Week 13 - Part I - "Lessons of Society"

“Don't gain the world & lose your soul, wisdom is better than silver or gold.”
         ~Bob Marley~

   Week 13 helped to remind me of why I was doing what I was doing.........to simplify my life and find peace within myself.  I took a solo trip to the Eastern Shore of Maryland to hang with some good people, escape the craziness of RVA for a short time, and try to find some inner peace and quietness.  I found it in the form of flat water kayaking and swims in a private heated pool...........yes, believe it or not, I found true inspiration and inner peace by paddling the Chesapeake Bay.  No rapids, no noise, no whitewater, or rocks, or boofs, or danger, or risk. Just calm strokes across open water with a quiet wind and beautiful sunset.  I truly found peace in escaping to the bay.

   I also saw some of the biggest houses I have ever seen.  I think the people on the Eastern Shore are doing all right for themselves.  I crashed with a couple who were wonderful and real people (thanks Ruthie and Andy!), and who had done pretty well for themselves. Hanging in a 2 million dollar home for a weekend after living on an island for 100 days is quite the change, and it gives a good perspective to a lot about this crazy society we live in.
   First, we all live pretty much the same.  Some do it in a box, some in a tent.  Others do it in a five thousand square foot mansion on a bay.  Some do it in a Yurt.  Some do it in a house boat.  The point is, we are all just living and trying to survive as comfortable as possible.  I just happen to be the kind of person who doesn't need much to be comfortable.  This isn't something that just happened after I lost my family.  My old friends used to rag on me for always looking homeless. (mainly because I love wearing sweatpants. Seriously people, sweat pants are awesome!) They did this during my marriage, when I had a house, wife, kids, and a career.  So I figure it didn't surprise anyone when I actually decided to become homeless.  I just don't see the point in having a home if there isn't a wife or kids to share it with.  I don't see the point of having much of anything if I don't have anyone to share it with.  My favorite book is "Into the Wild".  Christopher McCandless understood so many things that most people would never even acknowledge in their own lives. But still, after all those experiences, the last lesson he learned before dying was tragic.  His final thoughts were, "Happiness isn't real unless shared."  My message here is important, and it is directed at every young husband and father out there that struggles with understanding their place in this world.  I know it is tough fellas. I know you feel owned and operated and that your true spirit as a man has been stripped away and the spirit of adventure that exists inside us all is gone forever.  But remember this very important lesson..........the grass is always greener on the other side.  Complete happiness doesn't exist when you are alone.  It just doesn't.  That is the one fact I am sure I have learned through this experience.
   Second, comfort is all relative.  Human beings have an uncanny ability to adapt to their surroundings.  I am reading the "The Longest Walk" by Slavomir Rawicz.  It is about a group of polish war prisoners who escape from a camp in Northern Siberia during World War II..  Over the course of a year and a half they travel through Northern Siberia during the dead of winter, cross the Mongolian Desert, climb over the Himalayas, and drop into the freedom of India. Read this book and you will never complain about anything in your life again.  These people went through hell beyond anything we could ever possibly imagine.  They could have given up, but they didn't.  They adapted to the situation, and found the will to survive.  The point is, they adapted to hell and dealt with it.  If they can adapt to what they had to endure, then I can't complain about a little rain, humidity, and temps in the 90's........and the rest of us certainly shouldn't be complaining about the discomforts I hear people complain about. Remember, we have the choice to live however we choose, and I for one would prefer to do it my own way. If that means enduring some discomfort and couch surfing on nights that the heat is too bad, or the storms are raging, then I have no problem with that.  It is what it is.........plus, I have really great friends.  We live in a country where even the homeless have more than most in other countries.  We have no reason to complain about anything.
   Third, the amount of money a person has, or doesn't have, shouldn't dictate the level of respect they receive from society, and in this country, in this day and age, it does.  I can prove this. In my last post I wrote about a homeless man named Lindy.  Many days after work I walk from the Marina to the coffee shop along the Canal Walk.  When I do I make sure to say hello to anyone passing by and look them in the eyes.  They always say hello back to me.  On some of those days, I meet Lindy and walk with him to the coffee shop.  When I do, I find that people pass by us and look away or look down.  That is the reality of Lindy's world, and it's fucked up.  We as a society should be ashamed of ourselves.  I for one will NEVER pass by a homeless man again without saying hello and asking him if he is ok.  I am not criticizing anyone here.  Before this experience, I probably would have been guilty of the exact same thing.  That is why I feel grateful for what I am going through.  It is teaching me lessons I need to learn.  It is teaching me how to be a better person, and it is teaching me that money is pure evil.  Yes, it is necessary, but so is war.  That doesn't mean we have to like it.
 
