IT’LL MAKE A GREAT STORY. PHOTO: BEN DUCHESNEY
EMBRACE THE SUCK
I was born, raised and have spent nearly my whole life at sea level. So when I crawled the into the back of my pickup truck, where four sleeping bags were stacked inside and on top of each other and where my fiancée sat waiting for me to close the tailgate with her teeth chattering, ready to sleep at 6,000 feet in elevation, on a frigid 16-degree night in the high desert of New Mexico, I was out of my element. I crawled under layers of down insulation, still wearing my puffy jacket, a beanie and fingerless gloves, with no thought of taking them off. Watching vapor pour from my mouth as I asked Jennie if she was ok, I’d have fallen down laughing had I not already been lying down. “This is fun.” This is what we live for. Forget your cushy, five-star lodges, screw the
continental breakfast and embrace the suck. Of the many paddling and fishing trips I hear about on a daily basis, the only ones that really stand out, the only ones that make me want to sign up for the next one, are the ones that make you pay for your fun with suffering. Why? Because the story is better. I’m not saying I need every trip to be downright miserable. I enjoy a bluebird, warm summer day of paddling as much as the next guy. I just don’t want every one of my trips to go as smoothly. Even last year’s canoe trip was just okay until the day of the first portage over muddy, icy trails, with waist-sized boulders and heavy packs. The trip got even better when, immediately after the portage boats started flipping. Then the trip was ce-
8 PADDLING MAGAZINE
A DECENT TRIP CAN TURN UNFORGETTABLE WITH JUST THE RIGHT DASH OF SUFFERING
mented in my memory and would later spur my next trip’s plans when the weather turned sour, we got lost and rapids surprised us around the corner. The unexpected and the unknown are the most beautiful part of a pad-
dling trip. Instead of planning every little detail and minute like a “perfect” Disney vacation, paddling trips only allow you to set up a basic frame work for how you’d like the trip to pan out, but then force you to let go. Once you let go of your fears of what can never be in your control, you’re forced to let go of your worries from your daily life that you wanted to get rid of when you booked the trip. The worse the suffering gets, the more the trip makes you pay for every mile of river, every extra pound of gear and every inch of hellish portage, the bigger the reward. When Jennie and I finished our 8,000-mile road trip across the country and back, the first thing we talked about wasn’t how sunny California was, it was how freaking cold New Mexico was, and how beautiful it was waking up to a high desert sunrise. The sooner you realize discomfort is your one-way ticket to paddling enlightenment, the sooner you can plan your next trip and fool your friends into thinking it’ll be fun. Speaking of which, what are your plans this sum- mer? There’s a vacation from hell a few paddle strokes away that’s calling your name.
Ben Duchesney is the web editor of
Kayakanglermag.com
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