this whirlwind of information,” Mr. Edler said. “You’re overwhelmed being in public for the first time and then you have this virus to think about. I’m standing in line for a burger and looking around thinking, ‘So, is it here right now?’”

Huddled in an Arizona hotel Saturday night, the group tried to hang on to the last hours of the vacation. Most didn’t look at the news, hanging out with one another instead. But reality crept in. “The lady at the hotel was like, ‘We have toilet paper; just don’t steal it.’ And the TV was showing some sports game from the ’80s or something and it was this reminder that, ‘Oh, everything’s canceled,’” Ms. Knaack said.

Re-entry has proved surreal for the rafters. When Mr. Edler went to pick up his mail, he discovered that most places besides the post office were closed. The supermarket was mostly out of meat. Since he’s a raft guide and part-time elementary-school teacher, his summer guiding and fall teaching plans are up in the air. Ms. Knaack is preparing to head back into a health care system strained by the epidemic. “I suppose it’s good that I got a vacation in,” she said.

Mr. Thomas, now back in California, continues to worry about the health of his family and an uncertain future. “I’ve tried to stay away from the full fire hose of news,” he told me on Monday evening. “I’ve been texting with Zach and our buddy Stretch about how this has been a total mind-bender. I’d really love to be back in that canyon right now.” (Shortly after our interview, Mr. Thomas texted me with a request: “Forgot to mention this, but my river name is One Chain. If it’s at all appropriate to mention that, that would be tight.”)

Listening to the rafters describe their confusion, I feel almost envious of them. As we’ve prepared for the outbreak, one of the hardest parts has been figuring out how to process what will be our new normal. It’s an endless series of hard choices. How much to pay attention to the news, how much to ignore it. How much to be hopeful. How much to fear. For weeks, the rafters didn’t have to make those choices. And they appear grateful.

 
 

“It would be worse to have been sitting and stewing in it,” Mr. Thomas said.

“There was probably less overall stress and worry this way,” Ms. Knaack agreed.

“We rafted the Grand Canyon, so there are no regrets at all,” Mr. Edler said. “Some people wouldn’t like this but I loved that blissful ignorance. It allows you to enjoy the beauty of life.” For him, the last week was the rarest form of adventure — precious stolen days to postpone a dire reality.

“We had so much fun. We lived in the moment. We were some of the only people in the world who had no idea. I liked it better then.”

 

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