“We all look back at some time or other and wonder why we didn't listen to our instincts. Why did we hesitate? Why did we lose our dreams?”
~Diane Griffith, Chasing Dreams in Lefkas~

   My instincts never told me that settling down, buying a house, sitting in a cubicle, and doing the same thing again and again and again, day after day, was want I was meant to do.  I have stated in previous posts that I am making this up as I go along.  I have a plan, I have a job, and I have the basic foundation needed for life. But not knowing what is going to happen next is inspiring.  I have considered hitting the road, and it may happen at some point.  But for now, The Island and this life is where my instincts have led me, and I found a small dream that I will now make a simple reality.  

   Listen to your own instincts, your own heart, and go find your dreams.  See ya on the rivah!  PEACE 

                         

Seriously??......Fourteenth Street truly DOES lack a soul!

   Here's a quick story..........................Yesterday a man went down to the Fourteenth Street Takeout and asked a kayaker with a VCU sticker on his car if he knew Justin Harris or had seen him around.  The kayakers response was "That guy is kind of a dick."  The man responded, "yea, I've heard that before", and then walked away.
   Now, here is the interesting part.  The man who was looking for me is a homeless man named Lindy who is a friend of mine.  Every week I give Lindy some cans of food out of the back of my car, and when he was sick I helped him find a doctor that would see him for free.  (Thank you to the person who hooked me up with that connection.  You know who you are and I know you are reading this.)  Lindy was looking for me yesterday because he was hungry and was hoping I had some cans of food for him, which I did.
   Here is my point.  Whomever it was that responded to Lindy when he was looking for me, thank you. Thank you for demonstrating the true character of what Fourteenth Street has come to represent.  You looked a homeless man in the eyes and called the one kayaker who has taken the time to try to help him a dick.  When Lindy told me this story today over coffee I asked him how often he went to Fourteenth Street. He said that he has been using the Porta Potty there for over a year.  Then I asked him how many times a kayaker had seen him and offered to help him or give him food.  He responded "you are the only kayaker who has ever helped me".
   When Lindy saw a doctor, the prognosis was not good.  Lindy is dying, and he will do it in the streets. That is his reality.  He has been homeless for 27 years and is a self proclaimed "professional bum".  I interviewed Lindy over coffee a few months ago and his story is fascinating.  I decided to invite him to whitewater raft to The Island with me on July 3rd so he could see the fireworks from what is the best spot in RVA.  Lindy rocked the river and had a perfect view of the fireworks.  (Thanks Venture.  They were bad ass!)  I pitched him the spare tent and he spent the night.  When I woke up at sunrise, Lindy was asleep on his sleeping pad, laying just outside the door of his tent, under the trees............my thoughts when I saw this....."he truly is a pro bum."
   Lindy and I paddled out the next morning and when he arrived at Fourteenth Street his smile was a mile wide.  After packing up the raft I asked him how he liked the trip and the island.  He told me that he loved it all.....the whitewater, the island, and being able to hang out with someone that was patient and didn't judge him for being homeless.  I told him anytime he wanted to go back, he was always welcome.

   Yea, you guys are right............I am a dick.  See ya on the rivah!    
     
