In Search of the Good Life...: The Ditch (Grand Canyon Rafting Trip) Part 10

4/5 Lower Blacktail (120.7) to Below Tapeats (134.5)

Moving downriver toward Lower Tapeats camp
Photo credit: Cory Inman

I'll get into the daily play-by-play shortly, but before that, I have a few random mental tidbits that need a home, and this post seems as good as any. And I apologize in advance that there is some colorful language in this post because I can't talk about the f*cking staples box without referring to it as the f*cking staples box. Sorry for disappointing you, parents. You raised me better.

Feel free to skip the first section if you just want to hear about how awesome Joe is or what we actually did on the river this day.

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1) I thought it was worth putting in the blog a response to a question that I get pretty regularly.

"Kellie, how was the trip?"
I respond with some version of: "Amazing. Best outdoor experience of my life. Possibly best experience of all time. I came back a changed person."
"What do you mean by that?"

I thank the sun every day.

This probably started on day 1 or 2 of the trip. It was cooooolllllld on the river (and in the water...) when we were in the shade. Any time the sun would pop out from behind a cloud, or we'd turn a bend in the river and enter sunlight--immediate warmth and relief. And we'd thank the sun. I think this is just an example of one way I feel more gratitude in my daily life and try and express it outwardly. It's a ritual that reminds me to experience joy and appreciation in little things.

"Thank you, sun!"

Photo credit: Cory Inman

My priorities shifted.

I care about my friends and family and being outside. I mean, you'd think those things would have been true before the trip--and they were--but not at this level. I definitely trimmed the fat of "things I spend time worrying about" and it feels really nice to pour the extra energy into my relationships. I hug people more (FSU folks are probably shitting a brick right now reading that) and they are big hugs. I tell my friends I love them. I **hope** I can continue to be a better listener (My friend Ty once gave me the advice to "be interested, not interesting" and it's always resonated with me even if I didn't act on it especially well.). I want to show up for people the way they show up for me.
I really like finding joy in things. And sharing joy (now the UGA folks are probably shitting a brick because I was not exactly Ted Lasso during my professional tenure there). And trying to feel really present--using all of my senses to "feel" experiences, rather than just go through the motions. I will say that since being back, I'm not nailing the "being present" goal. Something I need to work on.
This sounds really great, and it is. Total net positive. But my performance in school has taken a colossal nose dive and I am genuinely worried about shifting my priorities a little too much at the expense of eventually having to go back to work and do a job. And I want to do my job well. I really like my job! It's one thing to shift priorities. It's another thing to completely lose focus and become undisciplined. I'm working on finding the right mix.

I am deeply intrigued by the way that people eat Pringles.

This has now become a topic of conversation / experiment in nearly all of my social spaces, both on the river and off the river. And I am PASSIONATE about it. Let's start with the basics:

There is a "more flavorful side" and a "less flavorful side" of a Pringle. Why folks would put the LFS toward their tongue is beyond me.
I don't want to say that biting a Pringle in half is a serial killer move, but like...convince me that it's not.
I don't want to be a hypocrite. I lived my whole life thinking that I ate Pringles the "right" way, which is obviously:

horizontal
MFS in first
chip in the mouth all at once
one chip at a time

I've since learned that this is, in fact, not a standard approach to eating a Pringle. I'm doing my best to open my mind to other possibilities as others have been accepting of me, but it's a steep hill to climb.

Off river shot of Pringles--henceforth our house will always be prepared to test people

Okay, so that's the short-ish version of how I've changed. And I am really happy about those changes.

2) The Staples Box

I think I briefly mentioned camp systems in an earlier post, or at least explained that our four rafts each had a job based on how they were organized and packed. Great system set up by Canyon REO. Truly. Super dialed and easy to follow--would replicate it again on future river trips. As a reminder: kitchen, produce, groover, majority of camp boxes. And within each of these large systems are smaller systems. I really should spend an entire post breaking down the kitchen system, but for the sake of time I will just focus on one element of the kitchen system: the f*cking staples box.

