We settled on going to a pond near our cabin at eight thousand feet above sea level, an hour west of Golden, Colorado. Rob and I pulled the kayak from the back of his truck and carried it to the edge of the water. We reviewed the pre-paddling routine, including how to slide into the neoprene spray skirt that would keep water from filling the kayak cockpit once I was upside down. I’d done some paddling in an inflatable kayak, so I understood the basic strokes. I also remembered Marieke describing Harlan’s roll to me during the Grand Canyon trip, but the move had seemed foreign and incomprehensible.

“I’ve been thinking about why you might have struggled to learn to roll before,” Rob said as he waded waist-deep into the water beside me, holding the edge of my boat. “Since you can’t see to visualize the moves, you need to learn them by feeling them and actually going through the motions. And we are going to keep it simple. The kayak roll can be reduced to three steps once you are upside down: paddle to surface, hip snap, head out last. The head is the last thing to come out of the water.”

Rob started out at the bow end of my kayak, his hands placed on both sides, as I rocked the boat side to side, from one edge to the other.

“That’s right, even more than that,” Rob encouraged me. “It’s clear that you don’t disco! You’re very stiff, Big E. Loosen up.”

It felt very tippy, but I noticed I could rock the boat pretty far: right edge, left edge, right edge, left edge. Next, Rob went around and held the side while I leaned over in the opposite direction, until the kayak was tipped perpendicular and my head was actually resting in the water. From this position, he told me to “snap” my hips hard and return to the sitting position with the boat bottom flat against the water. After I repeated this a bunch, Rob had me flip the boat completely over, and I used his steady hands at the surface of the water to grab on to and hip snap back upright.

“Okay,” Rob said, finally, handing me my paddle. “It’s time to put all the steps together. At first, getting two out of the three will be a victory. Say them to me again.”

“Paddle to surface, hip snap, head out last,” I repeated, feeling the apprehension building inside me.

“Exactly!” said Rob, slapping me on the back.

He guided my paddle to the setup position, so that my torso was turned to the left and my paddle ran alongside the boat edge. “Good setup,” he said.

“Now, this is going to feel disorienting and a bit suffocating, but relax. I’m right here to flip you upright if something goes wrong … now, ease over and flip upside down.”