   

Week 12 "The Rains just keep Coming"

"The best thing one can do when it's raining is to let it rain."
~Henry Wadsworth Longfellow~

   Week 12 came deep into June and the rains just kept falling.  I am a big believer in river karma, and I truly believe Mother Nature gave the gift just to keep my front yard running.  (It is also funny as hell that Colorado was having its worst water year in 20 years).  I kept the kayaking bug going strong and paddled all week, taking advantage of river levels that fluctuated between six and a half and nine feet.  I was paddling stronger than ever, working everyday at the marina and on a small renovation crew, and meeting new and interesting people on a daily basis.........all this because I realized the world was a big place with tons of people and interesting ideas, places, experiences, and ways to live.  So it was in Week 12 that I finally did what I had been trying to do for so long............to truly say "FUCK IT!"  I am a homeless man living on an island.  Everything I make my ex-wife takes, every time I try and advance my life independently, she tries to stop me.  Because of that, I truly am free to do whatever the hell I want, and that is exactly what I plan to do from now on.  So lets begin with the simple week.........

6/19/13~Journal Entry~Day 79

   "Yesterday was amazing.  I watched a large storm front move into RVA.  It happened very slowly and the sky truly exhibited every color imaginable during a twenty minute show of sun, lightening, clouds, and rain.  I sat on War Cry Rock watching the swirls of grey, green, and blue as they approached from the west.  Two storms moved toward the island, but then they each split different ways.  When they did, fingers of lightening crawled across the sky from one storm cloud to the other. The show went on for longer than I anticipated, and I soaked in some more Island Magic.  

   I love thunderstorms.  I always have.  When I was a kid I used to watch them approach from my driveway while I played basketball, and now as a grown man (although I am still a boy in spirit.......and maturity) I watch them approach as I kayak.  I love the weather because it is simple.  It does what it wants, and we have no ability to stop it from happening.  It reminds us how small we really are.

   Due to yesterdays rains the river bumped quick today and reached almost nine feet.  I worked throughout the day, and as always, walked to the coffee shop after work and happened to check river levels.  It was 3:30pm and a nine foot peak had just happened, which meant I had all evening to kayak my front yard at great flows.  I took complete advantage, running through the entire "Middle Lines Workout Program" that I unknowingly created.  It is simple...........

1.  Start at The Island

2.  Ferry from The Island to Pipeline and run Pipeline down to below third drop

3.  Attain back up the river right side of Pipeline (this can be done by only walking once at Third Drop)

(four).  Run the two drops at the top right of Pipeline.  Walk back up.

(five).  Run Rattlesnake.  Walk back up the river left side of Rattlesnake

6.  Run The Poop Shoot.  Walk back up.  (This walk up is difficult.  Just find the right eddies.)

7.  Run Conception, then run five boofs at the ledge drop.  (The walk back up is easy and takes thirty seconds)

8.  Walk to the top of Conception Island.  Run the top left boof of Deception then run Rumble in the Jungle.  Walk back up river left of Rumble in the Jungle.

9.  Run the lower drop of Deception, paddle to the island, then walk the trail back up.

10.  Run the top right boof of Deception, then the bottom drop of Deception again.  Paddle to The Island and walk the trail back up.  

11.  Run LuLu.  Paddle to the island and walk back up the trail.

12.  Run Triple Drop.  Walk back up the trail.  Run the Triple Drop boof five times and then go to camp and collapse.  

   The entire routine takes about an hour to an hour and a half and the combo of paddling and carrying is a hell of a good workout, especially with a Burn (the heaviest boat ever made).  It may be exhausting, but you end up running 10 different lines and have 19 boofs to make throughout the whole cycle.  In 112 days on the island I have completed some variation of the cycle 81 times.  I have only been able to accomplish this thanks to Mother Nature and the 73 days of runnable Middle Lines whitewater I have had while living in the James.  It has been amazing and I am so thankful for making the decision I have made."

   The remainder of the week was spent doing pretty much the same thing.  I worked everyday and then paddled every evening.  I paddled at dawn a few times as well, and ended up probably getting in about 100 different lines throughout the week.  

