Looking Back II: Learning to Guide

I got a new hat for my trip on the river. Weeks later, at the Rocket Fuel party, someone was pointing someone else out to me. I simply asked: "What hat is he wearing?" "A good question," was the response. A new hat indeed...

I sat shotgun on the way from the office to the put in. I talked easily with my guide, John. He pointed out features and flora to the two couples in the back of the van. I pointed out things to him, and he noted that this was not my first rodeo. Of course, I love the Big Bend, and was excited to see it from a new perspective.

The river trip was awesome - thousand foot cliffs shoot up from the river. After call upon call of canyon wrens, we chanced upon a mated peregrine pair. The parade of birds continued, but I soon ran out of names. After paddling upstream half the day, we lunched and hiked a side canyon in Mexico, and then eased our way back down the Rio.

John began working on me to stay and help guide or shuttle during the spring break rush. I became convinced that this was a good idea, and - after all - why not? I'd been told before by a guide I'd met on my tour that Jan Forte was great to work for. On John's recommendation, she took me without any experience. I asked her to make me a trainee and to put me on the river as much as possible. She didn't let me down.

I started the next day, on an overnight trip down Santa Elena Canyon - covering the upper as yet unseen by me half of the canyon, and the several miles above that. I received instruction from Carmen, hard and fair and an excellent cook. "You're going to feel like you're going from rock to rock, always falling behind. We all go through that." True.

I was blown away by the experience immediately. So long had I been living in relative privation, expedition style gourmet canoe camping was quite a shock. Campfires and propane and dutch ovens and gallons and gallons of water. I'd graduated to camping in style.

I stopped writing and taking pictures. There was too much new to do. Reflection took a way back seat to action. I came back and really met my coworkers. I was clearly the least experienced and most out of place. Travelling alone so long, I'd forgotten how to be in groups my age. I required resocialization.

That'll only really go so far though, coming from where I'd been. Few have travelled alone as I, and few understand the complete rearrangement of my life facts while keeping my essential identity the same. I feel like I'd become who I am, not who I told myself I am. Guiding seemed a natural selection along these lines - teaching and learning and being outdoors and active all the time. Professional camping was easy, but managing interactions took some time.

Most guides percieve a gulf between themselves and tourists. Some even set themselves aside from the locals. I felt one in the same all of these. I feel at home in Terlingua. I can show and tell with the best of 'em. And yet I know myself a traveller, new to so much so much of the time.

Nonetheless, I found myself deeply attached to this new group of people. I treated them like family, maybe with more familiarity than some were comfortable, but certainly closer than coworkers or even new-found friends. This in part came from the openness and trust within the culture. It too came from finding a richer collection of varied experts than I'd ever encountered. Polymaths and panelementalists abound. Tool users and vehicle drivers at exceptional levels, these are also considerate communicators, artists, and seekers. Again, I felt at home.

The next three weeks I had a day or two off. I was on the river all the time. I ate little. I slept little. I socialized much. I balanced as best I could, training hard in my Uechi managing any inner conflict - sanchin with a canoe on my head. I opened my mind to new experiences and drank in the river. Jan put me on each of the three upper canyons, giving me quite a tour of the river. My fellow guides taught me patience, technique, and so on. It was easy, natural. Then I was worn out and business died down and I was on the river less and less.

I've found something that will allow me to continue this nomadic lifestyle with something that looks like purpose. I've got waters to learn, and places to be. I'll even get paid for the pleasure, which seems alright with me. I've made friendships that will last, with people who share my values, pursuing mine own interests. Where else can I find rock climbing mountain biking hanggliding whitewater guiding wisewomen listening to dub music? I'm hooked.