Mamas, Don't Let Your Babies Grow Up To Be Raft Guides
I am a guide because I love to foster connections between people and the river. My personal connection to river life and all it entails, has been a source of meaning, joy, and community for me since I began boating. I love to introduce others to new ways of existing outside, and celebrate the growing comfort they develop. Seeing new campers sleep under the stars for the first time or exclaim at a Western Spade Footed Toad brings the magic of the river anew each time. Serving up a delicious fajita dinner on the third evening of a trip, I look down the long table as 25 former strangers laugh and talk under a broad shade tarp on a white sand beach. There is so much to river life that is not boating, and much of the interpersonal connection happens during these times.
When we are on the water, many guests are perfectly content to relax and watch the basalt columns slide by, wending down the river as violet green swallows dip and turn above. It is a joy to converse, to notice the eagles on high and the falling whistle of the canyon wren. I would happily guide until I hit the sea this way, reading water and working with the river while the passengers take it all in. Because when guests like you want to float the river as passengers, I get to float the river. If every guest became a guide, I'd be out of a job!
But the secret is that I love floating downstream so much that I can't help but want to share the requisite skills. On our Family Magic Trips there are often a few kids who want to try out the oars, and I cycle them through on flat water. The ten foot oars are heavy, and require strength just to lift them out of the water and take a stroke. We have a six year old who gets a couple splashes and decides he’s done. Then a nine year old who quickly understands the motion of the rowing stroke, but struggles to coordinate both oars at once. Everyone in their little bodies does surprisingly well given they are attempting to pilot a contraption built for an adult. And then there's always one kid--the one who may not get it right away, but most certainly loves it immediately. Every trip i've been on with kids, one of them is enamored with rowing. On this trip, an 8 year old falls in love.
Concentration quiets her face as she focuses on keeping the oar blades upright in the current. In the flat water she practices turning the boat in a circle by rowing hard on the left and taking the right oar out of the water. I introduce back strokes, and she spins the other way, getting the hang of backing one oar and stroking forward on the other. When the heavy oars drop out of her hands, she grapples them back to the correct position. As she gets comfortable I coach her to row with her whole body, translating all of the strength from her legs and core into pressure on the oar blades.
As she integrates these new skills, the water picks up. Riffles speed over a gravel bar and the water shallows. She looks to me, preparing to hand over the oars reluctantly.
“You got this. Keep your nose downstream, and your oars close in to your center”
Her eyes light up with thrilling wonder as she captains the 12 foot red raft through the rushing flow. I am right by her side, ready to coach or help with the oars. This section of water is relatively tame, but when you are rowing for the first time it feels fast and big. Her oars stretch wide, catching the powerful current as we accelerate downstream. A whoosh of cool air, the fresh scent of whitewater, and that's all it takes. She's hooked. I've seen it before and i'll see it again. If you’re in danger of becoming a river guide, you may catch river fever with only the most minimal exposure. There is nothing like a Family Magic Trip to spread this contagion, as children are especially susceptible to it. So as you consider bringing your darling children into the splendour of the Salmon River Canyons, here is my word of warning:
Mama’s, don’t let your babies grow up to be raft guides. Don't let ‘em pick guitars and drive rubber boats.
For one thing, their clothes will always be torn and dirty. When you spend all summer cooking over coal, patching boats, rolling in the dirt and bathing in the river, outfits can take some wear. And there’s no time to replace them between trips--gotta get back to the water! Sometimes guides will mend their clothing, sewing by headlamp. When that happens, the clothes can never be replaced because each patch reminds of the riverside where you stitched beside friends old and new. When raft guides do dress up, you might need sunglasses. Haute Couture on the river means maximal everything: sequins, rainbows, ties, scarves, hats, tutus, and whatever else sparkles and flows. On Family Magic Trips we bring a big bag of dressup, so everyone can join in on the stylish festivities. If you let your babies be raft guides, expect gaudy apparel whether appropriate or not.
Secondly, They'll never stay home and they're never alone. Once they have a taste of river life it’s hard to keep raft guides away. The water rushes between their ears and reminds them of a life in flow. A life where each day you are borne by everchanging water, as ancient as time. A life where you wake with the sun and sleep with the stars. A life where you gather to share each meal. After experiencing these rhythms of canyon and community, raft guides struggle to return to ‘normal’ life. They will never be satisfied with concrete jungles or social isolation. They crave networks of kinship, close groups of colleagues and friends who break bread together regularly. They know they need time with the land, the flora and fauna, wherever they are. They will always strike out to reunite with the rhythms of the river.
So careful bringing your babies on river trips. They might just fall in love. They might learn to row a boat and never want to stop. On one trip some adult guests were asking about how we live when we are off the river. They were surprised at how ‘little’ we had in comparison to a more traditional job and life. We laughed along, and acknowledged that it was true. But the real truth is what the young boy next to me said:
“I know why you're a raft guide. Because you have all this,” and he shrugged at the humans playing, the tumbling froth as the river turns, the bright sun filtering through hackberry leaves.
