On Friday, August 12, I not only moved into a college four hours from where I live, but also left the joys and sorrows of civilization for a glorious five-day canoe trip down the Susquehanna river in central Pennsylvania. Being a fairly outdoors-y person, I figured I was ready for anything that my leaders (or Mother Nature herself) could throw at me. Before we departed, the senior leaders involved with the program had a chance to share their experiences with Buckwild and their hopes for us as this year's participants. One phrase that really stuck with me was this, "Be comfortable with the uncomfortable." This turned out to be both a warning and a challenge.
The first day, my crew of six other first year students and three upperclassmen leaders headed out on the good old 'Susie-Q' for a 10-mile paddle to our first campsite. Tasked with the job of navigator, I was in charge of getting us to the island we would call home for the night. Already nervous about navigating, my task only complicated when I was put in the back seat of the canoe I shared with one of the leaders. After ample struggle steering and much complaining, we finally made it to our campsite. I had stuck it out in the back for the entire second half of the day's paddle and was exhausted. However, my leader said something to me which changed my perspective, "At Bucknell, you'll find things that frustrate you and it's important to not give up." I went from complaining about the situation to rejoicing at my perseverance through it. As I enter into college life, I know that this philosophy will motivate me through the difficult times.
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After an excruciating 20-mile paddle through rain one day, we came to find our planned campsite already occupied and were forced to paddle even farther downstream. Wet, tired and certainly uncomfortable, I simply wanted to be alone. During my baby-wipe shower, another leader came to my tent to ask if I was OK. Brushing off her concern, I had said yes and continued to marinate on how much I wanted to be back in my cozy new dorm room. I eventually decided to join the rest of the group and plopped down in soggy clothes around the stove.
Despite my somewhat lengthy absence, I was immediately welcomed back into the conversation (we were discussing earth-benders, so it was super important stuff). As we joked and laughed, I realized that everyone around me was also wet and tired, yet they were still having fun. They were comfortable in the uncomfortable and I wanted to be, too. I spent the rest of that night laughing with my crew and dismissing every miserable thought in my mind. Despite my earlier dismay, I went to sleep that night in high spirits and excited for the next leg of the trip.
The next day was nothing but fun on the water. We paddled 15 miles, stopping for lunch and a few swims along the way. However, the day turned for the worst when our leaders "shipwrecked" us, denying us of all but five pieces of our abundant gear. Frustrated and annoyed, we sulked about what we considered a silly game and gave our leaders more than enough attitude about the situation. However, we soon began playing crazy games, sharing some pretty wacky stories and laughing so hard that our lack of equipment no longer took precedent in our minds. We bonded over the frustration, and pooled our resources and personalities to make sure we had a good time. We finished out the night with a series of activities dubbed 'B.E.A.R.' or Be Educated About Respect. Through these, I was able to see that I was not alone in my fears, frustrations, discomfort and anxiety. We were all uncomfortable, but together, we had learned to be comfortable despite that.
We awoke on the final day of our trip to find that the games were far from over; our leaders had taken two canoes and paddled to the take-out site in the earliest light of dawn, leaving us with almost all the gear and a task which seemed too big for such young people; we had to paddle the remaining two miles to the take-out ourselves in a timely manner, without leaving any trace at the campsite, loosing any equipment or enough canoes for the seven of us.
Initially, we were stunned and angry, but a fellow crew member soon voiced his secret adoration for the situation. They had left us alone, but we were capable; we were not the children we thought we were, but rather adults who had the skills to complete the task at hand. It was perhaps the best metaphor for starting college life there is. All week we had been guided by our leaders less and less, until the final day when we were left to fend for ourselves. The pride we felt as we paddled up to the take-out and our beaming leaders (half an hour early, I might mention) was surreal. We had accomplished what had been seemingly impossible and we knew that we were now ready for whatever lay ahead. We spent the rest of the day bonding at Bucknell's low ropes course, eating great food, baptizing other Buckwilders as river-people and dancing until our legs were as sore as our arms. It was the perfect ending to a great trip.
Reflecting on the experience now, I realize that I learned much more than I thought I would have. I learned survival skills, how to take care of the environment I'm using, how to persevere when the going gets rough and most importantly, how to find comfort when there is seemingly none.
After this paddling expedition, I have a great group of friends who I wouldn't trade for the world, three outstanding upperclassmen to look up to and chat with and a new sense of self. Although I am still slightly nervous about all the new challenges that I will tackle during my time at Bucknell, I am less fearful of going through them alone. At times, I will be uncomfortable and out of my element, but I know that I will always find people here to help me though. I'll never be uncomfortable alone, and with company comes comfort.
