On a Yampa trip in 2012, fresh off the amputation of my lower left leg, I was able to take an actual step from the bank of the river onto the tube of my raft without having to sit down and swing my legs over. This simple act was actually profoundly impactful as it represented the beginning of getting back to what I used to be able to do.
This step, something a boater does countless times on a trip, was one of many essential abilities that I felt I needed to perform to be able to resume guiding as an amputee. Guiding was something I wanted to do more than anything. At 32 years old, I had finally found something I was passionate about and could also make a living doing.
This Yampa trip was the first commercial trip I did with my prosthetic and I was eager and motivated to see if I could still do it, still cut it as a guide. So when I executed that first true step, from a sandy shore, to the smooth and slick surface of a raft tube, I began to chip away at getting back the life and lifestyle that had abruptly been shaken up. Those early trips, done with a temporary prosthetic that I can’t imagine having to use now, were frustrating, challenging and left me in tears many times. But they were also the best thing I could have done for myself because the river and the canyons give us a perspective on time and place that puts us in our place.
Why Rivers Matter: Stories from the People Who’ve Dedicated Their Lives to Them