Rollin' Down the River

I had the opportunity to go whitewater rafting on the Deschutes with some of my best friends last week. We were gone three days (two nights) and it was the longest time I had been away from Toe. The weather was great, the company was great, the trip was great. Imagine Thelma and Louise if it had gone right. Ok, maybe better.

After rafting we went to a local state park with a phenomenal waterfall that was recommended by our guide. We hiked down the trail and then started "off roading" it. We climbed around the rocks and a couple of us went for a dip in the bottom pool of the waterfall.

It was interesting, we all enjoyed the trip thoroughly, but were each drawn to different parts. One of us was really interested in the rafting, one found the joy of a mountain goat, climbing all over the rocks, one became more brave near the waterfall, and one was just willing to do anything. She was the first one to "ride the bull" on the raft and was ready to go along with the other risks we were wanting to take. We're a pretty cautious bunch (excepting our wild woman, who is braver than the rest but also not stupid): the rafting trip had a professional guide; there were other people at the waterfall, including a family with an infant. But we each pushed our boundaries on the trip, and each found exhilaration.

And we each gained so much from the others' enjoyment of the experience. I would have hated the bus rides between rafting, but L. laughed so hard at the corny jokes the guide told, I couldn't help laughing myself. I would have never been brave enough to wade along the waterfall pool by myself, but N. was enthusiastic to go with me and we had a great time. R. was ready with a helping hand as the two non-climbers gripped their way along the rocks trying to keep up.

I'm grateful to have a group of friends who support each others' strengths and weaknesses and help each other take risks.