   On Saturday I planned to travel to the Eastern Shore with my friends Matt and Liz, but an un-for-seen Rental Truck problem kept us in RVA for the day.  We decided to take advantage and make a Rivah Day of it.  We had a blast rafting at great levels, just beating the 11 foot bump the river took overnight.  As always, the island was more than impressive to them and they loved the idea so much they swore to come back with their daughter, who is six.  I can only dream about the day Marlow and Quint can step onto the island, but believe me, one day it will happen.  That is a promise that will be kept..........Now stop reading about paddling and get out there and paddle!!!!   See ya on the rivah!  PEACE

"The mark of a successful man is one that has spent an entire day on the bank of a river without feeling guilty about it."

                                    ~Chinese Philosopher~

   

The Fourteenth Street Hate Club

"Everything we hear is an opinion, not a fact. Everything we see is a perspective, not the truth."
       ~Marcus Aurelius~

    For all of those who enjoyed "The Dumb Ass on the Log".......and there were many, I unfortunately only plan to write one more negative post on this site.  However, that post will wait until the end of August.  It will focus on three individuals.  The "Fat Ass Who Fights Like a School Girl", "The Teacher who Hates Cops but loves Blow", and finally, my favorite........."The Fourteenth Street Whore".  I plan to wait until then so that I can give "The Fourteenth Street Whore" a nice welcome back to RVa when she returns from Colorado, where she fled like a coward.  That post will tell the story of all three, and expose the truth to what really went down between all of us, because trust me, the truth has not been told yet.  Enjoy the summer guys, because the school year will start with a bang............oh, and that post will most likely get me sued (good luck with that), and will make the "Dumb Ass on the Log" look like a day at the beach.

"Three things cannot be long hidden: the sun, the moon, and the truth."
          ~Buddha~

   Additionally, I would like to make something very clear to the little Fourteenth Street crowd.  I am going to do whatever I want, say whatever I want, and write whatever I want, and there is not a fucking thing any of you will ever do about it.  I will come to Fourteenth Street whenever I feel like it, bring my friends, and stay as long as I wish.  I will continue to work where I work, associate with the Dept. of Public Utilities, and give a friendly hello to the cops who watch out for my safety while on the island.  And on that note, and listen to what is about to be said carefully.................the police do not patrol Fourteenth Street because of me.  They patrol there because your little crew are a bunch of stupid, arrogant fucks who think you are untouchable.  When you continually get drunk on city property, smoke weed on city property, and try to have a party on city property, all in front of city workers who already hate you for being a bunch of spoiled ass rich white kids..........YOU DRAW NEGATIVE ATTENTION TO YOURSELVES!!!!!!........just like when you end up on the 6 o'clock news sitting on a log in the middle of a flood swollen river.  My advice..........WAKE THE FUCK UP AND TAKE A LOOK IN THE MIRROR!  You have done this to yourselves, not me, not the city workers, and not anyone else.  When you do stupid shit, you end up suffering consequences for it.  My advice is simple.  Try doing the right thing.  Go kayaking, and then go the fuck home, go to the bar, or go somewhere other than there to get drunk and high, because trust me, the party at Fourteenth Street is OVER, and if you want to test that fact then go right ahead.  All you will do in the end is fuck yourselves over.  But I am sure you will attempt to blame that on others as well.  Have a great week everyone.  See ya on the rivah........hopefully sober.

Week 11 "Living and Loving the Island Life........and the Wet Summer"

"Like a welcome summer rain, humor may suddenly cleanse and cool the earth, the air and you."
~Langston Hughes~

   Week 11 proved to be the turning point as far as my attitude about the island, the future, and my situation.  It might be that I gave up, it might be that the meds kicked in, or it may have been a number of other things, but for some reason I found peace inside myself, and more importantly, peace on the island.  It was not an overly eventful week.  I woke up every morning, took a walk on the island, packed up, paddled out, and went to work.  After work I paddled home, ate a snack, then started my daily "Middle Lines Workout Program".  I was taking advantage of the fact that we had good water levels and the Middle Lines were STILL running everyday.
   On Tuesday and Wednesday I spent a solid 36 hours isolated on The Island working on small projects and paddling my ass off.  The Middle Lines were lower runnable, and the weather was cool and wet.  I spent about an hour on Tuesday watching the approach of a nasty looking thunderstorm that ended up looking worse than it was.  I stood on the top of War Cry Rock and watched the swirls of dark blue and grey clouds engulf the western sky, then slowly work down the river toward camp.  Lightening kept creeping across the sky like fingers, and twice there were rainbows appearing and disappearing within the storm.  Eventually the rains came and I retreated into my tent to read a book and wait for the sun to return.
   On Thursday an unexpected bubble of water passed through Rva and the river spiked to almost 9 feet.  I was lucky to get off work early and immediately paddled out to get an afternoon Middle Line set in before the sun went down.  It was a great evening on the river, spent choosing between my favorite creek lines and admiring the view of RVa and the sunset.  I paddled solo until dark, and then cooked a quick dinner and retired to my tent.

