The descent of a River
You may have heard some of the world’s great myths of underworld descent, of katabasis, the stories of leaving all that is known, entering a realm of darkness and death, being stripped of worldy possessions and powers, undergoing trials, and eventually emerging with some boon for those above. Myths like those of Inanna, Gilgamesh, Persephone, Orpheus, the Mayan Hero Twins. When I seek a resonant archetype for the underworld journey, however, the story that grabs me the most is that not of a human or human-like divinity, but that of a river.
The Middle Popo Agie River (pronounced puh-POH-zhuh, from the Crow language) is a gentle, unassuming body of water as it meanders through Lander, Wyoming. You wouldn’t know on first glance that it is a river emerging from a very strange journey. The waters begin as snowmelt in the heights of the Wind River Range, a rugged land of glaciers and grizzlies and moose. They gather and gain speed and plunge down the mountains into the valley and through Sinks Canyon State Park. The river feels playful as it bounces by the waterside campsites in the sun, happily on course. It’s a substantial flow that requires a degree of caution and respect, the waters cold and swift and at places deep. The park has provided a solid bridge to provide passage to the opposite bank, as it’s not a stream for casual wading.
It is jarring to see the river quite suddenly, enthusiastically even, take a dive straight into the mouth of a limestone cave. It’s possible to walk down the embankment and hear the roar, watch as the waters leave the expansiveness of the sunlit mountains and enter the darkness. And then the Middle Popo Agie River simply disappears. Spelunkers have tried to follow the caves down, but the passages almost immediately become too narrow to follow.
About a quarter mile downstream, there is a deep, clear, still pool filled with trout. Geological studies using tracking dye reveal that it takes up to four hours for the waters that descend into the cave to emerge into the stillness of the pool. Exactly what happens in the underworld no one can say. It’s clear, though that the rushing river comes undone. The waters slow and seep and wind their way through rock and earth. Rivulets leave their companions and are drawn along their own paths.
Somehow, as it happens, the Way knows the Way, and the waters find passage back up to the surface. But the river that comes up is not the same that plunged down. It rises calmer, warmer, and more full. More water comes up than descended; somehow traveling companions were found down there in the underneath, and they rise together. “The Rise” as the trout-filled pool is called, feels more mature somehow than the river plunging through the mountains. These are waters that have seen things; waters that are settled now and ready to nourish life. The river pours forth from the pool and continues the path down toward Lander.