21—30-й тесты. Английский язык. ЕГЭ. На базе материалов ФИПИ - стр. 5
After about a week and a half, Stewart had made it 90 miles. «I couldn’t believe I was still alive,» he admits. «It was pure luck.» His luck was about to change.
He had been dreading the huge rapids called Crystal. Rapids in the Grand Canyon are rated one to ten in degree of difficulty, ten being the meanest. Stewart began his attack by dodging an enormous whirlpool. Paddling frantically, he slipped past a wall of waves powerful enough to flip a boat twice the size of his, and skirted what one guide called a «raft-ripping rock.»
But he still wasn’t finished. There was a second half to navigate, a treacherous, boulder-strewn run euphemistically called the Rock Garden. To Stewart’s relief, he wove through it all without getting tipped over once.
Shortly afterward, the river took a sharp left turn where he had to negotiate a little set of white water, coincidentally called Willies Necktie. The danger here is the way the current drives boats into the crook of the turn on the right side. The way to avoid it is to stay on the left. Stewart knew that, but he dropped his guard, making a deadly mistake. He drifted right.
Before he could make the correction, his boat slammed into a boulder and flipped. Tons of rushing water pinned him against the canyon wall. He tried to do his Eskimo roll, but his right arm – the one he always used to pull himself up – was jammed against the rock. Somehow he had to get himself vertical using his prosthesis.
Stewart fought hard, pushing up again and again, each time getting a few gasps of air before being submerged. Exhausted, freezing, running out of room to breathe, he thought he had one more try left in him. Gathering his last bit of energy, he lunged for the surface. This time, his paddle blade caught just right, and he pulled himself upright.
After a little less than a minute, the current spun him around and slammed him into a rock. Before he’d even caught his breath, Stewart was underwater again. Luckily, this time someone saw him go down.
Timmy O’Neill was an experienced kayaker on his fifth Canyon run. He quickly paddled across the river to help, arriving just in time to see Stewart’s kayak pop to the surface. Several long seconds later, Stewart bobbed up. As he reached for O’Neill’s kayak, they were both sucked into a hole of churning water. Finally, the river spit them out, and Stewart discovered he had a new problem. His paddle, strapped to his prosthesis, was acting like an anchor, dragging him toward the next set of rapids. He had to decide: keep the arm and drown, or cut it loose. Frantic, he clawed at the tight straps, finally getting them free. Then he felt the current drag everything away. «My arm,» he gasped. It was gone.