With Gore Canyon looming in the distance, it feels like there is a cannonball inside my stomach. My crew and I paddle our raft down three miles of the muddy Colorado River. The serpentine, brown water is as still as a calm lake. What lies in the canyon ahead, though, is one of the most formidable sections of whitewater in the world — a challenge for even the most experienced paddlers.
We round a bend, enclosed by the sheer cliff walls. Downstream is the only way out. The river narrows and begins its descent.
Ahead of us, in the center of the river, a boulder the size of a living room sits perched on a ledge. Water explodes off the rock, creating an aquatic mushroom cloud and a roar like a jet engine. I try to determine the best route around it as our raft picks up speed, hurtling toward the ledge. It’s like we’re on a conveyor belt with no emergency stop.
A narrow chute on the far right of the river is where we need to be, so I point the boat toward it and shout instructions for my crew to paddle forward.
It only takes a few seconds to reach the edge, and though I can’t see it, I’m confident there’s a calm pool below. I square up the raft and yell another encouraging paddle command so we can exit the ledge with maximum speed, avoiding the dreaded nosedive that often precedes a flipped raft.
With a final, well-timed paddle stroke, our raft cleanly launches off the 9-foot drop. We splash down into the pool and for the moment, we are relatively safe.
The sudden shift from tranquility to turbulence is one of my favorite attributes of mountain rivers, but that’s not why I am a river guide.
I began guiding in Colorado for three reasons: I needed a summer job during college, I wanted to do something adventurous and I’ve always been infatuated with the mountains.
Ever since I was a young boy, I’ve enjoyed poring over maps. I can get lost in them for hours, often looking for their most dangerous, unreachable places. That fascination led me to the mountains, which were foreign to a kid from Lafayette.
Visiting them became a summertime pilgrimage. To afford it, I take people rafting and rock climbing. The cliffs and rivers still provide the adrenalin rush I thirsted for when I was younger, and they have taught me that adventure is more than just a physical trial. It’s about gaining insight and knowledge from unexpected sources.
So it’s not surprising that college is also providing me with adventure. I see this university as a community of adventurers with differing passions, perspectives and experience, all seeking to gain something new.
I was drawn to studying journalism because I wanted to seek out experts, artists and pioneers. It’s a quick immersion and I’ve become captivated by their interests, from fuel-efficient cars to the Founding Fathers.
I’ve had plenty of adventures while rafting and climbing, and at UL Lafayette. Seeking a degree has been a quest, punctuated by moments of exhausting rigor and extreme elation. It’s also an intellectual adventure and one that has made me a finer person than I was when I began college.