Three years ago, John and I took our son Forrest white-water rafting on the Thompson River to celebrate his successful PhD defence. (This was just before he and Manon became involved with each other; otherwise, we’d have invited her to join us too. And it was a year or two after his defence but we couldn’t find a mutually convenient time to do this any earlier.) I admit I was a little nervous about the prospect of paddling down that wild river. I wondered if I was too old, too timid. But in fact it was a thrilling experience, made all the more wonderful by the care and expertise of the company who conducts these raft expeditions. We had a fabulous guide who told stories (during the quiet periods when we weren’t actually swirling through the rapids), kept us safe, and made the whole experience perfect.
We’re heading back to Kumsheen on Friday to take Brendan and Cristen out on the river — same reasons, same delay… We’ll stay in Lytton for two nights and I’m really excited. Yesterday John found the disk Kumsheen mailed to us with photographs of our adventure. For obvious reasons we couldn’t take photographs ourselves! So here we are — paddling madly through the rapids which all have names like Witch’s Cauldron or Jaws of Death or Devil’s Kitchen. I have no idea which one this was. (Forrest is in the front, then me, and John is recognizable because of his sunglasses and great paddle technique!)