PNW

We left the town after a great week. It wasn’t easy after making so many friends in such a good community. We drove to Hood River, OR to kayak the truss with friends from last summer. It was awesome to be back hanging out with old friends in the place that I intend to live in the near future.

                For a few days we would wake up early, paddle the Truss, and find ways to waste our time the rest of the day. Every night we’d find new ways to set up our hammocks to sleep under the stars. Some friends we met in Idaho came paddle with us for a few days. It was fun to show them down the rivers that I know after they had shown me down their local runs.

                After many good days of kayaking Sam I and headed north to the Olympic Coast. We backpacked in through some of the most beautiful and unique landscapes in the country. As I arrived I put my feet in the water and felt a calm sense of accomplishment as I achieved my vision of starting the summer swimming in the Atlantic and driving all the way to the opposite ocean. I hung my hammock up on some large driftwood trees that had floated in from the sea. We had no sense of time as the sky was so hazy we couldn’t see the sun. This was the last big trip that Sam and I made together on this trip. We both became absorbed in thoughts of our experiences. I reflected on all the opposing forces of change that has shaped me into who I am.

                The community of dirtbag kayakers living in their cars traveling around the country is a special one. Rather than living in congested cities, these kayakers choose to chase the wild of living the river lifestyle. When you embraces this lifestyle, the road becomes your home. There are a few havens scattered across the country where these paddlers will congregate. The places to go are dictated by the water levels. Many of the friends I have met on this trip I have only known for only a few weeks, yet I feel like I’ve known many of them for years. When you share the river with someone your friendship grows quickly as you spend your days enjoying the best of times together all while knowing that it won’t last. I feel like I’m in between two worlds right now. I have lived my whole previous life so differently from this and I have left it behind. For now this is my life and this community is my new family. As I continue to move forward I will have to walk a fine line between these two worlds as both are extremely important to me.

                Sam and I exchanged goodbyes as I dropped him off at Portland Airport. As I drove away I felt a new determination to achieve everything that I’ve ever dreamed of. I am truly on my own now and I couldn’t be more excited. There is nothing stopping me from following the path in life that I have dreamed of. I feel full of confidence that I can do anything and be anything that I put my mind to.

Pacific Northwest

The Town

Somewhere in America exists a town that is truly unique. The town is comprised of one café, a couple raft guide companies, and one of these best rivers in the United States. The river is what brings people here and the community is what makes people stay. The majority of the working population of this town is comprised of raft guides in their early adulthood. The center of town is the café where everybody will lazily congregate when not working or kayaking. Time moves differently here. There is no cell phone reception here and therefore little need for technologies’ distractions.

It is a town of extremes. The down time spent in the café is contrasted by the thrill and fear of kayaking one of the most deadly sections of whitewater in America. The friendships formed here are also extreme in their own way. This is a place that fosters strong and deep connections with people you may never see again when the season on the river comes to a close. The town is a temporary home for those misfits of society that choose to spend their summers living broke, dirty, and happy.

The river is the lifeblood of this town. When the river is in season people flock from around the world to experience it. When it gets cold most people will leave. Friendships blossom from sharing the river together. People from all skill levels will kayak together and no one is excluded. At night people will camp together, share stories, and get wild. Memories are made that will last a lifetime.

From a surface level the town is pleasant, but doesn’t look like much. If you commit yourself to the lifestyle of wandering in pursuit of good people and fun water you will likely stumble upon this paradise. The few amount of people here is what makes this community special and why I will leave it unnamed. Like most wild and beautiful parts of the country it may fall victim to population growth. For now its luster remains.

This town has given me a lot. For the moment it felt like home. I’m grateful to have found it and to have been so generously included in the community. I will think back to my experiences here often as a guide of how I’d like to live my life in the future.

The Town

The Island

On the coast of Olympic National Park there exists many islands that lie beyond the shore. The resistance of the destructive powers of the ocean have created a unique juxtaposition. Thousands of years of erosion have pushed back the cliff line and scattered monolithic islands remain as gravestones to mark what once was. One island in particular captured my attention. Through the power of inertia, this island stands strong. Its seawards face is weathered and barren while its opposite side is full of life.  Strength and submission dictate the working forces of nature. The nature of water is to disintegrate anything in its path. The nature of stone is to remain unmoved. The nature of life seeks to grow and expand everywhere it can. These opposing forces work together in harmony to produce a work of art. A living, unlikely, and temporary beauty to behold. 

Risk vs. Reward

I’ve been taking many risks lately. I’ve gone mountaineering with no gear. I’ve kayaked the North Fork of the Payette and had a scary flip. I’ve been kayaking the truss and have gotten beat up and swam. I’ve run lower mesa falls with with little safety. Driving across the country is a risk too.

                I risk shoulder injury, back injury, drowning, falling to death, and many more possible outcomes. I live on the edge and mistakes are very costly. Putting myself on the line has become the routine. The progression  is higher, faster, and bigger. How big will I go before I must turn away? Do I have the ability to save a friend when they depend on me? Will it ever be my turn to witness tragedy?

                On the river you don’t get many second chances. Every time you lose control you submit yourself to your fate on the river. This danger is the allure. When kayaking it is never you against the river. The river is a platform for you to battle yourself. When you put in to kayak a dangerous river you must be prepared physically and mentally. The river will test your bravery, skills, and resolve. You must have the right gear, skills, and crew. When things start to go wrong you have to pull yourself out of a bad mental space to make sure you can finish the run unharmed. Most of the time you can walk around the waterfall in front of you, but walking a waterfall you intended to do is a submission to yourself. By walking you submit that you aren’t as good as you thought you were. You have to be honest with your abilities. There isn’t much room for egos when lives are on the line.