Overhead shot of the kitchen boat

Photo credit: Chris Inman

The kitchen system has a bunch of boxes. There's the camp box containing dinner/breakfast/lunch dry goods. There's the commissary box that contains pots, pans, cutting boards, dutch ovens, etc. There's a utensils box that contains larger items like ladles, spatulas, tongs, etc. (but not actual utensils like forks and knives--or maybe those were SUPPOSED to be in the utensils box and we messed it up on like...day 1 of the trip. That's probably what happened.). We had a spice box. It contained spices.

Editor's note: While writing this post, I found the actual packing list of what was in the utensils box:

Okay, I was right! No actual forks/spoons/knives. This was, on occasion, a little confusing for our crew.

And then there's the f*cking staples box.

Now, when you hear the term "staples" in the context of a kitchen (not an office supply store), you'd assume it would have some combination of the following:

salt, pepper, sugar, oil, general condiments (ketchup, mustard), maaaaybe vinegar, baking powder/soda, corn starch, honey, and maybe a few other GENERAL STAPLES that I'm forgetting.

Our staples box had all that, to be sure. And then it also had things like...capers. Cans of black olives. I can't even remember all the weird shit that was in there because I've blacked it out from my memory.

Editor's note: As with the utensils box, I was able to track down the actual list of what was contained in the staples box. And this is where I get to feel especially sheepish, because the staples box, at one point, actually did only contain staples. This, erm...mishap...is on our crew. Within the first 30 seconds of the trip, somehow our staples box started containing...other items...and it just kept growing and growing until the staples box was this super heavy box of NON-STAPLES and it was a disaster to open every time.

Nowhere on that list is "capers" or "black olives." I stand corrected and deeply shamed. I'm sorry for all of the hurtful things I said about you on the trip, Staples Box.

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Now back to the trip! Well, almost.

Time for another crew spotlight! Joe!

Photo credit: Chris Inman

I had the opportunity to ride down with Joe from SLC to Lee's Ferry. We didn't know each other prior to the ride down, which could have been a recipe for 7+ hours of awkwardness, but Joe is such an approachable and caring individual that 1) it felt like no time at all, and 2) I came out of the car ride feeling like I had at least one more friend to start the trip. There's a lot about Joe that is impressive--he's a badass rafter/climber/skier/general recreationalist, but there are few qualities in particular that I want to highlight:

I like to think I have the best dad in the world, but if my dad wasn't my dad, I'd want a dad like Joe. Joe's style of parenting was so special to witness on this trip. It is obvious from the minute you meet Joe how important his family is to him. Joe is not a helicopter parent. He wants his kids to make decisions, to take reasonable risks, to build independence. But he is there to support his kids with love and encouragement every step of the way. And we got to experience this directly in watching Joe interact with Rio on the trip. Joe makes it a point to let the folks in his life know they are loved. And with Joe, you feel it.
You don't become a badass rafter/climber/skier/general recreationalist without practice and preparation. If Joe wasn't making one of us laugh with one of his stories from a forgotten era, he was studying the river map. Mentally planning out his approach to a rapid. Like, when this guy is focused, he is FOCUSED. It's something I want to model in my future approaches to physical challenges.
Joe is an absolute hoot. This guy has seen and done a lot in his life, and he has a "character building story" for many of these experiences that had the whole crew cracking up. What an absolute legend. Thanks, Joe, for being a part of this experience. Can't wait to see that framed picture of you at the waterfall in your bathroom when you have us all over for dinner :)

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Okay, to the river!

Actually, sorry y'all. Not a whole lot to report on today. We had a few read and run rapids, and rowed Bedrock (7), Deubendorff (7), and Tapeats (5). I don't remember anything especially profound about any of these rapids. No swimmers, no flips, almost certainly some fun. We made camp at Lower Tapeats. It was a pretty rocky camp and I remember it being comically windy while we were setting up our tents. Dinner: Creamy Quinoa Primavera with Chicken <-- I remember this being super tasty!

Oh snap! I just realized we are about to have A LAYOVER DAY and the next post is about Thunder River! Stay tuned! It gets good!