“There is nothing more beautiful than living a simple life in this complex universe!”
          ~Mehmet Murat ildan~

   I am finding that simplicity works well with the life I am choosing to lead right now.  When I try and complicate my position in the world I usually just frustrate myself and piss others off at the same time.  It is ironic that the turning point week was also the simplest week so far.  I made my life easier.  I woke up, paddled to work, worked hard all day, walked to the coffee shop, wrote, walked to the marina, and paddled to and around the island.  It was quite simple, and cheap!.......which is always good.  Maybe I am learning what works best for me, or maybe I am learning that a simple world is a better world.  Every day our society becomes faster, smarter, more connected, more driven, more in debt, more stressed, more, more, more.  What if the answer is less?  What if we all just need to slow down together, take a time out, and accept the world for what it is, instead of always trying to change and advance and conform.  I have, and something seems to be changing.  I am not sure what it is yet, but slowly, day by day, I am learning, and in the end it is that that could make all the difference ........we shall see.  See ya on the rivah!  PEACE

  

A Tribute to Greg

   The James River paddling community lost one of the best last week.  After a brief battle with cancer, Greg Hawkins passed away.  Greg built the VCU Outdoor Adventure Program, was a sponsored kayaker, and most importantly, was one of the most humble people I have ever met.  He was a talented paddler, friend, educator, and river lover.  I did not know Greg well, but it was always good to see him in passing at the takeout and to catch up with him.  Over the past week, I have read a lot of stories about peoples memories of Greg, and one thing is clear.........Greg was a great man, and his spirit will always live on in the James.  Most people told stories of their experiences being educated by Greg through the OAP program.  I was never involved with the program, so I knew Greg as a paddler and a friend.  When he passed away, I thought back about the experiences I shared with him, and two came to mind.  The funny thing is, in both situations Greg taught me something about kayaking without me even knowing it.  That is the sign of a great paddler.  Here are those experiences.
   The first time I really got to know Greg was in 2010 after returning from Asheville.  We were able to compete against each other at the second annual Dominion Riverrock.  This was the year of the epic ramp competition. Little did we know that it would be the height of kayaking at Riverrock, and it was an amazing once in RVa experience.  Where else can you boof 20 feet into a stadium like setting of 3000 people.  For those of you who missed it, here is a quick look back.  

   Greg was in the orange kayak doing back flips.  I loved the fact that Greg competed because he was the only one older than me, which made me feel better about my ability to survive the competition.  (Seriously, it was the hardest hit I have ever taken in a kayak.......and we all did it about 30 times.  Greg was a beast!)  However, it wasn't the ramp competition that I learned from Greg.  It was in the Boatercross competition.  

   Boatercross is a downriver slalom race that is head to head in heats of five.  Greg and I drew the same heat in Round 1, and I was excited to compete against one of the best.  When we left the starting gate I found myself in front, thinking I was a bad ass because I was out paddling a legend.  However, in all his humbleness, Greg was thinking instead of paddling, and schooled me well at the first gate.  As I made my turn, I realized that he was cutting inside of me and using me to bank off the turn.  He had set himself up to be behind on purpose, which was genius.  We came around the turn, Greg banked off of me perfectly, and I never saw him again.  He finished about fifteen seconds ahead of everyone and barely broke a sweat doing it.    

