Our summer feature, “Paddle Out,” features personal essays about life on the river. This week, Women’s Adventure blogger Jayme Otto indulges us with her own reflection about her recent raft trip down Colorado’s Gunnison River.
Jayme and the Gunnison River crew
Confession time. I’d never been on an overnight river rafting trip. My experiences were limited to half-day excursions of the white water variety — Ohiopyle, Pennsylvania, growing up, and more recently, Costa Rica’s Rio Pacuare. To be frank, the idea of a multi-day river rafting trip sounded boring—lugging camping gear by boat, navigating class II ripples, no white water . . . yawn.
I was so wrong.
Last weekend, I went to Gunnison, Colorado at the insistence of a dozen friends. We spent three days rafting the Gunnison River, and camping on its banks. I realized that there’s much more to a river than its rapids.
On a multi-day river rafting trip, you basically make like the water and become fluid. There are times for effort, like water churning in a drop. And times for relaxation, like water pooling where the river deepend. Nothing is rushed, nothing is strained. There’s a time to paddle and a time to float. A time to prepare dinner and a time to stretch out on the sand and read. A time to leap off 50-foot cliffs into the river, and a time to hike inland to explore waterfalls, swimming in their sun-soaked pools.
My friend Keith explained the allure of river rafting trips this way: It’s like camping in the sense that it gets you out into the wilderness and into the rhythm of nature. But it’s better because you have rafts to haul luxuries you couldn’t bring on ordinary camping trips. In our case, a dry box full of liquor for mixed drinks ranging from mojitos to margaritas, a beach umbrella large enough to fit our entire group, games of bocce ball and horseshoes, and a cooler packed with some of the best food I’ve ever eaten on a wilderness excursion—fish tacos with guacamole and organic corn chips, pad thai, smoked salmon benedict with homemade Hollandaise sauce and asparagus, and caprese salad with fresh basil.
In contrast, your personal items are minimal. There’s very little that you need in the summertime, in a place with hardly any insects, when the temperatures stay above 55 degrees when the sun sets. For me, the freedom of having just eight items (a toothbrush, a pair of capri’s, a tank top, one bathing suit, a pair of Keens, a sleeping bag, a sunhat, and sunscreen) was revolutionary. And it was fitting that the only mirror I had to look into was the river water, which served up a more authentic reflection than I’d seen in a long time.
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Jayme Otto is a travel blogger and contributing editor for Women’s Adventure and a freelancer at large. Look for her regular blogs on www.womensadventuremagazine.com.
