My mind was racing, and I didn’t really know what to say. But I knew that Rob would by now have weighed all his options carefully, consulted the best medical experts in the field, and constructed a detailed and thorough plan of attack.

“What’s next?” I asked.

“Having surgery next month. Then we’ll see. Radiation. Possibly chemotherapy. But one step at a time. At any rate, I’ll be sidelined for at least a little while, dealing with this and recovering. You might want to consider some other kayaking guides.”

My mind was whirling. Right now I wasn’t even thinking about paddling a kayak, yet here was Rob, thinking beyond his own predicament to what it might mean for me and my training.

“Whatever you need,” I said to Rob. “You know I’m there for ya.”

Our hands clenched into one fist.

“I know it, buddy,” he said. “I know.”

In May 2010, Rob had his prostate and eighteen surrounding lymph nodes in his pelvis removed. Yet nine hours after returning home post-surgery, he called me to announce with pride that he was going climbing.

Rob pushed his recovery, maintaining incredibly high activity levels. But as test reports came back, the news about his health was grim. Not surprisingly, Rob’s spirit stayed strong. “My wife says my cancer is an overachiever, just like me!” he laughed.

A little over a year after being diagnosed, in the fall of 2011, Rob was over at the house discussing a possible whitewater guide he’d found through his research. He was really excited, though he was a diminished version of the old Rob. His voice had become hoarse and tired-sounding, and his normally muscular upper body was soft and pudgy from the medications he was taking. He now needed a two-hour nap each day. Still, we’d managed to keep paddling and training intermittently throughout his cancer treatment, which was amazing.

Now here he was, giddy with excitement about a potential training trip. Just recently, he’d decided to quit taking the medication and alter his diet to eliminate all dairy products and animal fat, which he learned could slow the progression of prostate cancer. For Rob, who ate anything and everything in his path like a swarm of locusts, this was particularly challenging and impressive.

“The guy’s name is Rocky Contos,” Rob said, “and he’s probably the most experienced river explorer in all of the Americas. He runs a river conservation organization called SierraRios, created to conserve wild and free-flowing Mexican rivers. And he guides trips down the big, warm-water rivers in Mexico, Guatemala, and Peru. These are effectively the Grand Canyons of Central and South America and perfect winter training for you. The absolute best way to replicate what you’ll encounter paddling the Grand Canyon: big water and long, loud rapids with imposing features.”

“Sounds like everything I’ve ever dreamed of,” I said. “But how about you? Will you be okay?”