Sometimes I forget that people read my blog. It is a dangerous place, the inter-web, because you type things you think of as being anonymous and then people read it, which I love. However, it often carries with it the emotions of the reader. That or the writer can get caught up in the anonymity of the forum. As the author of this blog I often write things that take advantage of being incognito and not until people comment does it hit home that there are more parties involved than just me and my keyboard. I feel like yesterday's post may have gone the "too dramatic for public forum" route.
In response to the many comments left on yesterday's entry I feel compelled to manage perceptions of what happened on the river so you don't think Elliott and I are out trying to cheat death or taking chances we shouldn't with our lives. There are so many people who do this sport their whole lives without incident and I plan on being one of those.
1. I am a free agent. Fully capable of making my own decisions and if I had insisted on abandoning ship, we would have done so. But, I am a social creature and vulnerable to peer pressure.
2. We made it through. No harm, no foul?
3. We are not out doing this:
4. No, Elliott doesn't really read this. He tells me he only reads it if he wants to know what is going on in our lives. Otherwise, he is usually there so no need.
5. I know Elaine (who is really MY friend that Elliott just met first by chance so I refer to her and her husband as his friends so Elliott thinks there is something out there that I haven't gotten my grubby paws on yet) would have walked out of there with me if I had insisted. The Hopper-Hammitts are good people. MY people. Elaine is just a better sport than I am with less tears to cry and less complaining to do. Jeff isn't scared of anything. I want to be that way.
6. After re-capping the experience with the rest of the crew I was informed that no one heard me yell, "I am captaining now..." because the water was too loud. It is a good thing because all I really had to say was, "paddle harder you sissies or we are going to be taking a cold swim!"
7. As much as I think it might be the worst thing in the world, flipping and/or falling out of the boat happens a lot and everyone I have ever talked to lived to tell about it. (that's a little joke)
8. I was scared enough that I don't know what was real and what was self-inflicted. What I do know is I still want to be on sabbatical.
Tuesday, July 01, 2008
Monday, June 30, 2008
Sabbatical
Sabbatical: any extended period of leave from one's customary work, especially for rest, to acquire new skills or training...
I think I need a sabbatical from my life as a river wife. I had a rough weekend and I find myself barely able to hold my head up at my desk today from exhaustion. You should see the dog, he is not as good at masking his exhaustion as I am. That is not to say I am good at it, it just isn't quite as cute or dramatic with me.
We had a fantastic friends weekend in Idaho with a group of Elliott's friends from college that we rarely get to see. Jeff and Elaine drove in from Oregon, with Elaine's brother Drew in tow. Laura flew in from Denver, Chris flew in from LA and drove with us to Idaho where we had a great (and challenging) weekend on the Grandjean section of the Payette River.
I am sorry to say that I was the source of all kinds of drama during the trip. I was going to use this forum to apologize but I haven't decided if I should really apologiz so I may leave that for its own post once I feel truly compelled to do so.
We have never run this section of river before and it was difficult to get any information about what we might encounter so we went into it under-informed and at really high water. My nervousness began early and grew into uncontrollable anxiety by the time we hit the water on Friday morning. As we were scouting the run from the road we saw two sections that I didn't want to paddle through and I made this VERY clear but the panic I felt was not shared by the rest of the crew. It was not that I felt like we couldn't make it through, I just didn't want to risk something going wrong when we had no contingency were things to go wrong. We were the only boat on the river that day and our crew did not have enough experience to pull us out of a bad situation. I put on the best rally pants I had packed and got in the boat.
The river was so much more active than I had anticipated and there was little down time to rest which started making me nervous about the ability of the paddlers to maintain their strength all day. After going through the first big rapid which took some tricky maneuvering by my very skilled and sexy husband (I mean that in absolute sincerity) I insisted we pull over so I could regroup. I was so freaked out I was shaking and had tears running down my cheeks. I wanted off the river.
Elliott was so sweet and insisted that if the river was not safe enough for me, it wasn't safe enough for any of us so we would all hike out if I decided that was what needed to happen. Being the only person who felt strongly about it, I cried my tears and got back in the boat.
At the next big rapid I felt even more vulnerable. Maybe it was the headstand the boat did in one of the holes (I am not joking or exaggerating, we were on end) or maybe it was being hit in the shoulder by my flying dog but I do know that my heart was turned upside down and beating at an unnatural pace when we pulled over to gather ourselves again. I got out of the boat took Elliott aside and told him I was hiking out, I couldn't do any more. That did not work, I got back in the boat and off we went.
In the next rapid, one we had not seen from the road we almost lost Chris off the front of the boat. While we were trying to keep him in the boat, Elliott got sucked out of the back and Kimball who was between his legs got thrown in the air. When I felt the back of the boat lurch I looked back and Elliott was gone. I called to the boat, "I am captaining now, listen up. Forward Paddle!" Elliott still in the water and two of us trying to get him back in the boat meant only 4 people were paddling, no one was steering, we were in some serious trouble and only half way through the rapid.
Elliott called to me from the water and gave me a focused stare that communicated the intensity of the situation but with a very calm and deliberate message, "We are in trouble, focus and get me back in the boat". Drew and I grabbed his PFD and pulled him in.
Within seconds he was back in his seat at the stern and called to the crew, "Everyone gather yourselves, I'm fine, we need to get through this. Forward paddle!"
We pulled over again. I got out again. Did a little shaking, a lot of holding onto Elliott and the realization that the boat really couldn't afford to loose a paddler hit home. I was in it, like it or not. Too bad it only took me 3 hours on the water to come to terms with this. Giving in to my situation earlier would have made things easier on us all.
