Getting Schooled by Santa Elena

Down here in the Big Bend I ride with some pretty serious cyclists, all very strong and eager to hit the single-track. For most of them, however, cycling is what they do when they are not on the river. You see, the mighty Rio Grande runs through here(giving the region its name) and most of my posse are also seriously bad-ass white-water boaters. In fact, for most of them, it’s their first passion. Yup, I hang with some of the most highly respected boatmen(and women) in the United States. While I can keep with them all on the trails(oftentimes leading the charge), out on the river, I am a total newbie. This week, however, it was time for class, I was about to get schooled.

Now, what you need to understand is that my river experience is very limited. As a kid I farted around in a canoe with my dad on a lake. In recent years I’ve been on the Arkansas River in Colorado a couple of times in a raft guided by someone else. Here in Texas, two previous trips on the water is all I know; once in a canoe with Bobski, once in a duckie following behind Rebecca as she took a couple customers for a half-day trip. Certainly I’ve never rowed a raft. That was until this week.

Monday morning, myself and eight of these river guru’s put-in for an overnight Santa Elena trip. Three solo canoes and three rafts with two people per; I was in a raft with my dear friend, ‘Becca. It didn’t take long before she had me on the oars. Saturday was easy enough, mostly calm water, perfect for me to get used to being on the water, to start learning how the water behaves.

Tuesday I was back on the oars again. This time, however, the water was moving more quickly, the consequences of my decisions and actions much greater. Honestly, I can’t remember the last time I was this frustrated with myself.

Intellectually I knew what I needed to do, where I needed to be; I just couldn’t make happen, I just couldn’t get my boat there. Or, if I could, it was too late. I’d watch the others, try to follow their lead but instead would slam us into the only rock in the middle of the river. Becca would say things like “push with one oar, pull with the other.” Still getting used to simply pushing OR pulling with both oars, my brain couldn’t convert her instructions into actions; neither oar moved. We crashed into the canyon walls too many times to remember. I still can’t believe I didn’t destroy one of Becca’s carbon fibre oars. I would take a deep breath, try again, failing once more. It was so frustrating to be so utterly out of my element, nothing going as I wished it would. We agreed that Becca would negotiate us through the notorious Rock Slide, which she did with such aplomb. After that feature and a game of river-side petanque, we were at it again. Or rather, I was; smashing into canyon walls, drifting below river cain that could decapitate. More than just frustrated, I was getting angry and disappointed with myself. It didn’t help to have all these uber-capable boaters–all my dear friends–laughing as I flailed and failed. I breathed, calmed myself and eventually got us to the take-out.

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Getting out of our comfort zone is essential to really living life. Doing the same thing every day, taking the easy route, drifting along calm water keeps us sedate and out of touch. It’s when things get a little scary that we really come alive. It doesn’t have to be white-water, it could be a new routine, a new job or a new trail. The challenge–not the task–is what matters. That willingness to challenge oneself is what makes us able to deal with real adversity when it rears its ugly head.

Yes I was frustrated. Yes I smashed that raft into the canyon walls over and over again. Yes it sucked and I felt like such a pathetic amateur in front of my friends. But through the laughter and the mocking they all supported and encouraged me. While I am not much more of a boater than I was before the trip, I’m a better person for having accepted the challenge; because of the laughter, because of that poor smashed boat.

And you know what? I would do it all over again in a heart beat. Cuz that’s really living. And living is all we have.