About to get schooled by the best

   What I learned from Greg that day is patience pays in kayaking.  When we bomb through something without thinking about it we lose all perspective, and life rushes past us.  When we slow down and think about the things we do, plan ahead, and humble ourselves, we see the big picture and reap the rewards.  Greg cruised to an easy victory on this day.  Meanwhile I took a beat down in the hole and was disqualified.  The best of the best won that round, and I have never been so proud to take a severe ass kicking from someone.

   The second memory I had of Greg came the next year on the Upper Yough.  I had stopped at Nationals with some friends to watch the carnage.  After a few minutes I saw Greg lace is way effortlessly through Nationals and turn on a dime into the eddy, throwing a perfect duffek stroke, not because he wanted to show off (like most who throw a duffek.......like RVa's little red headed leprechaun), but because it was the right stroke to throw at the time.

   Last week I read a comment by Jared Sieler about Greg that said he had the smoothest style around.  I noticed that style that day, and I agree.  Greg was a beautiful paddler to watch.  He made big rapids look effortless, and was always smooth as silk on the river.  I still remember thinking that day on the Yough that I hoped to one day paddle as smooth as Greg.  I have worked hard on my style, and will continue to throughout my paddling career.  I am proud to say that Greg has always been one of my inspirations.

   Greg will be missed by so many.  To all those who knew him well, I truly am sorry for your loss.  It sucks, and it wasn't fair.  I believe that we lose the best of us first, and Greg was the best, at kayaking, friendship, and life.  He did more in his short amount of time on this earth than most people do in two lifetimes.  I continue to enjoy reading the stories from people all over the country who had their lives touched by Greg, and it is amazing to read all that he did.  Thank you to all who have shared their stories.  

   The last time I spoke with Greg was about a month before he passed away.  When we spoke, the only thing he was concerned about was my happiness.  That was Greg.  He just wanted us all to be safe and happy.  He truly was a great leader and a great friend.  I didn't even know Greg well, but he still took the time to read my writing and check in with me, even after receiving his diagnosis.  I still can't believe he would go out of his way to check in when he was so close to the end and had so many people to say goodbye too.  Thank you Greg.  You have no idea how touched I was by that conversation.  The last thing Greg ever told me was how much he missed the James River and missed his home.  I promise you Greg, we will never forget, and you will forever be a part of the James, this community, and the heart of every paddler on the river.  Rest in Peace buddy.  You will be missed.  

 

Greg Hawkins, flying with the angels

  

“You were born a child of light’s wonderful secret— you return to the beauty you have always been.”
               ~Aberjhani, Visions of a Skylark Dressed in Black~

         

  

Week 8, 9 and 10 "Errol Conquers Conception: Part II" and "Hitting a Stride!"

"Courage is grace under pressure."

                      ~Hemingway~

May 20th ~ Journal Entry ~ Day Forty Nine

   "I awoke on Monday morning ready to tackle my day with a fierce approach.  I was on a mission; make sure Errol celebrated a good birthday on the island.  The guy has helped me out so much and is having knee surgery in 2 days, so the least I can do is take him to the island and give him a mini vacation of fishing, rafting, exploring, chilling, eating, drinking, and R & R.  We were up and moving by 7am, and Errol was on his own mission to get his daughter off to school and wife off to work so that we could 'maximize our time on the island for the entire day.'  We had all the gear loaded, the food packed, and groceries bought, and found ourselves at the marina before 9am......not bad.  We headed to Tredegar to allow Errol the chance to make it to the island on the easiest whitewater route possible.  Parking at Tredegar gives you the ability to make it to the Western Tip of The Island while only needing to run Fishladder's Rapid.  (for those of you not affiliated with the James, it is the rapid next to Brown's Island.)  This would give Errol a fighting chance at not swimming, given he was six foot four and weighed two hundred and fifty pounds, had minimal solo boating whitewater experience, and would be paddling the following watercraft................................

  

....................it was going to be an interesting day.  I was excited for a number of reasons, but none more than the opportunity to watch one of my closest and oldest friends eat complete shit in a controlled and safe environment.  Errol was only given one option in how he was going to learn......the school of hard knocks.  This meant that I had complete control over the judgement of what he could and could not do and he had to do whatever I said without questioning anything.  In other words, he was screwed.

