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The road of memories.

The other evening I found myself walking on a path, along a road I know so well, and as I looked out at the river rushing past me, butterflies filled my stomach as I relived so many, full of life memories.

Like that one time, when 10 raft guides hoped on a mini max in hopes of surfing the man made wave, just down river from the boathouse. And as the sinking raft hit the wave, there was more swimmers than surfers.


And that summer when I was a rookie raft guide, and those nervous nerves that pulsed through my veins, because it was flip boat training day. And in the end we crushed it and got back in the raft.

Each time we flipped it got getting easier and easier. And it reminded me, that life, is like of like flipping a boat.

Then a couple summers later, I find myself, spending my evenings after work, trying to surf that man made wave, failing more times than succeeding. Each time eager to challenge the water and its power, many times loosing the game we were so stoked to play.

As, I was walking along I couldn't help but feel so connected with my surroundings, and I found myself getting lost in the red, jagged mountains to my left. Still highlighted with snow, I thought back to the warmer days. The days of trail running under the summer sun, dodging rocks and roots which frequently covered the trail. Pounding out the questions I kept asking in my mind with every step.

And, tomorrow I’m going to run those trails again, letting those questions that frequent my mind, hammer out with every step once again.

And as the music plays in my head phones, it brings me back to those concrete couch nights. As we played and listened to music, we looked up at the stars and LJ filled our minds with knowledge about the galaxies above, while JC hollers ‘UFO’ from a couple feet away. Our backs are warm as we lay on the blacktop, which now holds the days sunshine, and we sink into it.


A chuckle comes from my belly as the memory of a late night bike ride home from he bar involved a bear in the middle of the pitch black road. It wasn’t until we were just a couple feet away from the bear, when we noticed he was there, and he realized he should run.


As my stomach growls in hunger memories of potlucks, and getting to know each other through a game we call 'slap the bag' make me yearn for warm summer evenings. This game, involves a bag a wine, as we ask each other questions, and stories are told and experiences are shared, as our cheeks turn rose peddle red from the wine that flows so easily.


As I walk along I look down at the river and see Ed's beach. A hang out spot created years ago by a previous raft guide, who threw enough rocks in the river he created a giant eddy. With a sandy beach and calm water, it was the perfect skinny dipping spot. Here friendships were cultivated as we watched the sunlight fade away behind the mountains.


If I were to count the memories from this one path, on this one road, it would feel like a lifetime.


This summer will be my 9th season with Whitewater, it's become a place I don't think I can ever let go of. It's not just about 'being a raft guide' but so much more. There are places in this world that ultimately change your life. During these crazy times as sickness surrounds us, may we all choose to stay positive and focus on the things that bring a smile to our face and butterflies to our stomachs.


If YOU ever feel like you need to talk to someone, or simply need a hug, don't hesitate to reach out. I got you. As of now, let's all continue to take care of our health so we can enjoy doing those things we love most, and best of all being able to share that with others.


Happy Monday!







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