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Show 233 We had officially been paddling upstream for a couple of hours now. With no real hope of the weather calming, my "teacher," Kristy, instructed me to paddle to the side so we could grab hold of a branch and sit out the wind for a bit. I gazed in front and behind me to see a neat row of canoes all lined hugging the daggered wall. The faces of my family shown through the small cut-out holes of their brightly colored ponchos. Everyone looked oddly empowered, I thought; especially my mom. Considering most of us had never even been in a canoe before, let alone canoed in a monsoon, I was quite shocked to see smiles and hear laughter through the whistling of the wind and the slapping of the rain. No one seemed miserable. In fact, everyone was happy. Finally, about 40 minutes later, the wind let up somewhat and we were able to continue paddling in the rain. We reached our camping destination not long after and began setting up camp and cooking dinner. It was still raining. Everyone was pitching in to help. In the dusk of the night I focused in on the voices that surrounded me. Still everyone was chipper and excited. No one was complaining or whining; it was an utter phenomenon. There were four children under the age of 16 on a not so "ideal" trip, I considered, yet everyone was amazingly upbeat. My dad's bald head caught the light from the setting sun and I walked over to help him. He was chatting away with the SPLORE employees, discussing the day's travel and the following days |