                What are the possible rewards? The feeling of triumph from conquering yourself. The strength that is built from continually testing yourself in the face of danger. The comradery developed with those that choose to test themselves with you and trust you with their life if things were to spiral out of their control. The discovery of what it feels like to be alive.

                This lifestyle has given me so much. It has given me great friendships, unforgettable experiences, and transformative reflections. If I hadn’t found kayaking I fear I’d be struggling with the questions I have been able to start answering now.

 Is the risk worth it? I don’t have the ability to answer that. Why do I take these risks then? The idea of not pursuing my dreams and living my life to its potential is almost as scary as dying.

Dirtbags

                Living in Jackson Wyoming is a rare breed of youth. Abandoning conventional living standards these renegades choose to live out of their cars rather than pay the expensive rent of property in a resort town. They take up seasonal work filling the positions of guides, shop workers, and waiters to serve the wealthy tourists that flock to Jackson in the summertime. Money is often tight, yet these are some of the happiest people I have encountered with their work. In their free time these Jackson dirtbags spend their time adventuring in the amazing landscape surrounding Jackson. The mountains, rivers, and close friendships make it all worth it. Not everyone knows what their next step is, but they know life is good in the moment. 

Matt

Porter

Jacob

Claire

Laura

Jameson

Wyoming

              Two weeks into the road trip and time is starting to go more quickly. Our second major stop in the trip landed us in Jackson, Wyoming. The drive from Colorado to Wyoming consisted of some of the vastest landscapes we had ever seen. There were only a couple of small towns that we encountered on our nine hour drive. Our next stop will be Yellowstone for a day hike and then Idaho for more kayaking.

                Our only plans when arriving in Jackson were to go backpacking in the Tetons before moving on. Plans changed when we walked into Rendezvous paddle shop and discovered a close knit paddling community that were quick to show us down some of the best local runs. They introduced us to the local community of young dirtbags who work during the day and live out of their cars by night. We fit right in. Big shout out to Porter, Matt, and everyone else in the Rendezvous crew for the hospitality.

                The Grand Tetons are always a presence around Jackson. We spent a few nights sleeping under the stars on a ridge overlooking the Tetons before exploring them by foot. We went backpacking in Garnet Canyon and stayed at a camp spot called the caves. We were lucky enough to get the whole campsite to ourselves. The second day we climbed to the lower saddle, the highest part of the Tetons that we could reach without rope. What I thought would be a casual day hike turned into a minor mountaineering expedition. We found walking sticks that we used as ice picks to cross large snow passes. Getting to the top required following a loose trail, climbing through vast alpine boulder fields, and making some sketchy snow passes. Towards the top everyone else at the base camp was decked out in gear. We looked out of place with our hiking boots and sticks. Getting down proved to be the real adventure as I decided to slide hundreds of feet down a very steep slope covered in snow. We missed our target path and found ourselves in a survival situation as we had slid down to a sketchy rock island over a massive cliff. The way back required blazing a trail through steep snow and ice patches where a slip could result in a 300 foot plunge. We remained calm and did what we needed to do. Without any protective gear and only a stick to balance myself, I kicked foot holds in the snow and crossed step by step towards safety. Falling was not an option, but certainly a possibility. Once Sam and I had reached safety we reflected upon our encounter with serious danger. The mountain had gained my respect. I won’t underestimate the dangers of the alpine again.

                I’ve had a lot of time to think during the past week. The nature of my experience has taught me things that people from home may have a hard time to relate to. The wild nature of my lifestyle is showing me parts of me I never knew existed. Men are part wild animal and part intellectual. Our intellect separates us from the animals that we think ourselves to be far superior, but a man is still an animal. We have built a society to tame ourselves. I want to experience this wild inside of me. I feel alive as I dance with the danger of the river in my kayak. I feel the fire pushing me to survive as a slip and scramble up a snowy cliff overhanging certain death. I feel the simple pleasure of falling asleep under the stars as the breeze lightly flows through my hair. These raw experiences make me feel human, it makes me understand what I am. I can’t describe these simple truths that I am discovering any more than one can describe the feeling of being in love. It is something you have to experience for yourself and it doesn’t come easy. I can’t find real meaning in distractions we have created to entertain us in society. I think it is ironic that people call our working adult society “the real world”. The world I am experiencing is more real than anything else I have ever been a part of. 

One day soon I will rejoin the workforce as a contributing member of society. Not yet though, I have much more to learn. When I do come back it will be with purpose and it will be under my own terms.

Most Pictures Taken by Sam Lupo. Insta: @fruitlupsfordinner

Wyoming

Colorado

We have been on the road a little over a week now. It seems so long since we have left Maryland. We’ve been travelling around Colorado paddling and camping everywhere we stop. We’ve been meeting friendly people everywhere we go while camping around Boulder, Buena Vista, and Denver. The whitewater community is great out here and we’ve been lucky enough to find good crews with which we’ve paddled the Bailey, Clear Creek, and Numbers. We also took a day to climb Mt. Elbert, the tallest mountain in the Rockies. Today we leave from Colorado to Wyoming with intention to backpack our Nation’s finest natural landscapes.

Plans are made only a day in advance as we travel. We know where we want to go, but never know what we’ll discover when we get there. I feel alive on the road. This feeling of freedom is unparalleled to anything I’ve experienced before. As the first phase of the trip is over I have the sense that I am entering into a world much larger than myself.

This trip isn’t only about me. By truly living and sharing the excitement that comes with adventure with those around me I feel as if I’m beginning to contribute to a greater human experience. I’m no longer a voyeur to my own life trapped in my routine. I’m living life right now.