Dear Boundless Families:
When an astronaut first returns to our atmosphere, the heat from the friction of re-entry is so intense that there is a 7 minute window when all communication with earth is impossible. Anxious support crews and families have to endure acute pangs of uncertainty until the radio silence is finally breached.
Well, that would be me right now. You can hear a pin drop on these 600 acres. Your kids are gone, gone gonzo, like a Jose Bautista home run launched deep in the Dumoine wilderness. And I have this whole place to myself, manning an emergency phone that doesn’t ring (knock on wood) – a 21st century Maytag repair man. And I count my blessings.
So, in the absence of juicy gossip on both groups, I will try and piece together a picture for you.
They both experienced the epic first morning of descent – the elders today, and the young-ins yesterday. 15 sets of rapids competing for attention in a 4 km clip that the kids will certainly remember for the rest of their lives.
A waterfall, and portage, a rapid ominously dubbed “Canoe Eater”. And just as the fierce teens take a moment to revel in having conquered one obstacle, another hits them in the face. The river doesn’t let up. There is no time to be afraid – only respond. Kids forget themselves in these moments. You get your money’s worth for this morning alone.
And they end the day camping just below Little Steel Rapids. The adrenaline settles. They are famished. Still work to do, they get firewood, erect tents, prep the kitchen. These chores compete with the yearning to put on dry clothes, but priorities are priorities.
They feast, communing in a circle the way their distant ancestors did before digital distractions. They know each other’s idiosyncrasies all too well by now. They are patient with each other’s madness and bravado. Some feel like Gods. Others have to let off steam because they have summoned all their inner resources to keep their shit together, performing for an indifferent river; while honouring the high standards of their peers. The kids hold each other to account in ways you couldn’t possibly do as parents.
The sunset is exquisite. They share stories and the revelry over the day’s accomplishments. They will the smoke of the fire away from their faces, but just as often dowse themselves with its pungency to ward off the incessant bugs. The sound of rapids lull them to sleep.
Assuredly some kids have found it challenging to manage this brave new world. Perhaps a hissy-fit here or there, or some self-doubt, or fear about what’s ahead. But being able to carry on in spite of this is what this journey is really about.
I join the elders on Saturday for a day and night. I will have lots of yummy tidbits to share when I return for the final update.
Enjoy your weekends!
Steven
