The big mountains had kept me away for long stretches of time, but on the river, each night, after the gifts of the day were earned, I got to come home. I’d sit back, surrounded by my loved ones, listening to the stories of waves and whirlpools, tosses and near misses, and the sense of connection felt as deep as the river itself.

That last night, Ellie and I took a walk down the beach together, and I said, “I really like having you here.”

“I like being here, too,” she replied. “But when you’re upside down like that and struggling to get up, it’s hard to watch. I want to help you, but I can’t. It was like that time I watched Arjun barrel down that hill for the first time on his bike. I have to look away.

“But I want you to know how proud I am of you,” she continued. “Today, I watched you just above a rapid. You took a deep breath, then another, and you paddled forward, right into it. I told myself to remember that face, because that’s what courage looks like. That’s what I want for Emma and Arjun. That’s what I want for myself.”

“It’s a full circle,” I said, “because knowing you’re nearby, it makes me feel a little braver.”

8

If I was going to become a better kayaker, we needed to push it further and attempt some more technical rivers. In kayaking, technical refers to rapids with more rocks and holes to avoid, and a more complicated series of moves to navigate through, all with serious consequences if you don’t hit the line. Fortunately for us, the upper Colorado River was a short drive away, and a section called Shoshone was a perfect training ground.

Because Shoshone had more complex maneuvering, it was going to be really hard for Rob to guide me while also trying to pick the best line through all the rocks and holes. So we decided to add another kayaker to the group. We’d enlist different friends to be our “line picker,” to paddle out in front and choose the ideal way through. That would enable Rob to concentrate on guiding me, while he simply followed the lead boater. In case I had problems and swam, another kayaker could also be there to retrieve my boat, while Rob towed me back to shore.

The rapids in Shoshone were accurately named and spoke straight to my fears: Pinball Alley, Tombstone, and Man-Eater, to name a few. Listening to the full-throated roar of water pounding relentlessly over rocks, my muscles felt weak and mushy. I forced myself to breathe oxygen into my body, but I still felt like I could suffocate.