I have a habit of not finishing what I start. It's mostly little things like sandwiches, sentences, thoughts and laundry, but it's a rotten habit nonetheless. It's been over a month since Steve and I braved the West, but I'm determined to complete the tale. Here are parts 1, 2, and 3.
After some much needed recuperation at the hotel in Moab, we made our way back to Colorado for some white water rafting on the Arkansas River. Aside from a little canoeing on Biology trip in 10th grade, I haven't spent much time on this small of watercraft. Steve booked the highest level difficulty possible, but I wasn't too concerned knowing we'd be with a group and have an experienced guide. The safety precautions they laid out for us before hand had me on high alert. I really didn't want to fall out of the raft at any point.
About 1/2 way through, I switched spots and paddled. Thankfully, we were through the greater rapids when it began pouring rain. The rain was so cold and hit so hard, I thought for sure it was hail. Everyone kept their spirits up and I considered it just another element of the adventure. Back on land, dry clothes had never felt so good.