I was incredibly lucky growing up with the amount of exposure I received to the outdoors. Not only did my parents encourage both my brother and I to get outside every day and get muddy, but they took us on a river trip every summer, where nature was our playground.
You see, long before I was even a thought, my dad was living out his youth as a river guide on the Grand Canyon. For him, this was the purest form of being outdoors. Not only did you get to spend 21 days free of technology and contact from the outside world, but you were surrounded by the best of what Mother Nature has to offer: trees, canyons, water, and most of all, good friends. It was these same friends that ended up being my pseudo-parents down the line (though I didn’t realize their impact on me until much later). This quirky, loving group of individuals decided that the river had given so much to them in their years as guides that it was only right to pass this on to their own kids. And so began our annual river trips.
At 18 months old, I was napping in my crib at the front of the boat, and by three, I had my hands sternly on the oars, convinced I was in control -- despite the fact that I couldn’t even see over the bow. But I soon learned that my control was very limited in this environment, that there is an intense power and beauty that lies in water. While it can effortlessly flow around its obstacles, it can also turn a wooden boat over in a matter of seconds, and the first time you see this will be the last time you ever doubt its power. We would watch as the boatmen and women would scan the water, reading it as though it was their native language. Navigating rapids is an art, and still today, they are some of the most talented artists I have ever met.
Life on the water quickly becomes timeless. We rise with the sun and spend hours on the water, jumping in and out of the boats and swimming through rapids. Nights are filled with laughter, stories and the crackle of a well-kept fire. With so many kids on the trips, it was a rare moment that we were bored. And if we were bored, we clearly weren’t trying very hard. These kids quickly became my brothers and sisters and although we are not related by blood, these river trips have been more like family reunions than anything.
I can only hope that down the line I can offer the same opportunities to be outdoors to my kids, as my parents did for me. I attribute much of who I am today to the time spent on the river and around people who loved and accepted me in my entirety. In a world that is becoming increasingly digital, we are quickly losing sight of how important the world beneath our feet is. So go outside, hike a mountain, scrape your knees, and enjoy all that this beautiful Earth has to offer!
