Something magical happens when you put like minded people together in the outdoors with a shared mission.

It’s a recipe as old as the hills themselves: take a dose of physical exertion, a pinch of risk, a dollop of uncertainty, top with a large helping of camaraderie, and garnish with laughter. Blend it all together for a perfect day. Repeat for a good life.

Earlier this month, on the way to a work conference in Boise, Idaho, I stopped for three days in Durango, Colorado, for an introductory whitewater packrafting course, run by Four Corners Guides.

It must have been my 27-old self who booked the trip back in February, but it was the middle-aged-dad version of me that showed up on June 1st. Go figure. Walking along the banks of the Animas River on the eve of the course, watching big rafts bounce through the waves, my 43-year old self was wondering what the hell my 27-year old self had signed me up for.

Oh well, I was about to find out…

Day 1: Oxbow Park and Preserve to 29th Street / River level ~2,000 cfs

Day 1 began on the mellow flat water of the Animas River, at Oxbow Park and Preserve. 

After introductions (of ourselves — myself, Bridget, and instructor Steve —  and our boats), it was time to don drysuits. Standing in the fierce sun, already sweating, it took willpower to pull the dreaded drysuit neck gasket over my head, endure a split-second of claustrophobic panic, and then settle into feeling like a boil-in-the-bag beef stew. Drysuits keep the water out and the sweat in.

Thankfully, we soon jumped into the river and I understood why we were wearing them. It’s cold at this time of year.

Steve ran us through a set of swim drills (defensive and aggressive, always keeping feet off the river bed), paddle strokes, and boat handling techniques.

These little boats are pure fun!

It was soon lunchtime, and we ate our sandwiches at the river’s edge, watching the crazy spectacle of the annual Durango river parade unfolding on the boat ramp. All manner of crafts and characters were partying and pushing off into the water. Nuts!

After lunch, we proceeded downriver, a merry little convoy of duckies. Along the way, we practiced catching eddies, ferrying, and reading the river. It was an ideal place to learn, with each feature seemingly a tiny bit bigger and more powerful than the previous one. Gradually, I was getting a feel for the river.

Towards the end of the day, we pulled over to scout the last rapid for the day, at 29th Street. 

Holy shit, are we going down that?

It looked quite a bit bigger than anything thus far. I felt a little intimidated at first. But we talked about it as a group and watched boats, paddleboards, lilos, swimmers, and all the flotsam and jetsam of the river parade go through it, and then it didn’t feel scary at all.

We watched Steve go through it first. Calm as a cucumber. As smooth as silk. He made it look so easy. Deliberate paddle strokes, picking the best line, seemingly without expending any effort.

When I followed Steve through, I missed the optimum line (unsurprisingly). I got through the first feature OK, but headed straight into the next set of bigger waves, which Steve’s line avoided. Bouncing around, paddling like a crazy clown, I somehow stayed upright and huffed and puffed my way back to river left and the waiting eddy. 

That was AWESOME!

We go again and again, and each time I slightly improve my line to catch the eddy higher and with less effort.

As the day draws to a close, I realize how weary I am.

It was the fierce sun! Dehydration (I wasn’t sure about opportunities to pee so didn’t drink enough)! The altitude! The time difference! Frickin’ middle-age! Goddammit, all these things conspire to make me quite tired. I eat dinner at the hotel and fall asleep by 8.15pm (give me a break, that’s 10.15pm in my home timezone).

A mighty fine first day!

Day 2: 29th Street to Whitewater park / River level ~2,300 cfs

We started back at the same feature at 29th Street put-in. Another boater, Sarah, joined us for the rest of the course.

I felt much more comfortable this morning, a sign of how much progress I’ve made since yesterday. I practiced a wet self-rescue. It’s reassuring to know that I can get back into the boat and that it’s not too hard (well, provided I still have the boat, as I found out to my cost later on).

The morning was spent working the feature over and over, practicing getting the right line and catching the eddy. The importance of leaning downstream and punching into the eddy with momentum are the main takeaways. That and the tight drysuit neck gasket itching my sunburnt neck like mad.

For lunch, we hauled the boats up into the shade of some trees and sat around asking questions and telling stories. Well, mostly us students asking questions and Steve answering with a selection of stories from his many wild adventures.

In the afternoon we boat from 29th Street down to the Whitewater park through increasingly bumpy and fast rapids. All the time, we practice catching eddies, picking lines, and scouting rapids before running them.