Things I learned from the experience:
1. I do not enjoy being in physical danger.
2. I do not thrive in peer pressure situations
3. I do not feel a rush of excitement or satisfaction from escaping with my life. It makes me angry that I put myself in a situation that dangerous.
4. All problem solving skills and ability to rationally think go out the window (or boat) when Elliott is in danger. My Emergency mode button that should get me into high gear is disabled. This is bad.
5. Elliott is an amazing captain. He thrives in the hydro-environment and his confidence, strength and judgment are at their best when he is cradled in the loving red tubes of his boat.
6. Our boat has wings. There is no reason we shouldn't have flipped this weekend and the only explanation I can offer (and I am certain Elliott will back me up on this) is that there is something magical about her. This magic is beyond my understanding and I am ever so grateful for it. She and Elliott make a great team.
7. I need a sabbatical. I am tired, scared and disenchanted with pushing the limits of "adventure".
8. My physical will is directly connected to my mental willingness. Something most people know about themselves but have few situations to truly test their limits.
9. I am conservative with my mortality and the mortality of those I love. I will not apologize for this.
Now the tricky part: How do I tell Elliott I am going on sabbatical?
I think I need a sabbatical from my life as a river wife. I had a rough weekend and I find myself barely able to hold my head up at my desk today from exhaustion. You should see the dog, he is not as good at masking his exhaustion as I am. That is not to say I am good at it, it just isn't quite as cute or dramatic with me.
We had a fantastic friends weekend in Idaho with a group of Elliott's friends from college that we rarely get to see. Jeff and Elaine drove in from Oregon, with Elaine's brother Drew in tow. Laura flew in from Denver, Chris flew in from LA and drove with us to Idaho where we had a great (and challenging) weekend on the Grandjean section of the Payette River.
I am sorry to say that I was the source of all kinds of drama during the trip. I was going to use this forum to apologize but I haven't decided if I should really apologiz so I may leave that for its own post once I feel truly compelled to do so.
We have never run this section of river before and it was difficult to get any information about what we might encounter so we went into it under-informed and at really high water. My nervousness began early and grew into uncontrollable anxiety by the time we hit the water on Friday morning. As we were scouting the run from the road we saw two sections that I didn't want to paddle through and I made this VERY clear but the panic I felt was not shared by the rest of the crew. It was not that I felt like we couldn't make it through, I just didn't want to risk something going wrong when we had no contingency were things to go wrong. We were the only boat on the river that day and our crew did not have enough experience to pull us out of a bad situation. I put on the best rally pants I had packed and got in the boat.
The river was so much more active than I had anticipated and there was little down time to rest which started making me nervous about the ability of the paddlers to maintain their strength all day. After going through the first big rapid which took some tricky maneuvering by my very skilled and sexy husband (I mean that in absolute sincerity) I insisted we pull over so I could regroup. I was so freaked out I was shaking and had tears running down my cheeks. I wanted off the river.
Elliott was so sweet and insisted that if the river was not safe enough for me, it wasn't safe enough for any of us so we would all hike out if I decided that was what needed to happen. Being the only person who felt strongly about it, I cried my tears and got back in the boat.
At the next big rapid I felt even more vulnerable. Maybe it was the headstand the boat did in one of the holes (I am not joking or exaggerating, we were on end) or maybe it was being hit in the shoulder by my flying dog but I do know that my heart was turned upside down and beating at an unnatural pace when we pulled over to gather ourselves again. I got out of the boat took Elliott aside and told him I was hiking out, I couldn't do any more. That did not work, I got back in the boat and off we went.
In the next rapid, one we had not seen from the road we almost lost Chris off the front of the boat. While we were trying to keep him in the boat, Elliott got sucked out of the back and Kimball who was between his legs got thrown in the air. When I felt the back of the boat lurch I looked back and Elliott was gone. I called to the boat, "I am captaining now, listen up. Forward Paddle!" Elliott still in the water and two of us trying to get him back in the boat meant only 4 people were paddling, no one was steering, we were in some serious trouble and only half way through the rapid.
Elliott called to me from the water and gave me a focused stare that communicated the intensity of the situation but with a very calm and deliberate message, "We are in trouble, focus and get me back in the boat". Drew and I grabbed his PFD and pulled him in.
Within seconds he was back in his seat at the stern and called to the crew, "Everyone gather yourselves, I'm fine, we need to get through this. Forward paddle!"
We pulled over again. I got out again. Did a little shaking, a lot of holding onto Elliott and the realization that the boat really couldn't afford to loose a paddler hit home. I was in it, like it or not. Too bad it only took me 3 hours on the water to come to terms with this. Giving in to my situation earlier would have made things easier on us all.
Things I learned from the experience:
1. I do not enjoy being in physical danger.
2. I do not thrive in peer pressure situations
3. I do not feel a rush of excitement or satisfaction from escaping with my life. It makes me angry that I put myself in a situation that dangerous.
4. All problem solving skills and ability to rationally think go out the window (or boat) when Elliott is in danger. My Emergency mode button that should get me into high gear is disabled. This is bad.
5. Elliott is an amazing captain. He thrives in the hydro-environment and his confidence, strength and judgment are at their best when he is cradled in the loving red tubes of his boat.
6. Our boat has wings. There is no reason we shouldn't have flipped this weekend and the only explanation I can offer (and I am certain Elliott will back me up on this) is that there is something magical about her. This magic is beyond my understanding and I am ever so grateful for it. She and Elliott make a great team.
7. I need a sabbatical. I am tired, scared and disenchanted with pushing the limits of "adventure".
8. My physical will is directly connected to my mental willingness. Something most people know about themselves but have few situations to truly test their limits.
9. I am conservative with my mortality and the mortality of those I love. I will not apologize for this.
Now the tricky part: How do I tell Elliott I am going on sabbatical?
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