Just say YES!

I usually write about trips after returning. These are a few thoughts from this experience. This trip definitely changed my thinking.

Expect the unexpected, things happen for a reason, stop and smell the roses – whatever cliché you want to pick couldn’t have prepared me for this vacation experience in Moab, Utah.

Never been here before, but my 4-day rafting trip got canceled at the last minute. Guess I’m a repressed adrenaline junky, because rafting is such a satisfying experience. I’ve run lots of rivers, but this was May in Utah. Snowmelt makes the rivers crest and creates huge, dangerous and thrilling rides down rapids you can’t imagine, I heard.

So, rafting trip canceled – I called around to try and book another one somewhere else. As fate would have it, Adrift Adventures had a two-day ready and waiting – available. Whoo hoo! I was set! Couldn’t wait! My husband and 11 other people – mostly guys – also converged on Moab to slay as many mountain bike trails in one week as humanly possible. Mountain biking – not my thing – too much concentration - I’d rather zone out and think, dream, wonder and enjoy the scenery, instead of figuring out how to live through it.

Hmmm, how ironic! I showed up bright and early at the rafting place on Friday and filled out the paperwork. The owner, Mike, assured me I was traveling with his most experienced guides, but all I thought was, “I’m going rafting – yay!” Then, a quick ride over to the gas station to meet the group – easy enough. I was eager to meet the other people on the trip, learn about their lives, bond and enjoy the trip. I got out of the van with my dry bag and came face to face with Eric. He was the put-in driver. No biggie, right? He introduced me to Kellan and Nelson, the two raft guides – brothers, I discovered later.

“Hi, hello, good to meet you,” whatever – done with the pleasantries, now where was the group? Eric then explained that I was the only rider. Uhhh, ok, ok, oh---kay. “I can do this,” I kept telling myself, “Have fun, go! It can’t be that bad, just do it! You paid your money, so take your chances.” So, I just got in the truck with my stuff and went.

The put-in was close, so it wasn’t long before we were motoring down the river. Overwhelming postcard scenery engorged every glance, huge cliffs, sandstone formations, ancient granaries and beautiful desert vegetation. Kellan and Nelson called the first day, dead heading. That meant the rest of the group would join us by jet boat the next morning to run the really big rapids.

Basically, we puttered the 50+ miles then camped. I decided to try anything they suggested. (Don’t let your imagination get carried away, I know who I am, so no funny business.) The first activity was a hike to a waterfall – absolutely stunning, tucked away in a canyon only they knew how to reach. “Do you want to go?” they asked. “Yes!” The next was a hike over an oxbow section of the river. “Do you want to go?” Kellan asked. “Yes!”

They wouldn’t let me do anything. I have tons of camping experience, but it was worthless to them. Their jobs as guides took over and they rolled out the red carpet just for me. First, they put up a tarp in three seconds, then cooked ribs, tortellini and salad for dinner. Nelson later baked a perfect cake in the Dutch oven and frosted it with chocolate icing – sheesh! I was impressed.

The next morning was unnerving. Kellan and Nelson rigged up the boat and readied the equipment, while I stood around like an idiot. “Can I help??” I pleaded. “No, we’ve got it!” they responded calmly. They had a system, and if I “helped” it would just take longer, probably.

Around 10:30am, the jet boat arrived with 12 riders and 4 guides. Kellan and Nelson called them swampers. We slithered into wetsuits and life jackets then listened to the safety talk.

I worried about the sibling rivalry as they selected riders for their boats. Whose boat would I choose, not wanting to play favorites with the semi-rival brothers? It was easy – I didn’t get a choice. Nelson pointed to all the riders he wanted, and I was in the group. I really wanted the front center seat, but a lady from New Zealand wanted it too, so I relented. I sat in the back left at first until another rider complained about being uncomfortable, so we traded. After that, I was middle center, just behind the New Zealand lady who promptly lost her shoes in the first rapid.

The rapids were not too bad at first, but bigger than any I’d ever seen. Roiling, rolling, boiling 10-20 foot swells came from all directions. Thank God we were in a motor boat. Our first man overboard was one of the swampers – a big guy who managed to hold onto the raft, the New Zealand lady and I pulled him back in. Whew! Every time he went through a rapid, he spat – gross. I warned him, “Dude, if you spit on me, it’s on!” He just laughed and kept riding.

We stopped briefly before a big set of rapids, and the New Zealand lady asked if I wanted to trade places, making me front center. “Yes!” I said, which seemed to get easier and easier as the trip continued. The spitting swamper asked if I would like to swim later after the rapids. “Yes!” I said.

The next set of rapids was epic – huge 30-ft swells hitting us from all directions. I kept thinking, “If I let go, I’m dead.” The boat kicked around like a bucking bull then rode up the swell, like the movie, “Perfect Storm.” The rush of water jerked my right hand loose from its grip several times, and I slid back against the New Zealand lady. She pushed me forward again and I regained my grip, coughing and gasping for breath each time.

After lunch, Nelson and Kellan changed into pirate costumes and emerged from the brush with swashbuckling antics. The crowd was amused and the show eased tensions as we prepared for a few more rapids, then smooth water until the Lake Powell take-out. It immediately started hailing, raining and blowing. Everyone was freezing, so Kellan began handing out his reserve clothes and covering people with tarps.

The last part of the trip was fascinating with the rain creating hundreds of rushing waterfalls over the cliff faces. It was awe-inspiring. We kept playing leapfrog with a lone blue heron that stayed just a few boat lengths ahead of us for miles.

We made it to Lake Powell and disembarked. This trip taught me a big lesson. Lately, I’ve been saying, “No” to things that might have been fun or adventurous. I have tons of friends and a loving husband to support me just like Nelson and Kellan, two strangers, supported me through a two-day trip. Why should I say, “No?”

Life can close in on people when they start saying, “No” too much. All the “Yeses” from those two days made me wonder what I was missing. Saying “yes” was fun, not dangerous. Trusting strangers should be just as easy as trusting loved-ones. Hello – wake up call! The catharsis showed me to take more risks – not stupid ones – just those that would expand my experience and teach something.

Albert Einstein said, “There is one thing we do know – that we are here for the sake of each other.”

After this experience, I resolved to say “yes” more and stay open to new horizons, especially if they stretched my abilities.