At the whitewater park, we portage around the main rapids (class III/IV, so way out of our league at the moment) but we watch others run them and talk about their lines and the features. Really interesting learning how to read the river.

We put in again just below the whitewater park for a last section down to the take-out and parking lot.

I was riding high at this point, feeling like I was getting the hang of it all. In classic fashion when learning something new, my hubris set me up for a good beat-down.

I was following Sarah through the last set of waves, thinking to myself how fun it was. I was a little too close though, so couldn’t see what was coming. Sarah took the correct line just to the left of the last wave but I didn’t. Too late to change course, I went right into it and learnt the hard way that it had a decent sized hole at the bottom. Yikes!

My boat slammed into the hole and practically stopped. It immediately spun sideways and up on an edge. Time paused for a split-second but I knew what was coming. I get dumped out into the river. Argh me hearties, a genuine swim!

My boat gets stuck in the hole but I’m off racing downriver, paddle in one hand and sunglasses in the other (they fell off but they float, so I grabbed them. Gotta look cool when I’m drowning). Steve paddles over and tells me to grab the back of his boat. With a big effort, he towed me to the riverbank. I straggle ashore like a drowned rat, breathing hard and figuring out what the hell just happened.

Meanwhile, Steve heads off to retrieve my boat, which by now has worked free from the hole and ended up on the opposite bank. I was thankful and relieved, mostly because my wallet and phone were inside a drybag in the boat. (I kept them inside my drysuit with me the next day.)

Well, that made for an exciting finish to the day and a tremendous learning experience for our group to debrief (you’re welcome). It illustrated how quickly things can go south and you can find yourself up shit creek without a paddle, so to speak.

All-in-all, another terrific day!

Day 3: Whitewater park to River Road / River level ~2,700 cfs

The river rose again overnight, so it’s flowing faster this morning. The waves are rowdier but some features, like the hole that dumped me out yesterday, are now mostly washed out.

We start the morning just below the whitewater park with eddy practice, swim practice, rope work, and safety discussions.

We work on catching bigger eddies. The current is much stronger here. I’ve come so far from day 1 and I feel confident about this next eddy assignment. 

“What you’ve gotta do is pierce that eddy line, like an arrow” Steve reminds us.

“Gotcha, yep, that sounds good. I’ll give it a go” I reply.

I paddle out into the current. Lean downstream. Fart upstream, as we’ve been taught. And off I go.

Ok, this is looking good, a nice approach angle, the voice inside my head is saying. (For some reason, I’m hearing the voice of an air traffic controller bringing in a fighter jet to land on a carrier.)

Roger that, the voice continues. 

Then suddenly err, your approach angle is looking a little off now

I see Steve frantically waving to me to head further out into the current

HEAD FURTHER OUT into the current you dumbass… the voice in my head shouts.

Oh shit, I’ve stuffed it up, haven’t I?

I pirouette the boat — not really sure why — which of course doesn’t help and I just end up closer to the feature. I paddle like a madman for 5 or 6 strokes but it’s too late. I’m heading straight towards the wave train, way off the best line and the correct angle of attack. 

Argh, this is NOT going to work.

I blast past the eddy line miles off and crash and burn into the waves, remembering to straighten up at the last second to avoid going for a swim. It takes a big effort to get into the eddy and back upstream. It was fun though!

Yes, I have come far from day 1 but I still have a long way to go. 

After lunch, we paddle downriver, practicing eddying, ferrying, leaning downriver, boat towing, and swimming in the rapids. The river is bouncy and fun, and I enjoy the ride. 

We take out for the final time, just past River Road bridge, after the Home Depot. One final wrestle with the drysuit neck gasket and the course is done. 

We chat and laugh and relive the past three-days before saying our goodbyes. 

I LOVED it. Every bit of it.

By the end of three days, I feel a whole lot more confident and less intimidated than when I arrived on day one. I’m looking forward to continuing this journey.

I have a major case of post-river blues now. It’s been a while since I’ve hung out with a crew of folks who LOVE adventuring that much. Telling tales, laughing at anecdotes, excitedly sharing future trip plans. I gotta get more of this in my life again. It’s my drug of choice.

Thanks to the crew for an amazing three days: Steve, Bridget, and Sarah. And to Lizzy and Four Corners Guides for organizing behind the scenes. 🙏