The ocean is home. I am lucky that I am able to say “I grew up in a beach town.” My summers prior to college were spent tide-pooling, frying in the sun (thank you pale skin), boogie-boarding, and diving head first into the ice cold waves of the Atlantic. The issue of a hot day could be solved simply by a trip to the Harbor. If you were extra adventurous (and wanted to dabble with the tourists), you’d head down to Long Sands. When I was younger, I liked to float in the water and let the waves push me to shore. Though the tides change, the beach has always been a constant in my life.
In August, when I left for college in landlocked Utah, I wasn’t really worried about missing the Atlantic. At school, I am so busy that I don’t have time to miss the ocean. Between my class and work schedules, free time is also hard to come by. When a block of free time makes a surprise appearance in my schedule, it is immediately filled by climbing, skiing, or snowboarding (depending on the season).
The end of the school year snuck up on me in April, while I was busy grinding out finals and preparing for my May Term trip. I was faced with the predicament that many college students before me have faced: go home to the ocean, or stay in Salt Lake. Despite having job opportunities in both places, my new addiction to stepping out of my comfort zone made me decide to stay in Salt Lake for the summer. Don’t get me wrong, I am comfortable living here, but in the back of my mind the decision made me extremely uncomfortable. This would be my first summer in 20 years without an ocean.
What happens when it gets obscenely hot outside? Where is the body of water I can jump into? What if I get…BORED!?
I came to the conclusion that I was going to have to learn how to be a literal fish out of water. No school meant copious amounts of free time: time that I’d usually spend on the water, but not this year. I would be able to climb, but no amount of chalk or strength can keep sweaty hands from slipping off an overhang in the 100º high desert heat.
On the last day of my May Term trip, I found water in the desert. We spent the day rafting the San Juan River, and it made me realize that even though Utah is a dry, landlocked state, it’s not completely dry. There are plenty of rivers in my home state that I have spent time in before, but given the choice I’d always choose the ocean. Rafting the San Juan seemed to temporarily cure my everlasting longing for the ocean. At one point of the trip, we were given a chance to swim/float down a (almost) Class 1 rapid. It seemed terrifying, but the action of letting go, floating, and letting the river guide you was quite symbolic. *Disclaimer this part is corny*
I realized that though I am without the ocean this summer, there are plenty of rivers to float down and explore. Floating down the river was not only relaxing, but it gave me another chance to appreciate Utah’s natural beauty. Enlightened, I concluded that I will not be bored, and I will not be a fish out of water. Rivers and oceans both have the same refreshing, therapeutic abilities. Floating is like a giant metaphor for life. While floating the Provo River today, I got stuck a few times, and hit a few rocks, but the most enjoyable parts happened when I let the river guide me. Don’t fight the current. Jump into the water, and let it take you to beautiful places.