   We loaded up the boat and I packed my kayak with gear for The Island and the short paddle out.  The level was around six feet and change, which was a good flow.  Errol styled Fishladders in the mini oar rig, then had no problem with the ferry to The Island.  We spent the day fishing, grilling bbq chicken, drinking, swimming, more fishing, more eating, and exploring the whitewater in both my kayak and the oar rig.  Here is some poorly shot video from the days events.  Seriously E, you are a terrible cameraman. 

...............by the way, the fishing is always like that.  It's because The Island is awesome!  The day was utilized well, but I saved the best for last.  I told Errol we would run Pipeline on the paddle out, which ate at his nerves most of the afternoon.  Frankly, I didn't think he stood a chance making it through Pipeline in a mini oar rig, and I think Errol probably thought the same thing.  I gave him an alternative:  Paddle Conception in the oar rig instead.  He took me up on this option, although he had never seen Conception.  My description was spot on in my mind....."it's an easy Class II entrance, then a little pour over, then some Class II run out."  I thought this was an accurate description.  
   Errol ran the Class II entrance with no problem and then eddied out to look at the pour over.  The main drop of Conception is actually about 5 or 6 feet with a punchy hole at the base, but if I had told him this he may have bailed.  I knew that once he ran the entrance he had no choice, so now all I needed to do was convince him he could do it.  He was trapped.  (I would never do this to anyone other than my closest friends).........At this point I was reminded of something I had forgotten.  Ten years of whitewater experience makes one view a whitewater rapid very differently from that of a normal person.  Essentially, what seems impossible to some, is actually an easy Class III or IV line to most paddlers.  This made me laugh, because I knew Errol was now way outside his comfort zone.   
   After a few moments of contemplation, and a failed attempt to convince me I should run the oar rig, Errol was ready to drop his first real rapid in his mini oar rig and I was stoked to watch him eat complete shit........and then save him.  I ran the drop first to show him the line and set up safety below.  The level was around 6 and a half feet, making Conception about perfect for any kind of boat.  He lined the drop up perfectly, focused on having his oars out of the way, and then dropped in.  As he came over the drop, I remember thinking, "wow.  Errol and the rig look pretty small coming over the lip."  His bow dropped over the lip, Errol threw all his weight forward, and then the entire rig submerged into the hole.  With one powerful stroke just at the base of the drop, Errol exploded out of the hole and cleaned the drop.  I was amazed, and I think he was too!
   He was so excited he had cleaned the drop that he forgot to line up the Class II run out.  He hit a rock, rolled around it, and lost one of his oars.  Celebration turned to panic as he looked at me and yelled "What do I do!!"  I just laughed because I knew he was safe and just needed to pull into an eddy, which he successfully did.  The lost oar ended up pinned to a rock, and after a quick rescue mission to retrieve it, the day was a success. 

   "The world breaks everyone, and afterward, some are strong at the broken places."
                   ~Hemingway~

   The next two weeks of life after Errol's birthday fell into a sense of normalcy.  I paddled to work, lived on the island, hung out with friends, and enjoyed a lot of campfires and quiet nights reading to the sounds of rapids.  I was starting to understand that the life I was leading fit me, and suited my personality.  The problem was, no one else was very understanding to the choices I had made.  My family and Marcelle's family continued to go out of their way to keep the boys from me, fail to update me with any news of how they were, and even censor pictures of the boys online so that I could not see them.  This is an entirely different story that will be told at a later date, but the fact is that outside of the normal and healthy routine I was living, my heart was completely empty without the boys.......and it still is.  That is the reason I have decided to skip writing about Weeks 9 and 10.  I unintentionally ran across certain pictures of my sons that broke my heart, and for the most part I spent Weeks 9 and 10 alone to contemplate my ability to forgive people.  My conclusion is that there are certain people in this world who do not deserve to be forgiven, and I plan to never allow them to forget the choices they have made.  Am I pissed off?.....your damn right I am. 

See ya' on the rivah!  PEACE